Death is a reward.

I dreamed of him again, his fingers thrashing wildly in my clammed up vagina. My nipples were erect, not from pleasure, but from shame. His pot belly was sliding conveniently across my breasts, all the way up, till his penis found its way into my unwilling mouth, forcing my lips apart, the entire shaft went down my throat.

I grasped the sheets so tight, eyes clenched shut. A single, angry tear rolled down my cheek, disappearing down the snow white pillow without a trace. The room was silent, as though filled with a crowd of invisible, awkward spectators, all listening to the sound of me gagging.

He then fucked me, perspiration running down his temple. I laid still, my body stiffly rocking to his plunges. I wanted to throw up. I felt as though my ribs were buckling under his weight. I could smell his sweat and taste that overpowering stench of lust and greed. His penis stuck in like a sore entrapment.

“I will see you again. And I will fuck you harder. I own you, bitch.”

I left the room, my body felt like it was on fire. I wanted to throw my dirty self down a building. But all the inspiration quotes I read the day before acted like a guide, calming my frenzied mind, holding back my impulse… of death.

How can I die? I have to repay my parents for raising me. I have to make sure he won’t post up dirty stories of me, smearing my name with rancid bullshit even after I am stone cold in a casket.

I locked myself in my room, where I was supposed to feel the safest. I slapped myself over and over again. I deserved to be punished. For allowing a fat, disgusting mad man to degrade me this way. Desecrate my life, ripping it to shreds, until there’s no shadow to my own soul. I took out a whip and lashed out at my vagina. This disgusting piece of flesh that was raped and abused. I wanted so much, for it to be removed from my body.

The pain comforted me. I told myself this bitter punishment will relief me a tad bit from this horrible sin.  The physical treatment was like a weaponry pastor. I prayed to the rod for forgiveness.

I slammed my head against the wall, as if the memories could be knocked out from the impact.

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*.

With each stronger blow I dealt, the lesser I felt. I continued doing it until everything goes numb, my face red from the hard slaps, my lower body paralyzed from the lashes. I lie down on my bed, quivering, shaking, crying. Still, my soul chose not to dissipate. Still, my heart beats. My body wanted to live. I had to crawl through the brambles of life’s cruel, existing torment.

I realized by then, epiphany through sheer misery; that death… is a reward.

And I do not deserve it yet.

Drag your feet, trudge through the grime. Let dirt decorate your skin but never taint your soul. Breathe, like the world owes you. Cling on harder and harder like an adamant root in the eroded soil. Cling on to life.

 

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