Her flattened green eyes carpeted by flabby eyelids wandered in a dream. It felt like a recollection of a familiar train of events. Haze had cluttered around the outline of every person and yet she could distinctly recognise each one them. In the middle of all those endearing people, she was sitting on a wooden chair – with a silver knife gripped in her right hand – about to slice the cake. A round bellied man whose face was buried behind the camera chuckled at a joke that someone made about her being twelve years of age, about her not being a child any more, while a short haired woman admonished the person for passing the joke and ran her palm down the little girl’s cheeks repeatedly in a soothing manner. The warmth grew with every stroke. Everybody clapped their hands and sang in unison, the song of an unforgettable birthday. Soon, all the cheery and rejoicing faces faded, a sudden darkness spread across her eyes followed by an ethereal white light that entered through her slitted eyes.
The white bed sheet was being pinched away from her body by a pair of steady hands. She tried to widen her eyes but it stung her to do so. All she could see through the narrow opening was a silhouette of a person. She felt neither her hands nor her feet. Her chest was numb but she could palpitate the muscle of her heart thumping relaxedly. As she ventured to lift her body up with the support of her elbow – although she barely moved – a deep voice emanated from the silhouette, “Oh dear, dear! Don’t you pain yourself. Just lie down…..lie down. You’ll be fine.” The voice, although, sounded to be having come from a concerned tongue, it had a heaviness, as if the speaker’s tongue were weighed down by a ridiculous lie. It rang into her ears like an receding echo. If she kept only listening any longer, she was afraid that she would entail the fear of impaired hearing onto her mind. But she could not cease to wonder where she was or what had become of her.
A few minutes later, while she was engrossed in her conjectures and thoughts, she felt something cold prick the skin of her right arm. A needle perhaps. It pierced deeper and stayed there for a while. She was in a hospital, she was at least sure of that but before any other thought crossed her mind, darkness spread across her eyes and she went back to a sleep. The dream was replaying itself again. All the joyous faces calling her with the sweetest names and wishes, pampering and cuddling with her.
The round bellied man scurried back and forth between the walls of the room with an anxious mind and a furrowed brow. The woman with short hair sat on a chair, gloomily mumbling something. Perhaps, she was praying. “She would be fine, wouldn’t she?” she asked shakily. “In all the kindness and faith that we have had so far, she will be. Do not worry, my dear,” replied the round bellied man.
It was a few minutes later that she regained consciousness, only partly though. But this time she was more aware of her aura than before. Her neck felt wet and warm. A robust hand pressed against her breast. Before she realised what had happened it was already squeezing her breast. She wanted to scream out with all the strength she could amass but only a muffled sigh slid out of her mouth. She wanted to punch the bastard, the scoundrel but what strength did she have to inch a muscle? And then she saw the face of the devilish human, as he reciprocated about her body, about her face, violently. She heaviness from his voice had vanished and she could clearly hear his detestable moans. Their eyes met once and she was repelled, disgusted. It was the same man who had passed a joke about her being twelve, about her being not a child anymore. It was the same fucking man, it was her uncle.
Now she knew exactly where she was, beneath him, helplessly lying like a corpse. She did not cry, she could not but only wandered in a mind numbing thought – how many times before?