Dreams

I had a dream about a girl who was pretty and sweet. She was beloved by many and as innocent as a young woman can be. She didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, she didn’t lie or betray. She was a pure and kind soul to anyone she encountered.

One day, while walking on the streets, she spotted a handsome male looking at her. He had a sharp look, but she didn’t gazed long. She wasn’t ready for boys. Her routine continued and they met again by surprise. The began to talk, shared a table and different talks. She left on with her mind wondering about staying.

A week had passed when they saw each other again. This time, he invited her to meet at night, go out for a dance and a bit of fun. She wasn’t a girl of the nights, but she agreed that she needed a break. Acceptances and preparations took place.

They met at a local club. Danced a bit, got a drink or two. She needed to drive back, so no alcohol for her. She wore nice heels and a beautiful party dress. Couple of hours gone and her rhythm began to change. She got slow, and the floor started to blur. She felt like faint and retired to the entrance. A woman came to help, when the guy backed her off. She herd him saying that all she needed was her boyfriend and no one else.

Deep breath and another one. And suddenly, it was all gone.

Lights everywhere, red and blue colouring the streets. She could barely see. Chattering people, screams of horror. She didn’t know what to think until she realised those eyes on her. She didn’t know where she was, but she felt her body in deep pain. Some warmth between her legs, she raised her hands only to see it covered in red. She fainted nothing but scared.

A lightening came through her head and her eyes opened to stare. Two familiar worried faces in front of her, the mom, the dad and tears without an explanation. She focused to feel her toes but the response told her that something was wrong. Questions came along with the doctor who had just come in. She didn’t know anything. Last think she remembered was being happy and then dozing off. As the explanations landed, it was all a horror movie.

He put her in the his car and got inside her. He raped her in the backseat while she was asleep. He promised to take care of her, instead, he was taking all he could. Hours later, when he was gone, her eyes began to open. He couldn’t be in trouble, he couldn’t be charged. He started the car, stepped down to fast forward and threw her out of the car along the way. He hoped she would never awake.

The news were everywhere: “slut shamed”, they said. “got what she deserved”, they shouted. While she would never walk again, her ears and eyes were all she wanted shut. “She shouldn’t be out alone so late”, they wrote. “look what she was wearing? she was asking for it!”, they guessed.

No words about the guy, no saying about the rapist. She was gone but it didn’t matter. She cried but nobody saw.
Her story was changed into a lie served raw.

I woke up in pain. Wishing it was only a dream, wishing it was something that it wasn’t real. But as dreams sometimes reflect our wild wishes, they also portrait the reality around us, bringing up the terrors and the fears the lie the deepest inside ourselves.

#metoo

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