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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1036652-No-Means-No
Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Experience · #1036652
Ladies, please don't let this be you.
No means no. Really, it does; I promise you. No.

She remembers in her nightmares; frozen, alone. Unable to react, unable to breathe. Get your filthy hands off of her, and let her hands go free. They were not meant to touch you.

She wakes with a start, heart pounding, sweat pouring down her face, her neck, her back. She shakes as though hypothermic; she can’t control herself. She quickly turns on her bedside lamp and rushes out into the hallway to lock herself in her tiny bathroom. Gazing into the mirror at her bloodshot eyes, her ragged hair, her clammy skin, she scrubs her hands, and splashes cold water on her face, then fills her cupped hands with icy water and drinks eagerly to sooth her dry throat. She dries herself off before quietly making her way back to bed, where she curls up and pulls her covers over her head, hiding. Shielding herself from the close, gloomy darkness.

No matter how many times she washes her hands, she will not be clean of you. She was innocent. You ruined her.

She would sleep, but she knows as soon as she closes her eyes, she will see him there before her, smiling down at her as she struggles away from his hard, cold grip. She shudders under her blankets; lays awake for hours. His grotesque touch is like venom, and his words are liquid poison in her ears…

Petrified, immobile, I watch them. He is telling her she’s beautiful, and that he is so in love with her, as he tortures her, forcing submission. She screams inside, and he laughs outside.

“I never thought I’d get here,” he says before whispering gently everything he has planned for her.

She attempts to wrench free. I try to intervene, but I cannot help her. I try to pull him off of her, scratch at his eyes.

Leave her alone. Have you not caused her enough damage? Stop it! She can feel you ripping her…can’t you see it hurts?

Gouging her like a knife, he smiles. Outside she turns cold, and inside she dies.

He’s tearing her open, exposing her, wounding her as she lays there, frozen in bewilderment, trying to escape the reality he brings down upon her; a reality that no one should suffer.

And I can’t do anything to help her except wake up.

WAKE UP!

Oh God, help her, please. She needs you…
I turn on my bedside lamp and silently dart into my bathroom. I wash my hands over and over again. I can’t get them clean…

I can still hear his voice; I can still feel his hands…
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