The Monster

In a world of monsters we live in, I sigh as I say to myself. But we can’t stop living in fear, can we?

There is an hour left till midnight, darkness prevails all around me. I can barely see the streets I am walking. For women darkness is never what scares us, but what stays hidden behind there does, the monsters. One might think I am speaking of what we have heard tales of but the women who have walked such dark streets alone would understand the monsters I am referring to. The monsters that women face in the light and in the night. The mud that caresses the end of my saree as I walk doesn’t disgust me the way the eyes that caresses my body does. It devours me when all I have ever wanted was to live free. As I move ahead, I can feel those eyes fixed on me without even looking. I look up and move my eyes around my heart skips a beat as I am proven right. A a vendor, a rickshaw puller and a few elderly men that are near the tea stall all looking at me with hunger in their eyes. The more I understand that the more my gut and the center of my throat feel heavy, my hands feel cold. I fasten my pace.

The rickshaw puller parks near me to ask me if I would want to go anywhere. A woman that ignores her gut pays high, so I refuse him and keep walking. A few feet away from me one streetlight is aggressively flickering at the end of the road the light of which I am depending on to walk myself home. Just as I sigh in relief walking that empty road, I hear sinister laughter breaking through the silence that sends a chill down my spine, my chest feels heavy. I gather all the courage I could possibly find in my body to lift my head up and look to my right where I sense is the source of the sound. A few boys in their early twenties, a few years younger than me, two of them forcing a 17-year-old girl inside their car and rest of them laughing in the mere sight of it.

As I lift my gaze, it meets the girl first, her eyes blinking softly as she’s trying her best to keep them open, barely standing still on her own legs, held by the arm by one of them, looking at me as one looks at the light at the end of a dark tunnel. I think to myself that after a dose of sedative she can see me clearly or just as an enlightened blurry figure at a distance. But does that matter!

In Bangladesh you can’t be a selfless hero if you are a woman even if you want to, as the price you pay to be one is costlier than your life. I look away remembering my mother’s words, to become a clever coward and save myself first. But it is already too late, after her my eyes meet the guy that is standing closest towards me. He stands out from rest of them because of his clothes, a black shirt and grey formal pants of a rather expensive material, long black hair slicked back, leaning back against his car with his arms crossed. His eyes shift from the girl to me, calm and fixed, scanning me up and down. He might be handsome enough to tempt any woman, yet not me, I recognize a devil when I see one. I look ahead and fasten my pace to walk myself away from here, he paces fast and stands in my way, grabs me by my shoulders. My heartbeat fastens enough for me to hear its thumping sound in my ears, and to feel it in the center of my throat.

‘You can’t just see that and walk right out, ma’am!’ he says to me. I feel his gaze on me, but I keep my eyes fixed on the ground.

‘I didn’t see anything.’ Keeping my eyes down when I try to walk away, I feel his fingers tighten and dig deep into my skin. Such strength at such a young age. I now look up straight at him. I assume he can feel my body shivering, thus the vicious smile.

‘Let’s assume you did not. There’s no harm in getting in my car, is it? I can take you for a drive and even drop you home?’

‘I can go on my own.’ I say to him, yet his smile does not waver.

‘My friend likes his fruit ripe.’ I hear one of them joke and laugh in the corner. They push the girl inside the car; I can feel it even when I don’t shift my gaze away. To survive God gave women the ability to see and hear from all directions so we can save ourselves. While holding me the boy tilts his head and gestures something behind me to someone. I stomp on his feet to break myself free, but it is too late, I feel a syringe pushed deep into my right arm. With all my strength I try to pace fast towards the light. I can feel no one behind me yet. They are still standing in their places.

‘I pushed the entire backup syringe in her, there is no way she can escape this street. Let her go, she’s not worth the trouble. I’m sure your father can handle rest of the cases like before.’

‘I know he can, but I don’t miss out on a good meal. Let me give her a headstart.’ He is still standing in his place with his hands on his waist.

I reach towards the light but by the time I do the light has died and there is nothing but darkness all around me. My head feels heavy as if someone hit me with a bat on the nape of my neck with all their strength, my vision and body is failing me. Holding onto the walls beside me I am walking with the bit of strength and will that is still left in me. I can feel their faint footsteps and voices behind me. But my body is giving up, I feel the dead end at the end of the alleyway within the two tall buildings I walked up to as I touch the wall in front of me. My legs give up on me, in the ground I sit down hugging my knees, curled up in the corner.

Is this the end! Being born a woman in Bangladesh makes us wish for death more than we ever wish for life as we die every day, but don’t we all as sacred creatures deserve to die with dignity! Yet most of us are not privileged enough to have that. I guess I am one of those unfortunate women, I guess I lose both today. I hear footsteps marching towards me of the monsters that come to feast on me. The rest of them stand back and that boy comes forward, on his knees he sits down, one hand gripped tight chocking me and the other clenched tight on the fabric of my saree that lay on my shoulder. My vision clears, I smile from ear to ear looking up straight at him, I feel his grip loosening from my neck. The bait worked. He looks at me with his jaw clenching in rage and slaps me hard once only to chock me again.

‘Why are you laughing? Stop laughing.’

I laugh loud enough for each of them to hear clearly, I can’t stop myself.

‘August 22nd, a month ago. You raped and murdered a 14-year-old girl and threw away her body in the barren land behind a graveyard, Rabea was her name. Promised her life away from abuse only to take it away from her.’ I laugh no more and look at him with disgust. Now he is the one smiling.

‘How can I forget her? The taste of her. She tasted like hopelessness and courage, such a naïve one. I left her to rot but moaning in agony she begged me to kill her; she told me with her dignity gone she’s already dead. I kept my promise. I shoved a fat bundle in her stepfather’s mouth to silence him forever. Who are you? Coming for her revenge yet sharing her destiny.’

I smile again. ‘I am her.’ I whisper to him softly and smile from ear to ear, my eyes turn red. I can see the fear in his eyes, can feel his heartbeat rising. I open my mouth, the skin, the muscles and tissue of my cheek split open, a huge tongue shoots out of it wrap around his neck. I raise him above the ground and stand up. I can see the fear in all their eyes. As they try to escape my hand and hair strands stretch long and raise them all above the ground. With all my strength I strangle them tight enough for all their heads to explode and tear apart from their bodies. I rid them off their sinful lives, rid the society of monsters that devoured many. I stand there drenched in blood and watch their heads and bodies drop to the ground. My body heals and goes back to how it was. Stepping over their bodies I walk out of the alleyway.

After he killed me, I woke up in a body 15 years older and wiser than mine with such powers and so many questions unanswered. I have killed 18 rapists till now and became the monster to get my revenge. I walk to the car to see one of the boys left behind lay unconscious on the ground. From the window I see her sitting with her hands crossed as I walk up to her over his body, she looks at me and smiles.

‘You have passed the test that others failed. It’s time to meet the one who made you into the monster that kills them all.’


(Dedicated to women that died protecting themselves or survived but are dead inside. )