I'm an enigma, an entity, a walking paradox because I live but I'm not alive. Not any more. I wasn't always like this though, I used to be a ball of exploding light, a flower blossoming into a young woman. I was beautiful, I was eccentric.
For most people, they can't pinpoint the moment when they discovered the meaning of their life, the moment they went from that immature kid, passing through the motions and letting life run its course. I can. I can recall the exact moment in time; the date, the hour. It haunts my sleep and bombards my conscious mind. There's no escaping it. In movies, when you think there's a monsters in your closet, you open it and find nothing there and you can go to sleep. It's not like that for me. The monsters are real and they're not in your closet, they're walking the streets, they're eating at your favourite restaurant, they're going to your favourite clubs.
When something like this happens there are three types of people. There's the ones who don't believe you, there's the ones who believe you but believe it's your fault and there's those who believe you, believe it wasn't your fault but eventually get bored of waiting for you to overcome it.
None of them are easy to deal with.
The last ones, the ones who want you to get over it are the worse. They say things like: 'you can't let this ruin your life', 'it's been months, how long are you going to keep moping?', 'you need to get over this'. How do you tell them it's not that easy? How do you explain to them that you haven't healed properly? That you're finding parts of him inside of you? A piece of him in your knee cap, strands of his hair mixed in with your own, his DNA masking and suffocating you. How do you tell them that you can't wear that dress again without remembering him pulling the strap down your shoulder like a lovers caress, or those shoes because even though you've cleaned the blood on them you can still see it clear as day from when you broke his nose by kicking and trying to escape?
The ones who are convinced its your fault, they're nearly as bad. You can't look in the mirror without thinking maybe if I didn't wear that lipstick, maybe if I just woke my parents up to get them to pick me up, maybe if I never drank, maybe if I didn't tempt him. Because that's it, isn't it? He was a predator and I was his prey and I tempted him. If I hadn't been a girl, if I hadn't wore feminine clothing or make up or had my hair in the way I did then this wouldn't of happened. Maybe if I stayed in instead of enjoying my life I'd have my dignity, my pride, my hope.
But what's dignity, pride and hope matter when you're not living your life?
The ones who don't believe you, despite common belief, are the easiest ones to deal with. They leave you alone, they don't say anything to you. You don't exist to them. That's all I want now. I want not to exist. To be that familiar stranger in a crowd that looks like someone you know but you actually don't. I want to be that person in an old family picture of a picnic, in the background with a blank expression fading away, soon to be forgotten by everyone and then one day when you look back, they're no longer there. They ceased to exist.
Because I'm living but I'm not alive. Because I was attacked in every sense of the word. I was embarrassed and shamed. My pride, my innocence, my hope, my life was washed away by the rain that was falling that night, my happiness was stolen like how he stole my panties as some sick and twisted souvenir of his conquest that night. Because that what I was. A conquest. Often people say people rape as a twisted way of love and pleasure. That's a lie. It's about dominating, it's about embarrassing, it's about destroying. All you have to do is listen in on a game of Call of Duty to know that. The boys shout 'I raped you', they're not talking about showing affection and love, they're talking about destroying, embarrassing, dominating their opponent.
I'm an enigma, an entity, a walking paradox because I live but I'm not alive. But no more. From here on out, I live. I'm a fighter, a survivor. I will teach my children and my grandchildren to be fighters and survivors. Because I'm a ball of exploding light and I am a force to be reckoned with, my children and grandchildren will be balls of exploding light and forces to be reckoned with. And to any predator that wants to face that force, I warn you, I have been to hell and I refuse to ever go back there.
I will be nobody else's conquest.