She sits, blankly staring at the ceiling above, oblivious to the pain and voices around.
They try everything to make her ….cry, scream, rant…any noise to show she is not beyond help. Days pass by, life goes on, and people by her door. She hears, sees, tastes, feels nothing....no longer cringes at the touch of steady, loving, caring hands that hold back a simmering anger as they feed her. Her father hears an agonised scream; first in months…the mocking picture in the paper …he has been set free…to hunt flesh again. No other victim, she decides, ready to fight him….
(Dedicated to the latest victims of rape in my small city, a 14 and a 4 year old, may they find the strength to fight back...)
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Glad you made it this far...would love to hear your take on the words scribbled. A comment every now and then keeps the blues away. :D
Since, crazy Mr. Blogspot won't let me reply to the comments here (is upset with the water ladies ever since they refused to verify visitors)...will do the next best thing, drop in to your blog to say my Vanakkam/Namaste/Salaam/Hello.