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She was Afraid to Scream

She Couldn't Scream
She Just Couldn't Scream
He grabbed her With such a cold twisted smirk on his face, the lust in his eyes clearly visible. She could see his engorged manhood ready for action.

He would have her, he thought, whether she wanted it or not. An eerie feeling washed over her. A cold shiver ran down her spine.

She pleaded, with hopes of appealing to his human side but there was no humanity nor conscience left in him only animalistic urges that needed to be satisfied

With a swift motion he carried and threw her on the bed because he was much stronger than she could have ever imagine, She fought, kicked and scratched.
Determined not to let go without a fight but he was strong, his urges made him even more stronger.

She saw that he was winning and with a desperate effort she tried to choke him. To phase off her attacker, like in the movies, but he seemed to like it better.

She just was not strong enough. She began to cry, pleading. He stopped for a moment, disgusted by her tears, but he was not deterred, his senses were down, his urges were up, He was more determined to force her, to have her.

Then she began to raise her voice, He stopped visibly scared, in a glimpse, she saw it. Could it be working? The shouting, she thought. That was his weak point but then she stopped raising her voice as realization dawned on her.

A new kind of fear enveloped her, not of the beast trying to force himself on her but of the cameras

Yes, those awful cameras, Once she screamed for help people would come to her aid, But they would not come alone, They would come with their phones and cameras, desperately seeking hot gossips and news, They would twist her story to suit their desires for more views, more likes.

They would circulate her pictures on social media, She would be subjected to judgmental scrutiny, tagged shameful and a disgrace. She could almost see the headlines.

slay queen almost raped by a man in his apartment

She could almost read the comments ‘useless greedy girl, she probably went to beg for money’.

For a girl, what was worse than getting raped?

Having your pictures in the media and your story twisted to suit gossip blogs. She might never get a chance to tell her side (the real side) of her story. The stigma would haunt her for years, if not the rest of her life.

He had promised to help her with her job search, and She had trusted him like a brother. With another shove she raised her voice again, Though scared within her to scream loudly. Hoping he would not call her bluff.

Suddenly his senses returned, and he leaped off her frightened. She scrambled off, grabbed her bag and made for the door.

He tried to grab her again but she swung her bag at him so hard that he yelled in pain as it struck his face, letting her go.

Finally, free, she made it out of the door, She who runs away lives to fight another day. Someday she would tell her story, to people who really cared, she thought.

She hoped one day the world would understand, She feared that day may never come. But until then, she was and would always be a SURVIVOR.

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