The girl in front of me said, “I felt triggered after watching that movie.”
She was wearing a grey hijab. Her almond eyes and plump lips caught my attention. On her wrist, which was holding the transparent tea glass with amber-colored liquid in it, was a silver bracelet that seemed like a hybrid of silver bangle and thin chained cuff bracelet.
“What triggered you?” I said as I leaned closer to her.
My heart sank as soon as she began to speak.
From the glass wall next to us, I peered outdoors. There were water spots on the glass wall. Two men were seated on the bench outside. The first guy, who had curly hair that reached his shoulders, was playing the ukulele while his companion was gazing up at the sky. At one in the morning, the café seemed lonely. Along with the café staff, it was me, and my friend. I soon detected a shadow moving close to us. I noticed a man with a laptop when I looked up. He took a seat at the table next to ours.
“I was scared, I said no” My friend whispered
“Men do not understand that no means no.. right?” I questioned her while laughing sourly.
“aaa..” I interrupted her in the middle of what she was saying. I said in a robotic voice, “When you talk about saying no or talk about consent they say dialogue mat maaro.”
We fall silent as soon as I finish speaking. I took another look at my cup below.
I raised my head to meet warm, friendly eyes. Her eyes begged me to tell her my most gruesome stories.
“I was at my friend’s house, blissfully drunk and dozing off. I became aware of hands grabbing into questionable areas of my body. The words “please turn around” are spoken by a man in my ear. The voice sounded recognizable. “ I said. I halted as horror gripped me. I immediately bit into the omelet bun that came on my platter. My heart felt secure once more as I turned to face the warm eyes.
“I said no. I told him I didn’t want it” I told her.
“He put my hand on his junk and whispered to me ‘You are gonna leave me like this, don’t you know it hurts?’” I mimicked him word by word. I catch a glimpse of the person sitting next to us out of the corner of my eye. His head swung gently in our direction.
“Please go on” she begged.
“My palm touching his junk was burning as if I held hot burning coal. Anger was running through my veins along with alcohol.” I leaned in and whispered “You have no clue all the gruesome acts that I wanted to commit at that moment”
I took another peek outside as I slumped in my chair. Raindrops from earlier in the evening were still clinging to the glass wall.
“Slowly, the truth became apparent. In the middle of the night, in a strange location, I was drunk. Fear gradually emerged. I questioned whether I would survive that night unharmed and with my sanity and virtue intact. That night, I prayed to every god or whichever one was paying attention. I prayed to God to help me learn this man’s language. In his language, I wanted to tell him no. My no became a yes, and my resistance became my consent because perhaps my tongue seemed foreign to him.” I said.
“I turned around and let him lean in,” I continued. “Allowed him to taste my lips, perhaps the bitterness on my tongue might cool his flame.“
My thoughts resurfaced gradually to that evening. The same fear that I felt that night consumed my thoughts and my heart.
“Did we consent to it?” was a question my mind posed to me once more, as it does hundreds of times per day.
“You know I was not baring even an inch of skin. I wore a high-neck T-shirt. My ankles were covered with jeans. I was covering all of my skin. Throughout the party, I avoided making eye contact with him, talking to him, or even touching him. I continue to wonder what exactly I did to make him think that I desired it. My scorching palm grew numb gradually. My lower body, chest, and eventually my head started to feel numb. I guess numb with terror.” I glanced at my friend as I drank the last bit of the tea in the cup.
“I pleaded with him not to touch me and once more said no. I pleaded him to go away.” I said without making any eye contact.
The remaining part of the story remained unsaid.
“The next morning, I told my friend what his friend had done the night before. He did not react. That made me very sad. He was behaving casually yet last night he had promised to ensure my safety.” I admitted.
“It was only a kiss, right? It was just first base, right? You must have given your consent,” I recalled my friend saying.
I ended the terrible tale with a bitter laugh on my lips and rage in my heart with some final words “You know my friend called me later in the evening and said ‘Do you think he took advantage of you? Are you sure you did not consent to any of it?’”
I felt hollow as I stared down at my empty cup. I felt unclean. Exorcism was what I felt I needed. I was a sinner waiting for my sentence to the seven circles of hell.
“You never gave your consent,” my friend said.
My self-imposed prison, which I had been in for months, was broken open by her word.
The la la land times 