A Simple Tale To Comfort a Rape Victim

As the sun began to rise, Rahul was allowed to visit Ashal for the first time. Her eyes were closed. As he entered, she stirred and opened her eyes. When she saw him, she closed them again.
Her voice was just louder than a whisper.

"Oh, Rahul, please go away! Please, God! Please, Rahul. Go away. I don't want you to see me. Just leave me alone."
He put his hand tenderly on her shoulder.
"Ashal, my beloved, you've been betrayed and violated. You are hurt and broken, but Ashal, when I look at you, I see only your beauty. No one can diminish your radiance. One day you will laugh, sing and dance again. I will be at your side admiring your loveliness. My love for you flies far above all these terrible earthly happenings."

She turned slowly and painfully over to lie on her side facing away from Rahul. He looked at her back but did not move away. He could not leave her.
"Hello, Ashal. I'm still here. I'm not going away until they ask me to leave. I know that you can hear me and so I'm going to tell you a story. It's about the Shepherd Boy and the Yellow Flower.

"You see, this shepherd boy walked along the mountain trail every morning and back again each evening.
Every morning, he would pass a lovely yellow flower growing next to the path. He would always say: ‘Good morning, pretty flower' and then walk on a few steps. There he would turn around, wave at the flower and then walk on again.
Every evening, he would return along the same path and would then say: ‘Good night' to the flower.
One night, after drinking too much, a drunken man stumbled along the same path and roughly put his clumsy boot on the yellow flower.

The next morning, the shepherd boy came joyfully walking along the path, as he always did. He stopped his whistling when he saw how his flower had been trampled. He sat down next to it and began to straighten out its stem, leaves and petals. For the first time ever, the flower spoke. ‘Young boy, I'm broken.' He quickly answered: ‘No, no, pretty flower. Only the dwelling, in which your soul lives, has been damaged. Your soul's still as beautiful as before.'

That evening, when the boy came walking down the path again, he looked at the flower. It was as lovely as ever. He smiled. ‘I told you your soul has remained as lovely as ever!'
The flower smiled. ‘Thank you, my friend. I'll see you tomorrow, as usual.' "

First, she was completely quiet. After a while, he heard her softly calling his name.
"Yes, Ashal."
"Rahul, just sit there near me. You can go whenever you want to. I want to sleep now. They've given me drugs, you know."
"I'll be here, Ashal. Close your eyes. I'm not going away."