Another day has crept by, and the clarity of the flashbacks have become more and more vague. But here and there, you get the ocassional brush of the shoulder with a stranger or the sight of a police station that opens the floodgates on those memories. That very incident that happened so quickly, but had such deep repurcussions.
I've found a slight fear of the night. The darkness has this devoring power, and like a tsunami wave hot on my heels, I find myself running to avoid it. I love what I'm doing right now. Sitting by the window in the lounge of my hostel, protected by glass from the outside.
This experience made me treasure life more. No doubt about it. If I had really been strangled to death, what would I have to say to my parents? Could I, in the first place? It would have been the most irresponsible thing to do, to have just left without a word. When I re-opened my eyes that fateful evening, lying on the crossroads dotted with curious but selfish on-lookers, the most immediate reaction was panic. My haversack. Everything. Everything was gone. Nothing to return to the States with. Everything around me seemed to be moving at its usual pace, unfazed by this foreign thing spinning round and round to find some kind of footing.
As my circulation and breathing returned to normal, I ran. One road led to two. Then it kept multiplying like a viral bug. To cover every track that the thieves might have gone would necessitate that I break myself into a thousand pieces. It did not help that there were two of them. But only one of me to find them.
My throat was hurting from the strong forearm that had wrung around my neck. My tongue was burning from simply biting it too hard. That instant when I realised that I was getting no air, and flailing my arms helplessly to passers-by and getting nothing in response, was probably the most desperate I have ever felt in my life. I mean, I've always been an independent person, but there was no way, no secret weapon or some other route or strategy I could have used to get away from that strangulation.
There's no lesson harder than when you are punished severely for it. I'm not suggesting that everyone should be robbed once to learn something from it, but it would be something that I will never forget. If mum and dad are reading this, I just want to say that I love you so much, too much to want to make you worry for me. I give thanks again, that I am alive.
I AM SAFE and READY TO MOVE ON.
I've found a slight fear of the night. The darkness has this devoring power, and like a tsunami wave hot on my heels, I find myself running to avoid it. I love what I'm doing right now. Sitting by the window in the lounge of my hostel, protected by glass from the outside.
This experience made me treasure life more. No doubt about it. If I had really been strangled to death, what would I have to say to my parents? Could I, in the first place? It would have been the most irresponsible thing to do, to have just left without a word. When I re-opened my eyes that fateful evening, lying on the crossroads dotted with curious but selfish on-lookers, the most immediate reaction was panic. My haversack. Everything. Everything was gone. Nothing to return to the States with. Everything around me seemed to be moving at its usual pace, unfazed by this foreign thing spinning round and round to find some kind of footing.
As my circulation and breathing returned to normal, I ran. One road led to two. Then it kept multiplying like a viral bug. To cover every track that the thieves might have gone would necessitate that I break myself into a thousand pieces. It did not help that there were two of them. But only one of me to find them.
My throat was hurting from the strong forearm that had wrung around my neck. My tongue was burning from simply biting it too hard. That instant when I realised that I was getting no air, and flailing my arms helplessly to passers-by and getting nothing in response, was probably the most desperate I have ever felt in my life. I mean, I've always been an independent person, but there was no way, no secret weapon or some other route or strategy I could have used to get away from that strangulation.
There's no lesson harder than when you are punished severely for it. I'm not suggesting that everyone should be robbed once to learn something from it, but it would be something that I will never forget. If mum and dad are reading this, I just want to say that I love you so much, too much to want to make you worry for me. I give thanks again, that I am alive.
I AM SAFE and READY TO MOVE ON.