Night of Horror
I am a Cambodian/Lao, but have lived in Cincinnati all of my life. I'm still a staunch Buddhist, and as a Buddhist, I believe in Polytheism(Believing in many Gods). Because of this, we also believe there are many ghosts and spirits of various kinds.
One night in bed, I tossed and turned until I perspired quite a bit, so I sat up and took a deep breath. My hands felt the damp bed sheet and I realized then that if I didn't change to a new one, I would never get any sleep. Even as I pulled the bed sheet off from the mattress, I was dripping with perspiration. I wondered why that night was so hot. Nothing was amiss; my heater was turned off and I had the windows open.
I lay back down on the new, fresh smelling bed sheet and stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly, a soft wind blew, and I thanked the heavens for it and closed my eyes.
Not too long in my dark and serene night, then something blew into my ear. My eyes popped open, and to my horror, I saw a man lying on top of me.
The scream in me wouldn't leave my throat. It accumulated just inside my mouth and wouldn't leave it. Even my arms wouldn't leave the mattress. By god, I tried. I tried hard, very hard.
My eyes bulged in horror when I felt the man's hand go down the side of my waist. His hand moved and slid with such dexterity that he was at my inner thigh with ease. He pulled at my thigh and parted my lifeless leg as I lay helpless and terror-struck. All I could do was to pray, and pray I did. But even my prayers didn't help. Soon, my worst fear became reality. I felt a sharp, stinging pain as he ravaged my innocence.
Why did you leave the window open, you stupid woman! I cursed myself.
I could only hope he wouldn't kill me afterwards. I remember telling him I wouldn't tell anyone, just don't hurt me. Then he replied something in Lao, but strangely, I didn't understand a word.
I was lucky; he finished and went away without a scratch on me. As moments passed, the trauma seemed to fleet away into a dream state.
Was is all a dream, a bad dream? I thought to myself as I sat at the edge of my bed. I rushed to the toilet and checked if I really was violated. There was no sign of anything to indicate I was. I was relieved. It had been a bad dream.
A few nights went by without a dream, and I had forgotten about the big Laotian man. But then one night, I felt a presence by my bed. The memory of the rape, which had been relegated to the dark depths in my mind, returned in a flash. I knew the presence was he, and I knew he was going to have his way with me again. I shut my eyes and began to pray, but it didn't help.
I felt a soft wet stroke at my ear. My skin began to tremble with his every touch. What he was doing was evil and wrong yet it felt so good. I knew I shouldn't be enjoying it, but it was hard to fight the pleasure of his tongue sliding up and down my ear.
I have to fight this. I have to fight this immoral act. He is evil, evil incarnate, I chanted in my head.
Since he had immobilized me, the only way to fight back was to plead for him to stop. So, I cried and begged for him to stop. He moaned in a satisfied manner instead. He wanted me to whine, he liked it, it turned him on. I knew it too, so I stopped. I thought I may as well just let him have his way. On my part, I would just numb my senses to his touch by chanting prayers. Then, the sharp and stinging pain came. It drove me insane with pleasure.
It is wrong! I can't enjoy this! I must fight this! I screamed internally.
With every gentle thrust, he was winning in bringing my mind back to the immoral act. I was losing. My prayers wasn't helping me. Why? Why does it feel sooo gooood? I lost myself and allowed him to take me to places I never thought existed right here in my own body. It was truly heavenly hell.
Again, it felt like a dream. I rushed to the bathroom and checked. Nothing. Then, as I stood in front of the mirror, I noticed a dark red spot at the side of my neck. A love bite!
I had to endure him for some weeks, waking up at times with bruises on my inner thighs, love bites on my chest, and even finger marks over various parts of my body. I was resigned to the fact that I had no defenses against him, so I accepted my fate.
Then, one night, I happened to sleep with my baby son. I hugged him close and kissed him as we lay down to sleep. Before long, I felt a hand pull me away from my baby. I was paralyses as usual, but I still could feel the sensation of his touch. This time he did something different; he pushed me down to between his hips and pressed my head down. I looked up and asked him why he was doing this to me.
He replied with a jarring, coarse voice, “Your deceased aunt sent me to punish you.”
Hearing that angered me so much that I somehow managed to pull away from him, and in doing so, I woke up. My panties had been pulled down to my thighs and my baby son was close to the edge of the bed, about to fall over.
I don't know why my dead aunt wants to punish me, and I guess I will never find out. The only way to get away from her vile curse was to move out of my apartment, so I did. I live with my boyfriend now, and thankfully, I do not have the dreams anymore.
I've never told anyone about this, not even my boyfriend. Writing this story to you anonymously helps me at least to offload this very disturbing trauma I've had to endure alone up until now.
Thank you, eerietales.
Anonymous, USA Cincinnati .