“No”, I pleaded, trying to push my trembling self behind, to the corner of the room. I could feel my heart pounding abnormally fast.
“I am sorry”, I wailed. Tears kept flowing down my cheeks. Claustrophobia had consumed me all. Beads of sweat kept sprouting on my forehead incessantly.
It was dark. The room was eerie. I was fenced by a gang of ghastly-looking men. They seemed well in their late 20s. I had no memory how I had landed here. It was only when I felt one of the men groping my thighs, did I regain my consciousness.
They laughed at my cries. They would guffaw amongst themselves, every time I shrieked. My brain had ceased functioning. I tried to think of a quick plot, to run away from the scene. I tried to search for my tote, all in a failed attempt. My tote had always been home to a redundant pepper-spray. Until that day, I’d never thought I’d ever put the spray to use. But to my ill fate, I couldn’t locate my bag either. I groped my pockets hard, but I couldn’t feel my cell either.
I was in the tight clench of hopelessness by then. I was panting, gasping for breath. One of the men, came close and slouched. He tried pulling over the hems of my top, in an attempt to undress me. I gave a strong kick in his stomach, but all in vain. Another man came close and gave a hard squeeze to my breast. His pressing grew harder, with every next attempt. I was helpless. Numbness had taken over me.
I was living a nightmare, I never thought I’d ever fall prey to.
And then my alarm rang. I got up with a thud. I was all soaked up in sweat. I felt as though my heart was no more in the safe precincts of my rib cage. It took a while for my racing heartbeats to regain their normal pace.
Until today, I dread that nightmare. Every time I read any news piece stating a molestation or a rape case, that nightmare comes back to haunt me. I cannot imagine the trauma that many women go through. Mere pity can never solve such issues, I know.
Every mother needs to raise her son right. Reverence towards woman is something every mother needs to ingrain in her child. We need to cease seeing women as mere objects of pleasure. Only then can we hit the equality bar!
Daily Prompt: Nightmare
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Some More Fiction 