It is not a game.

Published August 12, 2014 by Shreya Rajvanshi

It was a cold December night
The moon looked dull in the cloudless sky
The trees stood still, it was suffocating.
There was no sound,
Yet the silence was so loud.

Quietly she moved along the dark lane
Into the deserted street
With nobody, nothing to fill her sight.
She was tired of walking,
Her feet were aching.

She was a few blocks away from home
When a faint sound reached her ears
She stopped, barely breathing.
The air was smelling of stench,
The thirst of anxiety, she couldn’t quench.

She heard that booming laugh
On her neck, his breath she could sense
Fear had groped her.
She wanted to run,
But she was frozen.

He silenced her with his mouth
Filling her with his dirt
Peeling off her pride.
He committed the ugliest sin,
He violated her innocence.

She resisted, fought, screamed
She pled and she begged
Trying hard to save her dignity.
But the sound of her tears,
Fell on deaf ears.

It seemed like ages
When he finally went away
She was torn.
She was outraged,
She felt caged.

Numbness consumed her
Her eyes were hollow
She kept her head down.
Empty from inside,
Her spirit had died.

The smile vanished
The light disappeared
Everything was blur.
She took her last breath,
And embraced her death.


2 comments on “It is not a game.

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