literature poetry SHORT STORIES writing


I poured every secret out, without thinking twice. Today those 12years dead me is all out. He wasn’t worth my outbreaks, but the goodness within me is still alive. I forgive all his touching but did I still fear his existence?

I guess no, he isn’t that dominant, he couldn’t rip my world apart, just a ruthless human who took life from a baby girl’s heart. 20year old me couldn’t neglect about the things he did to me, but the goddess inside have all the hopes and belief. That human does commit sins too if molesting was his sin than he’ll be punished by karma, he’ll transform to a better someone very soon.

Thoughts do come to my mind too. Like, am I an unpretentious person or I don’t know how to deal with monsters like him. I can’t feel any hurt, no more do I feel happiness in my essence. Why everything is a nonentity fo me?

These questions arise every day, hours feel like years sometimes. But things changes, they say. Believing all of it I keep myself awake. Thinking my scrapes would overwhelm someday, I smile at my misfortune. I smell the dismay and uncover the untruths that make me optimistic.

Why does every time, the victim had to face the consequences?

I assume, everybody someday has been a victim. Strength to each one of you. Cause sufferers have nothing they could adore in life that was bestowed to them by the divinity himself. The life that was nothing but a miserable happening. That took every tiny joy that was being embraced.

With no value for existence, the surviving was the only choice as there was no life which was about the achievement of pleasure. A broke down individual have nothing to regain, and the society says “that’s what a human-like you deserves ”.

Speaking of deserving something, that wasn’t so praised by society. It is a scar on us. A blemish that has told us what someone did.

-Riya Shah

By Ray