Agniya woke up late. It was already dark, the quie
Author:unloginuser Time:2024/07/15 Read: 2124Agniya woke up late. It was already dark, the quiet hum of the TV could be heard in her parents’ room. After sleeping, she didn’t feel any more strong – it felt like she hadn’t slept at all, like she had always been awake, but not here.. Not in this reality. But the dream ended, and she didn’t want to fall asleep again, even though her body felt weak. Her parents seemed to be asleep, but she didn’t want to risk leaving the room – the possibility of running into her father didn’t please her. The girl quietly, trying not to creak the floor once again, got up and went to the window to breathe some air and look at the empty street. A sudden creak that came from the next room. The filly, still quietly, but quickly moved to bed. She prayed to herself that she imagined it, that she didn’t hear footsteps. Her prayers were not heard. Slow footsteps approached her room. The door creaked. Footsteps again. A shiver runs through her body and fear creeps into her head. The steps have slowed. A clear feeling that he is standing next to her. And so it is. Eyes closed, hooves tucked in. It is not clear what to do – they will just twitch terribly. Strange, disgusting, sticky sobs are heard. One thought: “When will this end?” Lucky that he did not touch her innocent body, if you can even call it luck. The bastard finishes his criminal act by leaving his daughter’s room. Disgusting. Sticky. If there was at least something in her stomach – the filly would have vomited. Tears mixed with the dirt left by him after the fall. The sweet angel shed tears for his sins, asking God for help, but he seemed to have gone deaf long ago. He did not want to open his eyes, she was still afraid to move even a little from the spot. All that was left was to wait for the morning, trying to somehow fall asleep, suppressing the intrusive thoughts that gnawed at me with a sense of guilt, making me cry more and more and feel endless pain for someone else’s actions, not allowing me to fall asleep and forget.
Agniya woke with a jolt. It was dark, the hushed hum of the television emanating from her parents’ room. The sleep had done nothing to refresh her; it felt as though she had never slept at all, as if she’d been awake, but not here, not in this reality. The dream lingered, a heavy weight on her chest. She didn’t want to fall back asleep, not yet. Her body felt weak, exhausted, but the dream was a prison she couldn’t escape.
Her parents, seemingly asleep, were a source of unease. She didn’t dare leave the room, the possibility of encountering her father, of having to navigate his presence, was unbearable. Agniya, silent and cautious, crept out of bed. She tiptoed towards the window, yearning for air, for the quiet solace of the empty street.
A sudden creak from the next room startled her. She froze, heart pounding in her chest. It was like a whisper of danger, a premonition. Instinctively, she retreated to her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, her body trembling. She prayed, a silent plea, that she had imagined it, that the creak had been a trick of her mind, a phantom sound.
Her prayers went unanswered. Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed towards her room. The door creaked open, a grating sound that scraped against her nerves. More footsteps, each one a hammer blow to her already shattered heart. A shiver ran down her spine, fear constricting her throat. The steps slowed, halting right outside her bed. She could feel his presence, the weight of him pressing against her.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, her body rigid, unable to move. The shame, the horror of it all, was a physical presence, a weight she could barely bear. She wanted to disappear, to vanish into thin air, to be anywhere but here, trapped in this nightmare.
Strange, strangled sobs escaped her lips, a choked symphony of pain and despair. All she could think was, “When will this end?” A part of her was grateful, a warped sense of relief, that he hadn’t touched her physically, but the violation was still there, a festering wound in her soul. He finished his act, his disgusting, criminal act, and left her room.
A wave of nausea washed over Agniya. She wanted to vomit, to expel the filth, the horror, but there was nothing left in her stomach but emptiness. Tears, thick and salty, mingled with the residue of his presence, a bitter reminder of his violation. She was a sweet angel, a child, and he, a monster, had defiled her innocence. She cried out to God, a silent, desperate plea for help, but the heavens were deaf, silent, indifferent.
Agniya couldn’t bear to open her eyes. The fear was a paralyzing force, locking her in place. She lay there, waiting for the dawn, hoping, praying, for the sun to rise and bring with it some semblance of peace. She tried to sleep, to escape the torment of her thoughts, but guilt gnawed at her, a relentless, cruel echo of the pain she had endured. The sorrow was an endless well, deepening with each passing moment, fueled by the actions of another, a burden she could not escape. She lay there, drowning in her grief, the darkness pressing in around her, the dawn feeling impossibly far away.
