The Voice of a victim

As I turn the page of last night. My breathe starts running fast. That black night with immense darkness fears and scares me the most. When I was returning from my job late night. , They blew my sense out with chloroform. Tearing my dress felt like they killed my soul. And my own people tore me apart. I cried the loudest. I screamed the scariest. Streams of tears ran down my cheeks. But found none to save me from the scariest. Not one not two but a gang raped me. They came closer to me, Left a scar on me as they rested hands over my breast, Bruising my thighs, Fidgeting their finger over my labia, Rubbing their hands over my body, Held me tight stopping me to scream. Intensifying their so called coward manhood in the darkness when the world sleeps. Anxiety, Anger, Embarrassment, Fear, Loneliness, all that I felt, Laying their naked with a blanket, I could feel the injuries of my soul. Hoping that my dreams will not cease. I felt disconnected from society and my life, The smell was so constant that I couldn't get over it for months, I still feel preoccupied with thoughts. I still feel like it's happening all over again. I couldn't sleep throughout the night. Nights seem to beckon me. I lost a part of mine. I still wake up every night feeling the horror of assault. My past horrifies me. The pain is unbearable.