By Andrea Marchon
Rasha, a young woman who epitomized beauty inside and out, now wounded, sore,traumatized and devastated, made her way staggering down a cobbled pathway. The heat blazing against her lifeless abused body.
Where was she going? She wondered too. Was there a place where in she could take refuge? Parched, tired, full of grime and sweat she edged forward dragging herself to what seemed like an Oasis …
An Oasis for others … Alas a mirage for her.
Brain dead, misty eyed, tears flowing … she quenched her thirst, she moved on slowly, finding great difficulty in comprehending what she saw or where she was heading. This was her present.
The past was a far cry from her “NOW”.
The yester years were filled with the promise of a sweet fragrant life to come. The past week saw her as her usual happy, bubbly and beautiful self. Totally adorable, her childlike innocence, her sheltered life, her selfless nature, her maturity; all made her endearing and unique. All the laughter and joy … excited tones…resounded in her ears …. There were smiles all over.
A celebration in the family; the wedding of her older sister. Her most loved, her anchor, her shield, her confidante and her everything since the passing of their mother. A financially comfortable middle class clan where the sanctity of home, family, love & marriage ruled the roost. But who was to dream, that dream that would maim an innocent flower?
With all the merry making and profound happiness around there was a dark unexpected guest called “LUST” lurking at the door and NO! It did not knock…. It banged “HARD” …real hard.
Yes! The Groom took a fancy to Rasha and so did his two other brothers, his father, and two of his uncles.
She was their prey, waiting in queue like scavengers waiting their turn to devour their hunger.
She lay lifeless while they ripped her apart, mauled her, burnt her with cigars. Complete sadists; they robbed her Soul.
The physical pain being bad enough, the pain of deceit and betrayal that was bestowed upon her by her sacred world; her world being her loving family or so she thought, was much worse to cope with.
Her ” SHIELD”, her ” CONFIDANTE”, her ” EVERYTHING ” Yes! Her most loved sister fixed her match. Her baby sister was the ransom, her “DOWRY” to her new family.
“We want nothing” they said, “We only want your sister”.
Half naked, blistered feet, every aching inch, she moved on. The so called Oasis, the Mirage was a Pleasure House, a Brothel. That was her Reconciliation with her fate. The Tears flowed … but will they ever really stop?