The Anguish of a Scream

No words, just a scream. A roar. Enough to convey the anguish, the pain, the loss of a rape victim.

I was just another voice in a cacophony of screams, roaring anguish escaped from the bruises and the cuts that networked my body. Piercing shrieks went unheard and the aimless battle went unseen. Gnarled fingers and hands, yes-- they seemed human but feral as they pried open my body.

I knew I was being punished for some sort of sin. Leading me to question still�"what crime did I commit?

Was it my plum lips that instigated them?

Or the way my clothes encapsulated my body?

Or was it the curve of my breast that provoked them?

That provoked them to mutilate my dignity, invade my body and then leave me to bleed by the thorny bushes of hate and disgust.

But that wasn’t enough a punishment. They still bombard me with questions--

What was I doing that late into the night?

What was I wearing?

Was I drunk?

Did I ask for it? ---

As if I wanted for such a thing to happen. As if I wanted to sell myself to complete strangers. As if I wanted to carry the burden of an invisible scar. As if I wanted them to force me open.

I’m the criminal in their warped minds and those men, the victims of my treacherous crime�"The crime I committed when I came into the world carrying the burden that makes me a woman. The same burden that led me to my horrid fate, the same burden that guaranteed that night, that I wouldn’t reach home safe, the same burden which rough hands took advantage of.

It was okay for them to hold me under their dirty gazes and rape me with their minds.

It was okay for them to pin me under their bodies and rape me with their hands.

Everything was okay for them.

But�"

it wasn’t when I didn’t cross my legs.

It wasn’t when I wore dresses.

It wasn’t when I was out late.

It wasn’t when I fought back.

It wasn’t okay because I was a woman�"

A woman who is supposed to be nothing more than a naked invitation meant to be used over and over again by her husbands, uncles, cousins and complete strangers.   

 

 “Dirty” “impure” “used” “s**t” “w***e”

NO…. NO..... NO!

I’m none of that! I’m none of that!

Wherever I go they either look at me with lust or they look at me with disgust.

They say that they would never have let this happen to them, so why me? Why me? Why do they silence me over and over again?

They say that they don’t understand why I didn’t fight back harder.

Fight back when?

When three men held my limbs back and muffled my screams while the other one forced himself on me?

Or in the courts where I was made to stand alone against those men, during the two finger tests?

But still, I try- again and again to fight back, to step up for myself, to raise my voice. Only to be muffled by traditions, culture and stereotypes.

They give my example and teach their daughters the consequence of being a woman, and teach them to preserve themselves. But ironically, they don’t teach them how to fight back.

They give my example and teach their sons to steer clear of women like me. But ironically, they still preach that “boys will be boys”

How many more examples?

How many more victims?

How many more rapes?

Until they finally teach each of their daughters how to decorate their own graves.

Author's Note

What do you think?

Reviews

[Clarity]

Wow! You have expressed so well the struggles women can come under when a wrong is done against them and yet they end up being the culprit for trying to stand up against it. The experience you have described tells a lot more than what the words express. In the imagery you have painted there comes a value of dignity and respect tossed to the wind because of gender, a mindset that lives today still in many cultures where women are treated as second class citizens and in some cases even lower than certain animals. You have also given a picture of the hardship women face when they are defiled in such a brutal way only to be pointed at and accused as being an instigator or worse still 'asked for it'. Rape in any language physical, emotional, mental, spiritual is an atrocious act to be committed against anyone, and you have shown this well with the words you have painted here. Keep sharing your view and continue to give us, the readers, something to think about. Well done

[creepersjeepers]

This is fantastic. It was raw and captivating. Hooked me in right from the first line.

[Prynka]

I have no words to review this great piece. You have stirred the mind of every women and I hope that every men who read this should get the Anguish of a woman's scream. Every scar, every hurt every bruise the reader could feel. What powerful words. Welcome Antara, welcome to this world of Writer's cafe. I am sure I will follow you and your words. What a bang on entry.