~Dear women, It's your fault~
A bus stop and a pretty you. You were waiting for a bus. Unaware of the surrounding you stood, chatting with your friends on your phone to pass your time. Suddenly, you felt something, something very uneasy! You turned around and saw something disturbing.
A boy in his teenage was staring at your curves. But that was not disturbing! People around were pretty much familiar with what was happening but no one stood up for you. You tried to calm yourself but you couldn't.
The very next moment, you slapped him up. His mother argued back, defending him and blaming your short dress. It was your dress who was compelling him to stare. Thus, it was your fault.
~Dear women, It's your fault~
You were in your teenage. You were an adolescent, growing into a beautiful woman. You loved to smile. You loved to wear new trendy clothes. You wanted to look good. That's no fault, right? No! Not at all. One day, an uncle visited. He was very close to you in your childhood. You loved him. He started to get attracted towards you. His touches were no longer comfortable. His eyes now searched a way to your cleavage. His hands now wanted to touch your ass. You told your mother but it was funny for her.She advised you to stop making stories. …show more content…
You didn't have the guts to talk to your father about his characterless brother. You kept quite. The pain remained in your heart and so was the silence.
It was your fault that you were beautiful and not his!
~Dear women, It's your fault~
You liked merriment. You liked to party. You were one of those who believed to live in the present. You went to a party. You got drunk and so were the others. Everyone was dancing, moving their feet with the beats.
After some time, you found a few boys trying to touch you. Firstly you ignored thinking that was accidental. But later, it was becoming more frequent and demanding. They pulled you out of the party. No one else was bothered about you. They took you to their car..
Throwing you inside, they fucked you one after the other. You kept on screaming for help but no one did. You were officially getting Raped!
Next day, it was the top breaking news. Debates took place on you. You were famous within a night. In such debates, many questioned your character and told it was not rape and you agreed to get fucked by a group of people because you were drunk. Your criminals won the case. You were tagged as Slut by some, whore by the others. You died. It was your fault that you were drunk. Being a girl, you have no freedom to drink even if the law allows you. If you are drunk, it is not rape. It is sex. ~Dear women, It's your fault~ You fell in love with a boy. He meant everything to you. You gave him everything you had. Everything was going smooth. You never questioned his deeds. You trusted him. One day, you saw him with another girl in a pub. They were smooching. Your heart was being dissected into a million pieces. Emotions took