JASMINE’S SECRET
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The girl came awake with a jolt, eyes staring out into the inky darkness. She saw nothing. Her heart thudded hard against her ribcage. Heavy beads of cold sweat trickled down her body onto the already soaked sheets twisted around her limbs -a consequence of her thrashing.
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Night after night, the nightmare plagued the girl’s sleep. In it, The Man with the distorted face would be chasing a much younger version of herself across a vast open field, that stretched on and on with no end in sight. A blend of colours swished past as she sprinted away. Red, green, brown, and purple. The sweet scent of wet grass and the heady perfume of flowers blew with the wind that whipped past her face. Still, the girl ran. Stopping to admire the beauty around her was not an option.
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In time, she would stumble and fall, bruising her knees. Before she can gather the strength to rise, The Man would reach her and bear down on her, with an evil smile on his disfigured lips. He would pin her down with his huge form and allow his arms to roam free. The Man would perpetuate all sorts of vile things to her just budding figure- leaving no curve untouched. No crevice untainted.
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Weakened by her struggles, the girl would go limp underneath him. She had no one to help her. No one to save her. Only her tears remained. The tears from deep within her bruised soul became the tears in her eyes. Streaming down her face like all her agony and shame had been condensed into a flood of rain. These tears would rake her body, causing her to shudder and wheeze and shiver uncontrollably.
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Yet she would find no comfort… save these tears and oh, did she shed them!
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The Man would then whisper into her ears, his tepid breath fanning her cheeks:
“Don’t worry, pretty flower. This will be our little secret.”
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Like clockwork, the girl would wake at this point.
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Without fail.
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©Hafsah bint Nurein
