Violated

I noticed a different voice one day and as I lifted myself up to the grill to concentrate, it came to me that there were three people speaking to each other as opposed to the normal two. I tried to listen in to the conversation but they spoke in whispers. For once they wanted the details of their conversations to remain confidential.

The cell door opened soon after and the stranger stood at the door with the normal two guards flanking him. They said nothing and as he took a step forward the other two guards took a step back and one of them locked the door. I somehow knew what was coming and I had no fight to fight it. He knelt down on my blanket and began to grope at my breasts in the darkness.

I wanted to kick and punch him, I wanted to claw his eyes out but I knew it was all over for me. I prayed this was the end, I prayed that after he raped me he would send me to meet my maker. I was finished. I closed my eyes. He didn’t exactly tear my clothes from me, there was no need for that as I offered very little resistance. He pulled at my cardigan and then removed my t-shirt underneath. As he removed my bra and groped and fondled me some more I was aware that he was breathing quite hard and at one point he pushed himself on top of me while he gyrated up and down. He performed this action for some time and then started to undress me from the waist down at the same time removing his shirt and then his trousers. His rough hands pawed at my vagina as his breathing gained pace and he moaned and groaned stopping occasionally to rub between his own legs.

I could make out the white of his teeth and the sweat on his brow and as he moved and bucked ever faster, little drops of spittle and sweat fell onto my face. His breath smelled of cigarettes and I tensed up as he roughly spread my legs and then his horrible claw like fingers were inside me. I let out a squeal which seemed to excite him as he panted and grunted and groaned ever harder and then he tensed up, cried out in ecstasy and in an instant collapsed on top of me as gradually his breathing began to return to normal.

I was puzzled. Although I was a virgin I believed I was fairly well educated as to what sexual intercourse involved and I knew immediately that I hadn’t had sexual intercourse with him and therefore I hadn’t been raped. He stood and started to dress. He knocked on the cell door and his colleagues opened it up. As the light flooded in I could make out the shape of their pathetic sneering, grinning faces. My would-be rapist made a show of buckling up his trousers in full view of his friends as they looked on.

“Did you do the Muslim bitch?”

“You bet.”

I couldn’t quite believe it. What would his colleagues think if they knew the truth? The soldier had ejaculated prematurely, way too prematurely, before he’d even entered me and he stood with his chest puffed out as proud as a peacock as his fellow monsters congratulated him. One of them even slapped him on the back as they left the cell and locked the door behind them.

Although I hadn’t been raped it felt as if I had. I took no pleasure or comfort from the fact my rapist hadn’t been able to carry out the assignment he’d planned to do. I lay there cold and naked for some hours and the disgusting smell of my attacker would not leave me. His breath was on me, his body odour too and something altogether different and as the smells mingled and lingered and enveloped me like a blanket that smothered me I felt my stomach going into spasms. I rushed over to the corner of the cell where I vomited and brought up the contents of my stomach. I stayed there for some time telling myself that the sour stench of my vomit was better than the stink from my attacker, which had now been absorbed into my blankets.

I banged on the cell door pleading to be showered. I didn’t care what type of shower, hot, cold, it didn’t matter. My pleas went unheard. The soldiers had gone to celebrate with a beer at one of the local bars no doubt and the pretend rapist would entertain them with legendary tales of his sexual prowess. Eventually I dressed as the cold night air began to penetrate my bones. I still couldn’t bring myself to lie on my blankets that night. Wrapping myself in them would be like reliving the attack all over again. I sat on the opposite side of the cell to my sleeping section. I didn’t even have the energy to pull my shoes on.

I sat there motionless staring into the blackness. I sat there all night. They brought me some bread and jam the following morning.

I was finished. I would never leave the cell alive. My bread and jam remained untouched, the bean broth they brought that evening went cold until the cockroaches came that night and enjoyed the mother of all feasts. I heard them scuttling all over the plate and I wished them no harm and yet I was strangely jealous of them because although we all lived out our existence in a black stinking hole at least they had freedom of movement and could come and go as they pleased.

Although the cockroaches ate most of my food the guards sensed that I wasn’t eating again and it strangely concerned them though I couldn’t understand why.

“We know you’ve stopped eating.”

I didn’t answer.

“You have to eat.”

I ignored them, turned around and faced the wall, which didn’t go down too well. One of them grabbed me and pulled me out of the cell. I didn’t bother to stand. It was then that they noticed I’d messed myself.

“You dirty bitch.”

He turned to his colleague.

“Get the shower hose ready.”

I didn’t have the energy to stand, I didn’t have the energy to eat and I didn’t have the energy to request a toilet visit anymore. Running their pathetic gauntlet game was out of the question. So I went to the toilet in my bed. I’d given up all hope and I’d even stopped dreaming. I remembered reading somewhere that when we no longer dream we die. That’s where I was and there was a bizarre type of relief in the fact that I’d given up.

They stripped me and dragged me along the corridor to the shower block where they hosed me with the cold hose. I felt nothing, no pain, no coldness... nothing. They dried and dressed me. I told them to leave me alone. They lifted me to my feet and ordered me to walk back to my cell but when they stopped supporting me I simply crumpled to the floor. They shouted and barked at me and I told them to let me die. They dragged me back to the main room and sat me at a table and soon after they brought me some hot bean soup. My head flopped onto the table that made them angry.

“Eat you bitch,” one of them screamed.

“Let me die.”

But they wouldn’t let me die and instead they forced the plastic spoon into my mouth until the bowl was empty and I cursed them under my breath.

I shouted at them.

“Why won’t you let me die, what good am I to you?”

They didn’t answer me.

The following day I soiled myself again, the whole cell stank of excrement and urine and they took me through the whole shower process again, dressed me, and force fed me at the table. I begged them to let me die but they ignored me and threw me back into the cell again. I would beat them like I had beaten Kupi. I wanted to die and it didn’t matter what they did to me they were not going to stop me.