ROSE and ROSES NIZAR MERSNI November 2018 ROSE and ROSES Nothing was justified, nothing was vindicated… She was there in her own, imprisoned between four limiting walls. The sound of silence around her was chilling and frightening, in every way possible. The air was humid and smelt of storms. The room was entirely dark and murky, where the lingering light was obliterated by the rapidly demolishing darkness, where all life died, death lived and nature bred. It was seen as the place where dreams, beauty and even happiness get wasted by a mysterious engine that seems to have been designed to murder possibilities.
She sat in front of a small mirror and began sobbing uncontrollably. She seemed to be trapped on a mental ward; her breathing soonly increased and became gasps of breath. It was like being stuck between two realities, walking through an inevitable labyrinth of fear and worry. It was a grey moment that carpeted the sky, as if she was surrounded by an ominous tumultuous cloud; she was completely obscured.
A dream started: It was as if god had adjusted the colours of the world of that horrific night. Everything, every little item in her vision was somehow brighter than it should be. How could she call it: a nightmare, a horrendous reverie or just a gruesome daydream? It was cold, colder than usual. She could feel a draft on her face and smell something that reminded her of a dark wintry night.
A ghastly feeling of being watched by invisible eyes prolonged a sort of disquiet and fretfulness. She flew through a gateway to a diabolic wonderland of alienation, a world that encompasses the whole situation. She saw a giant shapeless shadow coming into her bed, a creepy sinister giant man: it seemed like a man but she was not able to recognize that silhouette. His disdainful look was mixed with envy and strong desire at the same time. He was the demon who possessed her soul.
She woke up in a dark dingy room like a jet black colour. The never ending blackness and dreadful sensations seemed to consume everything around her. The only thing she could hear was the trees creaking and groaning and her heart pounding; her heart pounded against her chest like the rumbling of thunder. She was like a moth fluttering against a hot light. There was a rag tied around her mouth and her hands were duct taped, her eyes got heavier and heavier as if she was having a faint headache from an intake of chloroform.
” what is your name darling” he sinisterly whispered in her ear. It gave her shivers and no answer was given. He asked again and again but in vain. He removed the rag from her mouth “if you scream I will hurt you”. She did that, screaming, shouting, yelling… “Oh help, let me go please”, no one was there to hear as if she was in an isolated island.
“Stop it, just stop it please!” she wailed, but he wouldn’t. “Calm yourself sweetheart, let’s loose dear, don’t be too tense” he taunted with a husky voice that chuckled in her ear. Her soft voice was music to his ears. He looked at her with sly eyes; his forehead creased and his mouth flopped open. He started to kiss down her neck and left hickeys.
He twisted her arm backwards and viciously laid her on the mattress. Darkness became stronger, it was the beginning, it was the beginning of a final ending. ” I will be gentle darling” whispered he with a curious lecherous expression that contorted his mouth. A long tear ran down her innocent face, she was usurped and sadistically invaded by a stranger. Her virginity stripped from her… He stopped for a minute to catch up his breath, and then he proceeded to violently shove his tongue in her mouth as his hands were freely roaming over her shivering body that was beaten, raped, snatched from lips to buttocks, as a hungry man would snatch a piece of meat. A moment of silence imposed itself.
She was shuddering like an autumn leaf that makes its final dance to mother earth. She was too weak to fight him, to protect herself even in that abysmal dream that came true. As much as she tried to hold it in, biting her tongue, trying to hold the tears that threatened to leave her eyes, the pain came out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream. A single tear slid down from her warm, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, she burst into a steady flood of salty mascara-tinted tears, spilling down her face, releasing an excruciating grief.
The whole time she was thinking “why me?” She got increasingly uncomfortable, horrified and in a way she got alarmed of something petrifying that would change her life. She witnessed a huge state of affliction and dismay mingled with his own obdurate pride and hate. He vigorously plunged into her invading the sovereign of her own body. What an ineffable horror that left a hot coal in her chest on fire with dread, dolefulness, and shame! She could feel the blood sweeping down her leg. Her cheeks blotched from tears and pain.
The dream actually started, she knew from this moment that nothing will be the same. She felt totally humiliated, powerless, and abused. Lying down on her bed, eyes closed and blood flowing freely. No light, but rather discernible darkness that served only to uncover her sights of anguish and woe in this dire calamity. She couldn’t even decipher the mixture of feelings that erupted in her like a ferocious volcano; she was like being burned alive, she felt the pain of losing life.
