I Regret He Did Not Killed Me After Raping me So Badly

“When being raped, she shouldn’t fight back. She should just be silent and allow the rape. Then they’d have dropped her off after ‘doing her’, and only hit the boy,” he said.

I try hard to not follow rape stories. I try everyday and fail every second because rape happens every third second in this country. There’s always a cringing fear that it’s soon coming to you, considering the ridiculous sex ratio. I’m scared it’ll come to me. Again. There’s no bigger fear than to expect a gruesome incident that you’ve experienced in this lifetime to happen to you yet again. This does not mean I wish it would happen to anyone else in this world. But I’m selfish and I sometimes feel like carrying a placard around that’ll say, “I’m done, it’s done.” May be that will tingle some sort of emotions in these inhuman bastards.

But then I remember, they have no emotions. They are not human. They just want to assert the power they think they have over you. They are devils born on this land in the name of God to create vile, horrendous bitterness for people on earth. They rape a girl, bite her all over, beat her up; if that’s not satisfying enough, they shove a rod into her vagina and if that is also not enough, they shove their hand into her and pull out her intestines. She cries, she begs, for no fault of hers, she shakes with fear and cries a little more, but they go into her and out till she bleeds to death.

And what do they say to that?

“She had to learn a lesson.”

This did not happen to me, I have still ‘struggled’ to survive. To be honest, I didn’t think Jyoti was justified to get all the attention for being a rape victim. I had been there too! But then… I heard her story. I still can’t get over the fact that she was so strong to have survived after ALL OF THAT. My first thought was “At least I had it easier.”

Why did she go through all this?

Because she resisted and she learnt a lesson. And today, she is being given a death sentence after death, that too by her rapists. Why Jyoti? Why did you resist? Why didn’t you gladly have sex with the handsome looking motherfu**ers?

But I expect this to happen to me every second of the day. I have a phobia. So I keep planning. What will my reaction be if this happens to me again? Should I carry a pepper spray? But pepper spray works on humans, I’m not sure about its application here. And recently, the answer came to me directly.

I will lay there naked this time and not resist because I now know the secret to “not getting killed” after getting raped.

Yes I’m one of them, and my only fault is that I survived. To die a little every single day. But I always tell myself that mine was an ‘easier rape’. It hurts but does not hurt that much. It could’ve been much worse, I tell myself every day. This is why I’m probably one of the few rape victims who’s talking about it so openly. But I don’t know why we don’t. I don’t know why people say, “We shouldn’t talk about rape in India.” I don’t care what kind of society this is! I am suffering and I am not allowed to get help. No- not even from my mother! Do I lose the right to be treated like a human being because a monster raped me?

But if I raise my voice against it anyway, it provokes mentally disabled men like Mukesh Singh to find a hole, and find darkness at the the end of the tunnel for their prey?

I’ve spent the last two years trying to read about the mental state of these a**holes and the more I read, the lesser I feel for my rape. My rape, not my rapist. Why? Because I feel bad, I feel sorry for the men who can never feel contentment in their life. My rapist is still a megalomaniac prick inside his brainless head, but I have fought against my demons and my depression and I have become so much stronger. But those rapists are and will always be strays on the streets hunting for some treat to mitigate their horrid hunger every day.

I’m alive today because my rapist didn’t kill me- because I was his friend and not because I didn’t resist. I did. With all the life in me, I resisted. I remember the anxiety when I was at his place and he started touching me at all the awkward places. I wasn’t drunk. He was. Trying to act decent, he first asked me if I’d sleep with him. I said a plain No. I wasn’t into him. In my head, I was making plans to leave but his face looked like a criminal’s face already.

I texted my best friend to call so that I could’ve received it and said there was an emergency. Till then, I hadn’t realised that he was one of those. Mental retards. My friend was probably asleep and it was probably my bad day.

I should’ve realised when he chose to take me for coffee to his place before he dropped me home that night. I couldn’t have gone home alone so late at night, especially in the “rape capital”. But I didn’t know something worse was waiting for me at his place. When I said No to sleeping with him, he lost it. It happens with these mindless, a**-holic fu**s. When they are drooling and the treat is right in front of them, they can go to any extent to grab it. Same happened with me.

When I said No, he pounced at me to kiss me forcefully. You obviously don’t kiss beasts so it was more like him biting on to my lips. When I shrug him off, he got angry. He came towards me with even greater force. Harsher this time. He was pressing his body against mine like he hadn’t ever seen a moving woman before. I was soon tired of putting up a fight. The more I fought, the more it physically hurt. In the end, I was as good as a dead body. Resisting didn’t help and when I noticed it turned him into an animal, I stopped resisting. But it made things worse, I just lay there. Resisting didn’t help but neither did ‘not resisting’. He did me from behind, from the front and from everywhere it was possible to sneak his little thing in any possible hole in my body. He was treating my body like a toy, turning me around, throwing me here and there. He was really enjoying it. I could see it on his face. I was only crying, I was too numb to react.

I bled from almost everywhere. You know how rape victims look like in images, that’s exactly how I looked. But, I survived. He didn’t kill me.

Thank you friend, for that! For not killing me wholly and just killing my soul. But see Jyoti, I survived. For not being as brave and as courageous as you were, for not talking when I needed to, for not standing up and making sure that brutality pays. For not taking his name and getting nightmares everyday even at the thought of getting legal help.

I’m the coward you were not and guess what? I get to live to see these monsters blame us. I have to live to see them talk while I sit at home losing my mind to depression. That’s a death sentence for me as it is.

And you, your culprit wants to grant you a death sentence after death. This is the world we live in Jyoti, this is how we pay for being a part of this society.

Author’s note:

I’m a rape victim but I’m not Jyoti. I’m just not that brave Jyoti and I’m so sorry for that. Had I spoken out loud before, you’d probably be living today. I’m sorry.

Source - Akkarbakkar