The attack

They said I would forget. The attack. That I would live and let live,  forgive and forget. But I couldn’t. Forget. I found it within me to forgive him, because I knew his situation,i understood it. I wasn’t able to forget. Could not. Would not. It haunted my dreams,  plagued my sleep with fear.  It was almost as if hee was there, watching me with those eyed.  Burning flames of anger that pierced the darkness

It was our last day here, we were travelling back home. It was a good trip, as far as holidays go. The people were friendly and welcoming, the food tickled our taste buds,  the sun kissed our cheeks, the wind blew it’s sweet breath on us, the music flowed through our bodies and the culture embraced us with open arms. We were exhilarated. Melancholic to be leaving this wonderful country behind.

He had been standing at the edge of the railings of the stairs. I hadn’t noticed him at first. Then I felt a pickling sensation on my neck and turned self consciously around. His eyes had been boring into my skull, almost penetrating  it with that anger that lurked so close behind those eyes. I don’t remember anything else of his features.  Only those eyes. Eyes that burned with hatred and deepest loathing.

I thought something else had made him so angry and brushed it off. Perhaps I was just unfortunate enough to be within his range. I turned away from him and carried on walking. I didn’t notice him striding purposefully toward me.

A cry rang behind me and I whirled to locate the source. I had turned almost completely when a fist connected with my face. I had staggered under the impact of the blow.  It knocked me to the ground and blood spurted out of my nose, gushing deep red. My mind reeled from the blow, and my thought thoughts grew foggy and i could barely comprehend what was happening. He continued his assault and in my haze I heard him spit out words with each blow.

Kick. “Go”

Punch. “Back”

Kick. “To”

Punch. “Your”

Kick “count-”

Punch. “-try”.

He repeated it again and again, slamming his fists and feet into me each time. My eyes swelled up and I saw nothing else but two black pinpricks. His eyes. Brimming with uncontained rage, depths upon depths of loathing. They were the only things that I saw. As if his hatred for me formed a fog around me. That  hatred reflected into my eyes and all I saw was disgust. Where I had once seen hope, lights and love, I now saw despair, darkness and disgust. Hatred. Detest. For me.

They said I would forget. The attack. It’s funny now to think about it. I don’t remember what he looked like, only those eyes that burned with hate. They even have a name for such attacks.  Before I’d say it with pity and sympathy. For those poor people who had been subjected to such despicable things. Now I spit it out with bitterness, with sorrow. With fear. Everytime I think about that day I hear that word over and over and over and over and over.

Kick.” Zee”

Punch.”No”

Kick.”Foe”

Punch”Bee”

Kick”Yah”

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