The Dawning

This is a tribute to anyone who has experienced that moment you wake up and understand that it’s the “morning after the night before”.

I am in a deep sleep. Dreaming of monsters and demons. My fingers snatching at shards of light piercing through the swirling, churning, molten darkness of my subconscious. Gasping for breath. Desperately kicking my legs. My throat raw and burning. Dark hands clutching at me, tearing my skin.

My eyes snap open. I am a awake. Breathing hard. Clenched fists at my sides. I am awake. It was a dream.
Just a dream…


Something is not right….

I lie still. I listen. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears.

I need to stay quiet.


Realisation explodes through my body with such force that I curl into ball like I have been punched in the stomach. I let out a moan so guttural that it sounds like a demon escaping from the depths of the dreamscape I just left.

Flashes of red heat ignite from my toes, across my torso and land like volcanic rocks on my chest.

I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I know what happened last night. I know what they did to me. I want to drown in that black sea. I don’t ever want to wake up again.

The Dark Seed has been planted.


“What I realised as I stood on the other side of this life-changing event was a part of you dies and a part of you lives. It’s not merely the ruin and reconstruction of the body or the destruction and resurrection of the psyche. It is the death of the old way of living and the birth of a new unknown life. One’s sense of security, peace of mind, self-awareness and beliefs, social constructs and idealism’s all dismantle and reform. You live in the afterlife, trying to establish a sanctuary in an environment where you must translate and interpret past, present and future with new eyes.

Life falls into a pattern, your emotions and feelings (however complicated and erratic) become familiar. Your body heals, your mind changes, you recreate, bend and mould, rediscover and transform into something else. You lose a lot of your old self; things you took for granted become the things you cherish.”

What I kept telling myself on that “morning after the night before” was that the worst was over. It had happened and it was finished. Nothing could be worse than being immersed in that night of torturous savagery. It was over. I was alive. Now get up and do something about it!

Comments 4

  1. Grippingly powerful! “. . . you recreate, blend and mould”.

    While I cannot relate to your personal experience, I can relate to that reconstruct of your life, where the past, the present and the future suddenly looks very different to what you knew before. That unfathomable change.

    I hope to read your book soon.

  2. Dear Lily. Thank you for writing from the bottom of your heart. And from the bottom of what the abyss was. I still find myself completely silent when I read your words which unfold in this miraculous story. It is riveting and honest. This ordeal has all the elements of devastation and yet, your courageous and strong spirit turns it into victory, not only for you and your family, but for so many wounded souls among us.

    I say this, so you can understand how necessary it is to name every foul thing that was violating your being and the impact it had on your body, soul and mind. By naming it, in detail, others can identify with what happened to them. Because, often we are in denial and still want to minimize the onslaught.

    So, when the story is told exactly as it happened, only then the terror and the triumph are fully explained. And the soul is purged. Your heart is brave and courageous and fearless. You haven’t internalized this but transformed it into rescuing others from being stuck in the horror.

    You give hope for complete victory. God bless you abundantly for your presence in our lives. You shine like many suns and stars in a dark society. You are the hero of many. You are certainly my hero.

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