Will you answer some of the questions that haunt me? Give me the answers that i dread. The knowledge that i fear. No. i don’t know what I’m asking for. Spare me. Don’t spare me. Punish me. Punish them. Punish everyone.
I can’t stop my tears. I struggle to hold back the silent screams that keep wanting to break free. My sobs escape even when i think i have my pain packed in and closed off. When i think i don’t feel is when the sharp, searing pain stops me in my tracks and i double up and sink to the floor. I’m in pain when her name is mentioned and when everyone studiously avoids bringing up her name. I don’t know what to do with this pain. I can’t breathe. I can’t think clearly. I can’t hear anyone. I can’t taste my food. I feel nothing. Only pain. Terrorising pain. Pain for her pain. Pain for what she went through. Pain of feeling helpless. Pain that i will never see her again. Never scold her. Never hug her. Never say the things i always wanted to. Never see her in love or with her children. I can’t cope with the thought of ‘never’. Oh god. How do i accept this horror? This nightmare?
I read the newspaper reports again and again and again … not wanting to see and yet wanting desperately to share her pain and her last thoughts as she finally gave in. To hold her tight and wipe away the horror. Turn back the clock. See her smile. Hear her laugh. Stop her. Fold her in my arms and refuse to let her out of my sight.
What was she thinking? Did she know her time had come? How hard did she have to fight? Did she feel the horror or did she go away before the pain could reach her? Did they not feel any remorse or pity? Didn’t they hear her screams? Do those screams haunt them today? What about their mothers? Are they proud of their sons? Proud of what they did? What is wrong with these people that they can justify these heinous acts by blaming a young girl? I want to curse them all. I want to curse the families. The people around me. I want to hurt someone. I feel such rage. Such anger. What do i do?
I don’t want these thoughts. I can’t bear them. I can’t bear the thought of it … and then i think to myself … she went through all of it and i shudder at just having to think about it?
Its six months now but the questions keep surfacing like dead wood. The pain has become lead in the pit of my stomach. I’ve gone so deep into my self that i don’t know how to come out of this fog that surrounds me all the time. I fear i may be going mad.
A distraught mother