Inspired by many true stories...

Dedicated to all those females, who are the victims of molestation...

'Comment' if this story ever touches your heart, slightly...

'Comment' if your blood boils by the mere mention of the word – 'rape'...

'Comment' if you want me to continue...

'comment' if you empathize/sympathize with the protagonist and all the victims of molestation...


They shoved up a four inch zinc rod up my ass and I screamed in pain. I could no longer bear this pain...this humiliation. It had been a week. For seven days they had been torturing me. I was not sure how long it would go or at what point my unblemished soul would leave my blemished body.

I prayed for death every moment. My life was a living hell. In those seven days, I forgot who I used to be, once. I lost my identity. I did not know myself. I hated to know myself. Pain was not the worst part of it. Humiliation was, to a great extent. The taste of humiliation was like molten iron. Scorching. Unbearable. Murderous. But that was not the worst either. Worst of all was my behaviour. Though I prayed for death, I was not ready to die...I was too weak to deny them...to fight them. I was the world's most miserable wretched creature who begged and humiliated herself to earn every breath of her life, because I did not have it in myself – the courage to die. Or in another way if I say, I was brave, adamant and shameless enough to live such a pathetic example of life instead of killing myself. You can take your pick, but I would always like to think myself as a adamant one, for it gave me a tiny little spark of courage that helped me endure those monstrous seemed an easy option out but I lived, because I hoped to escape from their hands one day and take my revenge. They had murdered my dignity, robed me of my purity. And slowly my self-pity was dying. Anger and vengeance were replacing my grief and fear. All my usual characteristic elements were changing.

Not only me but also my mortal human form was not something it used to be once. Burn marks, scratches and bruises covered every inch of my body- which used to be unblemished and beautiful. Everything had changed in these seven days - my life had changed. Nothing was like, what it used to be 'once'. And, 'once' everything was perfect.