As she lay on the hospital bed, the sounds of family crying and doctors diagnosing burned in her ears. She tried to breathe steadily and float away. Tears rolled down her bloody cheeks as she laid her head to the right, and watched the people scurry around her. There was such emptiness inside her; when he withdrew from her body, he took her soul with him. They poked, and prodded at her most tender places that she no longer felt anything, good or bad. Her body forgot how to feel sexual pleasure, and with it stole all emotions of violation, and pride. She’d found that place of nothing, when her stomach feels ill, and her throat as if a telephone cord was wrapped tightly around it. Where her legs shudder, and her left eye twitches, and she no longer needs to be consoled for this tragedy she had already detached herself from.
The struggle upon arriving at the hospital was cruel and unfair. What could they expect? A young woman violently raped and beaten, exposed and humiliated, rushed into a hospital to have more people view, take samples and analyze her pain. But they have to, or they will never know who he was, and her words aren’t good enough to prove it. As if afterwards all she could do is think of some man she swore revenge on and thought this would be a way to finally give him what he deserves… because she too deserved this.
The fact of the matter was when he grabbed her, she didn’t scream. When he dragged her down a dingy alley and wrapped a telephone cord around her throat, she forgot to scream, and when he removed her clothing and penetrated her in a way only a rapist could, she still forgot to scream. As he kissed her, she had shed a tear. Upon his climax, she shed several more. And only when he removed himself, and punched her in the face did she remember what she had been taught as a child should something such as this ever happen, and then she had screamed. She never begged for her life between fists to the face and stomach. She never prayed for mercy as he kicked her on the ground. Maybe she forgot, and all she could do was scream. And the opportunist walked away, and left her to scream, because he knew perfectly well there wasn’t a soul around to hear her.
And when she can convince the pain and terror to stop running through her mind, she can only think to herself that maybe she ought to have begged, and prayed. Maybe if she had screamed louder, or earlier. She should have fought back, and that is why this happened to her, because she was weak and couldn’t fight back.

And God must have lost a poker game to the Devil and was forced to sell her life and weaknesses to him so this man that raped her knew that she wouldn’t scream, she wouldn’t fight, and she wouldn’t beg or pray.