Forgotten Piece

Forgotten Piece

3 mins

Everyone has a breaking point and when you reach there words spill from the broken soul unabashedly splash on the paper soaking it with unimaginable misery. I'm not a grieving soul because for me grieving period has long passed by. I'm a survivor who came out alive of a hurricane that shook my life to the core yet made me into what I'm today.

Maybe it was my destiny or maybe I was an unfortunate 18-year-old girl that night. It's funny how the life-altering moments happen in the blink of an eye. At the most unexpected moment. I was kidnapped in the middle of the night by a sick psycho and was dragged to the life I had never even dreamt of. My entire life came crashing down right before my eyes as I lay bound helplessly in the clutches of my captor. I did my share of fighting, struggling, escaping but with my every attempt at freedom being thwarted to grounds I cracked. Yet I waited.

Waited for someone to find me. Waited for my family to come for me. Waited for anyone to rescue me. Hours turned into days, days bled into weeks, weeks tumbled into months and months gave way to years but no one came. I had lost track of time by then. I had lost track of who I was. The man whipped, slapped, kicked, thrashed me but what actually got to me was that he acted as if I deserved it. Like it was all my fault.

At first, I withheld the screams for they gave him pleasure but after days I simply didn't care. I screamed till I could no more. I cried until I felt numb. It was like my body had grown accustomed to pain. Every second there I begged him to kill me and he would laugh breezily like I was whining over a ruined dress. Two years went by as I was trapped in hell with a demon and pain by my side. Don't torture someone to the extent that they forget what pain is. When it finally sank in that no one was coming for me something in died or maybe was born. I killed him. It was as sudden as it sounds.

There was no planning, no elaborate tactics just a sudden moment of rage and two years of piled up pain. I didn't cry in grief nor did I sigh in relief when my nightmare ended in daylight. I lay there motionlessly with his blood staining my hand and soul, wondering was I a murderer? I dragged my being to the place I called home. But when I saw them living their life like I never existed. Like I was some other girl on news, it broke me like those two years never could.

That monster battered my body but they crushed my soul and shattered me to pieces as they moved on with their lives like I was no more. I screamed in agony as if being stabbed with knives for this time it wasn't my body but my heart that bled. Sluggishly I strung along with the pieces of my soul and turned my back to the people I once loved and trudged on an untrodden path to the obscured dusk of my macabre excursion. And here I'm with no friends or family to speak of but an unflinching soul to brag about.

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