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Adhithya Sakthivel

Crime Others

4.1  

Adhithya Sakthivel

Crime Others

The Rape Victim

The Rape Victim

3 mins
427


Beauty provokes harassment,

The law says, but it looks through men's; eyes when deciding what provokes it,

I strongly believe that love is the answer; and that it can mend even the deepest unseen wounds,

Love can heal, love can console, love can strengthen,

And yes, love can make a change.


I became what I am today at the age of twelve,

On a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975,

I remember the precise moment,

Crouching behind a crumbling mud wall,

Peeking into the alley near the frozen creek,

That was a long time ago,

But it’s wrong what they say about the past,

I’ve learned, about how you can bury it, Because the past claws its way out, Looking back now, I realize,

I have been peeking into that deserted,

Alley for the last twenty-six years.


Heaven is comfort, but it's still not living,

I'd still thought that everything,

I thought about that night-the shame,

The fear-would fade in time,

But that hadn't happened,

Instead, the things that I remembered,

These little details seemed to grow stronger,

To the point where I could feel their weight in my chest.


Nothing, however, stuck with me more; than the memory of stepping into that dark room,

And what I found there, and how the light then took that nightmare and made it real.


The ordinary response to atrocities is to banish them from consciousness, 

Certain violations of the social compact are too terrible to utter aloud: this is the meaning of the word unspeakable,

Atrocities, however, refuse to be buried, Equally as powerful as the desire to deny atrocities is the conviction that denial does not work,

Folk wisdom is filled with ghosts who refuse to rest in their graves until their stories are told,

Murder will out.


Remembering and telling the truth about,

Terrible events are prerequisites both for;

The restoration of the social order and; for the healing of individual victims,

The conflict between the will to deny horrible events,

And the will to proclaim them aloud is;

The central dialectic of psychological trauma,

People who have survived atrocities,

Often tell their stories in a highly emotional, contradictory, and fragmented manner,

That undermines their credibility and thereby serves the twin imperatives of truth-telling and secrecy.


When the truth is finally recognized, survivors can begin their recovery,

But far too often secrecy prevails,

And the story of the traumatic event;

Surfaces not as a verbal narrative but as a symptom,

The psychological distress symptoms of;

Traumatized people simultaneously call;

Attention to the existence of an unspeakable secret and deflect attention from it.


She couldn’t get any farther away inside from her skin,

She couldn’t get away,

Come back so I can say yes this time do,

It again now that I know what to call what you did,

This time I'll be ready I like it rough now,

And I'm done with romance I never met,

Another man who loved me so much at, the first sight had to hurt me to do it.


It already is bigger than everything else, It lives in front of me, behind me,

Next to me, inside me every single day, My schedule is dictated by it,

My habits by it, my music by it.


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