Nimal looked at her son sleeping peaceful. His feathery baby breaths felt comforting on her cheek, but the rest of her body felt like it was on fire shards of glass were coursing through her veins. She knew it will be a long long night again. Her PTSD symptoms were back the same insomnia, the anxiety gnawing at her; butterflies in her stomach. Lots of times she was playing happily with her son but soon she would have a blank look on her face and would no longer be present because being present in her body was painful, checking out was easier. She took a deep breadth and came out of her room, it was dark in the living room she sat down on her couch and started sobbing at that moment she felt another presence she looked up and saw her sitting on the chair next to the window. "Who are you?" " how did you get in here?"asked Nimal She looked up and said I come here often, I used to live here in 1883 before I died after jumping off the Golden Gate bridge, look how beautiful it looks from this window glistening in the moonlight.
"You mean you are dead?"" Yes, yes that I am she laughed a raspy dry laugh. Although I died a long time before I jumped off that bridge, some what like you I was an insomniac, anxiety ridden individual after that incident that but no one wanted to listen to my truth so i kept burying it until I could no longer keep it inside, it started to eat me until I was just a walking shell of a woman and than one day that did not seem enough so I committed suicide." "Will you be witness to my truth now Nimal? will you listen to what I have to say"." Yes, I will listen to you tell me your truth," said Nimal.
Well its a long story but I ll give you the shorter version, see sometimes you just need a friend some one who listens without judgment. Most of my life I had moved every few years I had to move and start over my parents marriage was not the best and with the financial situation always in a rut, life was a struggle and I guess the thing was I had no one who I could share my experiences with because no could really relate and with moving and trying to make new friends every few years, trying to fit in. I got good at it to I was a chameleon I could read people know what they wanted and I knew how to endear my self to people.
I was in my teens when dad passed away and what little stability we had was gone too, I moved to San Francisco and took up a job at a factory to help my family it was there that I met him. He was my first love the boy with the golden eyes I still remember him looking at me across the factory floor and I felt as if time stood still everything faded into the distance and for the first time in my life I felt I existed..... we became very good friends mainly because he listened and he was authentic, he was present and he gave me parts of himself just like I gave him parts of me. Parts I had never dared to show others he was the sun in those long gloomy days of back breaking work and loneliness but then he had to leave his family needed him back and he had to go.
It was around that time that the factory owner started showing interest in me, see I skipped a part I did not tell you the factory owner was a very good family friend and he had given me the job as a way to help. They say you don't kick a person when he is down but that is just what he did. He had always known all the family drama he knew how I felt about the boy in the factory I thought he was a kind man who wanted to help me little did I know there was a sick twisted man in that body.
I had always been the girl who was the friend, every one who needed to talk knew where to find me and have a shoulder to cry on but I was never the girl any one found attractive yes in high school and college I was the girl who had vicious rumor spread about her, that I put out easy and I had fucked a bunch of guys I knew nothing about which was all untrue of course but who cares to check gossip. Its all fun and games who gets hurt no one cared. Anyway I transgress, he started to dock my salaries and naive me thought I could make him see his wrong ways.
I talked to him asked him to help when that did not work, I become friendlier a little flirty too I guess. I don't know what was I suppose to do, I was all alone nursing a broken heart i had no friends and I felt trapped the only thing I wanted to do was help my mom make ends meet and I guess I was messed up a hundred different ways and he knew it so he used it against me for his own twisted fun.
The first time it happened he came to my house and asked me to make him breakfast I go over that scene so many times, I think about how he timed it so perfectly knew just when to come and I go over it so many times if I had only not let him in, not opened the door but well I did let him in I opened the door. He asked me to make him breakfast so I did and than I left to go outside I walked in the morning cold for a long time hoping he will leave but he did not, So I went back in and there he was sitting he asked me to sit in the chair opposite to his, I did and he took my hand in his and said you have beautiful hands I love the way your skin is so translucent one can see the blue of your veins right through. I had tried to take my hand away but he grabbed it and pushed me up, I tried to twist out of his grasp but he pushed me against the window and kept one pushing me with his body. He kept squeezing my breasts and fondling them I tried to run away again and every time he would grab me and push me harder against the wall or the window and I guess it was at that time that something broke inside of me, I felt I could not run and if I did I might end up in more trouble than I already was I felt as if I was no longer in my body I was floating on top of the scene watching him grabbing me touching me my legs felt like jelly I got wet and I was completely numb I did not understand what was happening to my body and why it was acting this way. I tried once again to get out of his grip and made it to the kitchen and there I took out a knife and threatened him with it. He finally left me alone.
It was not the only time, he still kept coming to my house and doing whatever he could when ever he could. I have asked my self a hundred times why did I let him do it, why did I not stop and you know it was because he knew how to keep me in his web he made me believe it was all my own fault. I was an unlovable human being who was dirty and disgusting and deserved to be treated like a slut and I guess all the things that had led me to that point in my life all the silly rumors I had been the butt of I too believed him I was a nasty girl who deserved what I was getting. You know people sometimes mistake rape to be a crime of passion it is not, it's all about control it all about taking some one humanity, its about power. Cold raw hard as steel power. I started to beg him to marry me I told him I won't ever tell any one anything just please marry me but all he said was I ll make sure you never get pregnant so there is no reason for us to get married.
There is so much he did that just the memories overwhelm me the hand job where he came all over my clothes his insistence to fuck me with his hands and go in so hard that it ended up breaking me till I bled. The physical abuse one can deal with but the constant mental torture is what hurts more, the mind games the entrapments no matter what I did I could not get away from him. He literally flaunted it in my face he could fuck me in front of people and no one could do anything to stop it me nor any one else he d make me sit in his office and hand fuck me, I can still feel his leacherous gaze, his cold clammy hands going into my pants and touching me till I was wet as fuck, uncomfortable horny in pain but he did not care I was just a fuck toy, nothing more than a tissue paper to be used and discarded I could not do anything even a change in expression was enough to enrage him, shut your fucking mouth keep your face straight. I used to feel in limbo my body was feeling pleasure yet pain and the emotional pain I was feeling I wanted to cry and I guess I did silent quiet tears which I was afraid to shed too scared too ashamed too everything and yet there would be people walking outside looking through into the window and no one did anything.
I had night mares for so many nights I d wake up in a sweat and I d go and shower in cold cold water scrubbing my self till my skin was raw. Some how make the dirt wash off but it never did what was harder was dealing with my own body it seemed some one had opened up a monster inside me I was horny all the time and i did not understand how to get any relief and more than that I hated it. My body became my enemy and this body these feelings which are meant to give us pleasure and happiness. Desire that is a beautiful wonderful thing became torture for me and the worst thing in my mind was that I could not control it I could not make my body stop. Of course its biology one cannot make desire stop any more than one can stop hunger or thirst but yet the culture and religions insist that one has all control over all this.
I had tried to reach out to people in that time but it seemed no one really cared and I was hurting so much my body my mind and it felt there was no out. You see that is why people kill them selves when the pain on the inside grows so much bigger than the pain of dying. So one night I walked onto the golden gate bridge it was windy and a light drizzle was falling I climbed up on the side and looked down I was scared for one second but it lasted only for that one second and than I jumped the water felt cold as ice sharp and than I felt nothing I was suffocating deeper and deeper I went thanks to the suitcase I had tied to my legs, I had thought I will find peace in death but there too I was wrong, so i come to this house most nights trying to find my peace, thank you for listening Nimal thank you for hearing my truth. You have helped me to find my peace.
