Bubbly, brave, funny, strong, understanding, joyful, happening, they’re all synonymous with her beautiful name, her story is one that not many are acquainted with, and so here I am, helping her spread her story to the rest of the world…
In fourth grade I was sexually abused by a senior girl. She used to touch and kiss me in the girls washroom. It was mortifying. I stopped using the school washrooms after that, I am still scared of going into the girls washroom, I fear touch.
According to wikipedia, “Sexual abuse, also referred to as molestation, is forcing undesired sexual behavior by one person upon another.”
No. It’s more than that, it’s more than just the story of one girl, it is about the thousands who’s sad reality it is while we laugh foolishly, it’s the shattering of another persons morals, it completely shuts a person down and leaves them in a trauma that is inexplicable. It’s easy to tell people to just get over it, to have been there isn’t. It leaves you scared forever, it makes you lose all faith in yourself, if your wishes cannot be respected in this society, then who are we anyway?
So what are victims supposed to do? Shut up and breathe the same air that is strangling them minute by minute or stand up to a society that won’t accept them if they reveal what they went through? Even today we’re living in a world where people have the audacity to make statements like “there is no place for women in the Indian culture” and that’s coming from a highly educated man. Are women the only ones being assaulted? Are The gods you beg for mercy not female? Would it be okay if a man molests your sister and says the same? Does that make it okay to not let them live peacefully? And don’t even get me started on rape victims and how supposedly “impure” they are. What bullshit.
One of my family friend, Sam* ,was the only person who knew about this, In sixth grade we really liked each other we started dating. He is the only guy I actually liked , he was all different and he knew how to handle me.
On 9th July 2013 was his birthday and that’s the last time we met, I had this surprise birthday party planned for him on 12th July but 11th night my dad got a call, saying Sam* died in an accident.
I have changed since then and I don’t like people getting all close anymore because In the end people leave and I don’t think I can take it again.
It’s nice isn’t it? Feeling accepted after a horrible past, finally feeling comfortable around someone? And what when that person is snatched away from you? The void that can never be filled no matter how much you try, the pain and the memories, the mere idea of imagining them as now a cold body with no soul or sense. It’s impossible imagining someone who was that close to you, just not wake up ever again.
Death has a strange way of leaving us hollow and alone, it will either haunt you forever and make you stronger, or it’ll drive you crazy.