Revolting! She turns away from the mirror and opens the shower taps. She steps in and starts washing… scrubbing. She starts with her little toes and works her way up. She works with a vengeance until her whole body is red and tender. And still the filth clings to her, oozes from every pore of her body, from the very centre of her being.
She dresses herself in the grey formless flannel pajamas, closes the curtains and carefully locks the door to her room. When she gets into bed, she leaves the light on. She has always hated the dark of night. After seemingly endless hours of tossing around, she finally falls asleep.
He comes to her in the middle of the night, slips into her bed. He starts touching, caressing and then threatening her. Her body goes numb. The smell of Old Spice suffocates her. She feels the nausea through the waves of pain. Then he is gone. She gets up to wash herself. There is blood everywhere. She screams… and screams… and screams. She awakes with a shock, her heart pounding and palms sweating. Even after all these years he still haunts her, possesses her.
She only turns of the light when her room is filled with daylight. She gets up and automatically glances at her bed linen, already feeling the humiliation of stained evidence. The feeling spreads through her body and her anxiety grows. Suddenly she is twelve years old and sitting in the classroom. She feels the wet warmth running down her legs into a pool underneath her chair. She sees the eyes, hears the laughs, feels the contempt. They know… they know… they know…
She carefully makes her bed, decides to shower again, tries to wash away the dreams, the memories, and the thoughts. She dresses herself in the oversized men’s jeans and shirt. Her hair is so short that she can barely brush them. She looks at herself in the mirror, a strange sexless being… an alien.
The street is busy. She always walks to her office, thinking that he would not be able to find her in the crowd. She is careful though, all the time watching… searching… looking around. She sees a movement and dashes into the nearest shop. It is not him and she leaves the shop, embarrassed by her irrational behavior.
Her desk is in the furthest corner of the office. She sits with her back to the wall with a clear view over the room – never to be caught unawares. Her relationship with fellow workers is strained. She is always hiding, behind her clothes, behind her desk, behind downcast eyes – afraid that they would see the damage, recognize the truth, scared that they might discover her secret.
The day is endless and taxing. There is a heaviness in her body. She feels old and beaten and worthless… always tired… always the loser… the failure. In a flash she is back in the court room. “Not Guilty”. The words echo through her being. He turns around with a nasty little smile on his face. “I told you no one would believe you. See, it is all you fault”.
She walks home. She unlocks the door. She wills her body to move into her room. Is it her fault? What is wrong with her? She pours herself a drink. She walks into the bathroom. She takes the blade. She starts carving… bad… bad… bad…. It is only when she sees the blood that she feels the relieve. She rests her head against the wall and waits for the circle to start all over again… and again… and again.
In South Africa today security plays a vital part in any business or private home. This book and the volumes to follow, will guide you step by step through the essential precautionary measures to be taken in protecting your family and valuables. From employing security guards, evacuation of your site and security measures to burglar bars and alarms in your private home.
a Book compiled by me from experience gained after 10 years in the security industry as Industrial relations officer with Nosa qualifications, 1st Aid, fire protection and also S.O.B. grade A.
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