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When she looked up at her father, her eyes screamed in pain as they darted towards the body abandoned in the corner. A body used to his abuse, taunts, slapping, kicking. Had it given up? Or would it rise again, to justify and bear more humiliation?
“You go willingly to a strange place with a boy and then cry that you have been raped? Huh?” the man behind the desk asked. “What did you expect? You went there looking for sex, right?”
“Who is to be pitied here? You or me? I understand you didn’t want to give me a chance, but what kind of a President have you chosen?” Our Muse of the Month series this year focus on stories that pass the Bechdel test, and are written on inspiration from a new prompt every month. This […]
I want to start today by answering one particular question you had- How can a girl from a small town in Haryana dream of becoming an astronaut and going to space? How is that possible?
Of course it isn’t easy! Do you think it was easy for her friend to achieve all her dreams, even as she was dying? Or for Annabelle herself, to write about that as a story?
She could not love the “little bundle of joy”. All it did was remind her of that awful night, the pain, the cursed pain. And blood. She bled again to let this little thing breath. She had to bear the pain again for it.
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