Bad memories

Hearing those strange hissing and cackling sounds made her heart shrink. She couldn’t help but writhe in pain and disgust; she knew what was happening. The rooster was warning of a too-young hen. It could be heard for miles around. She couldn’t understand why no one was doing anything.

When you are told repeatedly that at a certain age, you should be paired up, experimenting, and growing up, you have no choice but to do it. Especially if it comes from your peers, for whom you would kill for nothing more than a drop of measly recognition. So when she got the chance, she was just grateful that someone else, for some unknown reason, decided to lay eyes on her.

It was clear to her that she didn’t want it anyway. She was also convinced that being alone was even more unpleasant. When putting things on a scale, continuing the relationship didn’t seem so horrible. Besides, she had some certainty that he loved her. How could she be sure of that? Well, he and everyone at school kept telling her that. It had to be true then. Not everyone is loved in a world of beauties and stunning intelligences, and apparently, she had to kick herself in the teeth that it was happening to her.

It disgusted her, at times, how he looked at her and groped her, but she assumed it was part of the experience. Eventually, she was going to like it, like the sushi or the beer she sometimes drank with her family. She still remembers her hands as hideous. Were they always this ugly? It would seem that events change over the years. The art director becomes more down to earth, the camera no longer focuses only on faces. The sound mix becomes more real and without the background music that softens the atmosphere. The romantic comedy becomes a documentary and certain things are no longer swallowed.

She no longer accepts being hugged so tightly, even if they see her in pain, or continuing after she has said: “stop”. She knows it’s not normal to feel embarrassed while crying without knowing why. She doesn’t pass up the repeated “I love you” as an excuse for every unpleasant situation.

She understands.

Understand why she let it go. After all, how is someone who loves you going to hurt you?

Today more than ever she feels compassion and pity for that little girl who thought maybe she was the one who was wrong.

The chickens are silent again. Maybe someone did something.