She was scared. It was like walking around, blind, in a dark, damp scary tunnel. She was like a star falling from heaven and being given the key to the abyss where a bottomless pit was opened with a great smoke of furnace. That was the greatest pain and soreness she has ever experienced.
Was she able to measure that moment? Was she able to overcome such an agony? She has endured torture and suffering, she was emotionally done, mentally drained, and spiritually dead. It seems that Rose was picked up and her petals did fall down; she was emaciated and shriveled after surrendering. Anyone could literally see that she accepted her body violation by a stranger with no resistance; unfortunately, she escaped and fled into her subconscious at that moment. That trauma blinded her eyes, and numbed her senses; she could neither see nor hear or even speak. She would unconsciously stand, in another world of her imagination and innocent fantasy, swirling in a deep chaotic silence letting whatever was happening happen, feeling numb and so empty inside.
She could not think that there is even one ray of hope with which she desperately can take an action back. She wanted to build the toughest walls around her, wandering in silence. She could not move, sitting in one place, fire burning inside but she was immunized or at least she presumed to be so. She didn’t want her body anymore; she was even terrified of it. To some extent, she wanted to take off her body that was seen as an overwhelming testimony of that devastating incident.
A massive boom echoed and shook her own internal world, whole world of Rose turned into a blur; the smell, the taste, and everything was gone at that moment. The last painful emotion slammed against her before she lost the feeling of feeling. Rose, that was her name. He was satisfied and finished with her. Five minutes of instinctive satisfaction for him and a whole life broken for her. He saw her brokenness; he seemed to take hold of a very profound understanding of her.
He took away her worth, her privacy, her energy, her intimacy, her confidence, and even her own voice. She tried to grasp the meaning of the world of that day using a language created to express that world of yesterday. She mentally left each location, each corner of that room before she physically left it. She suddenly realized that her most private thoughts and emotions were not actually her own.
She couldn’t make anyone understand what was happening inside her. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. Her glory and happy state of life swallowed up in an endless misery. Her life transmutes into an infernal world of despair and wretchedness. Would it ever be possible to capture the pain, the animal intensity of such cruelty? At every little moment she was aware but insentient about those two different but similar incidents.
Rose was the only one to bear the brunt of that traumatic ordeal. Life and death were under the same roof of her mind. She was completely wounded, looking for some light to enter and enlighten her internal being; she needed to look again to that mirror and find neither illness nor emptiness, just trust and order. She knew exactly where her cracks are and how deep they run. What was once shrouded in darkness swiftly became clear and unmistakable.
Would she swallow a handful of piles to end her misery? Would she try to shoot herself? Would she turn whoever looked upon her face to stone; would she turn into a snake-haired Gorgon like Medusa who was raped by Poseidon in the temple of Athena? Was she able to hold some overwhelming suicidal thoughts? Was she obliged to avenge and take vengeance against her rapist? How long would it take to begin healing or to look for a new horizon? She did not think for a while that she needed to be in the same rank of nastiness, viciousness, and brutality as him. She was aware that there was no real justice behind planning an ideal scenario of revenge. She suddenly realized that her life was a short walk among the tombstones. She was even able to apprehend that the damage was done; she was not afraid of humans, but of what is inhuman in them.
As the days wane, the nights close in; Rose wanted to face her own story of psychic prison and haunting, about monstrosity and death, with a rambunctious joy, to soothe in the most beautiful way despite all, to be shining through a thin layer of grey cloud. It was the strangest but the strongest moment out of her mind. She decided to enjoy the Roses that are blooming outside her internal zone, to dream of some magical rose garden over the horizon replete with all the beauties of nature held in perfection. She wanted the mirror to become the emblem of her beauty and purity. She was completely sure where exactly to start. She wanted to overcome that internal split, to be recognized as a survivor, neither by community nor by family, but by herself.
She showed a sort of exceptional resilience and finally decided to only see the half full part of the glass and not the empty one. Rose made a gateway to rebirth, to renewal, and to meet the other Roses that have enriched her heart. She was ready for the spring to come after the wintry turmoil. She was not broken anymore, she was stronger, she was able to change her world with all those twists and turns. When the twilight of that day faded to darkness, she unexpectedly could see millions of bright stars dotted on the black canvas of night, shinning like a million fireflies.
Angels residing within her created a sort of fire that lighted inside her guts burning what could make her life an old fashioned photograph and her soul a shade of grey. WAS IT ABNORMAL? With every breath, she sprinkled her life with moments of exuberance that came from an indomitable will. She became in love with her life. For the first time, she began to breathe and simply live in the moment Again, nothing was justified, nothing was vindicated…