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Written by Pragya Thapa, 17, Nepal
My mother used to tell me tales
of all sorts-
Of vampires and fairies,
Of demons and zombies,
Oh, and of monsters;
Monsters with two heads,
Monsters with no legs,
Monsters that burned down houses
And the ones that ate children.
All these tales of monsters
And yet, she never told me about this certain monster
One that lived under the same roof as us,
One that still roams freely among us.
I was barely seven
And you were seventeen
Hands tied
Mouth shut
Your filthy lips and roaming hands all over me,
reaching spots that were entirely new to me.
I couldn’t process anything
So, I held on and begged for it to be over
All I could do was hold on and beg for it to be over.
To think that I trusted you
To think that my parents trusted you
And it hurts me that they still do,
For I haven’t told them about all that you put me through
And I’m not sure why;
maybe it’s fear
maybe it’s shame
Or maybe I still deny,
deny the fact that you assaulted me,
by pushing away these terrible flashbacks
the same way I tried pushing you off me.
“Please stop”, I screamed
over and over again
but my screams were of no use
“Please stop”, I still scream,
but it’s not you this time;
it’s the memories
it’s the flashbacks
and once again,
my screams are of no use.
Oh how much I hate it here
You make me want to disappear
Can’t put into words how much I loathe you,
And everything you put me through.
I won’t let you get away with it
Or that’s what I say to myself;
To cope with the fact that
You’ve in fact,
gotten away with everything,
With no shame
Or an ounce of regret.
Every time I see you,
I notice it
the lust in your eyes
and your heinous smile
It’s the same lust
and the exact smile
that lingered in your face;
the entire time
you had me in your clutches.
With each passing day,
I hope you die
No, not an easy death
I pray a slow, painful death for you
Only then the pain you caused me will find its end too
Only then they’ll finally fade;
My memories of you.
