Writing as Anika: 04. Masquerade

I didn’t want to tell them. Well, I wanted to tell someone. But who do I tell, what do I tell? I’m still successful in recalling nothing, it helps. I try to eat something, for the umpteenth time today, but I can’t. My body is rejecting the food – my body is rejecting life. I…

Writing as Anika: 03.Crimson tears.

Its better now, I get little sleep. By little sleep I mean I fall asleep roughly every 36 hours, for half an hour. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. Its happening all over again. That’s when I wake up, cold sweats and no breath; just like that  i’m broken all over again. I used to…

Writing as Anika: 02.Blur

Which day is it? I forget. Everything is a blur. I walk aimlessly, end up in the balcony – as always, a cigarette ashing in my hand. Is it morning? Is it night? Hard to tell, I haven’t slept in weeks. I’ve been up for two sunrises and two sunsets now. Sleep is not an…

Writing as Anika – 01. Darkness.

Writing as Anika – a series of first person narratives putting post rape trauma in to perspective. Did I not scream loud enough? I don’t know, I don’t remember. I can’t, I can’t remember, I can’t think. I reach for the scrub – pouring it all over myself. I hate my body, I do. It…

Thank you Twenty-two

    Twenty-two taught me that its okay to feel. Twenty-two taught me that sometimes you get hurt. And its okay. Pain doesn’t care about your walls, pain demands the attention it requires. Sooner or later, you will have to stop running away from them, sit and have a conversations with the ghosts that haunt the hallways…