The man, whose name I remember as Mr. Eddie, was a middle-aged man with a family. He had a terraced house, which meant he was quite rich (in Gunung Ayu Village, if your house was terraced, you were considered rich). He had a wife and three children, one of whom was about my age.
Every time I was about to go home after washing the clothes, he would call me and give me extra money, food, and other things. He once gave me 20 dollars, which was too much for a tip. I was very grateful, and many times I refused the money and items he wanted to give me, but he insisted, so I had no choice but to accept.
Then, on that day, three weeks after I started working in his house, he called me into one of the rooms.
"There are more dirty clothes to wash," he said. I followed his orders.
Inside the room, there were no dirty clothes, but he stood with a ring in his hand. He then expressed his feelings of love for me and asked me to be his second wife. He said something like this:
"Maya, would you like to be my second wife? I loved you at first sight. In fact, if you want, I will divorce Melda for you. For you and your beauty, I will throw away my family. You will live in abundance after marrying me."
I was shocked beyond belief. My heart was beating so fast that I didn't even need to put my hand to my left chest to feel the beat. I never wanted to marry or even get close to a married man, let alone one who had children and was the same age as me. I shook my head at him and tried to leave the room, but he immediately stopped me by pulling my arm. He lock the door.
At that moment, I felt something very strange. My body was shaking. I was too frightened. Then he brashly brushed my lips. I slap his hand away, but he grabbed my hand instead. And his eyes began to look creepy. Then he rubbed my neck. His hand goes to my breast. Oh, at that moment, I felt like strangling myself to death before he did anything more crazy.
I was so lucky. The man's wife knocked on the door, and the scary man let me go. The man's wife, whose name was Melda, asked why I had a pale face and looked like I was about to cry. I lied to her. I said that I accidentally tore her shirt and that I was afraid of being scolded. There was no way I could tell her that her husband had expressed love for me. I didn't want to cause a scene.
The next day, Mrs. Melda came to my house.
At 10 a.m., she came in angry and made a scene. She threw a tantrum and swore all sorts of things at me. And the neighbors came to watch the commotion. She accused me of seducing her husband. Of course, I denied it. It's true that I never flirted with her husband. Then she said that her husband kept a lot of pictures of me in his house. She said her husband was also very angry yesterday and wanted to divorce her for me. I never knew anything about those pictures until now. What I still remember is that she said something like this:
"Bitch. You whore. More dirty than thousand sluts. A girl like you should be used as pig feed. Damned."
The fire of anger was already burning in her heart, and the people watching the commotion were provoked. Being a bitch woman who ruined another woman's marriage was one of the most unforgivable and hated crimes in this village, apart from stealing and robbery, of course. And they, without knowing what was really going on, were angry with me. They thought I was really a seducer. No one would listen to my defense. In fact, my voice might not have been heard at all because of the noise of their anger.
I was so scared at that time. especially when they started mobbing me. I cried. I was scared to death. I remembered the incident a few days ago, when a man accused of stealing food was beaten to a bloody pulp. Then, the villagers mercilessly burned the man alive. His cries of pain, as he begged for mercy, and as he rolled on the ground to extinguish the flames on his body are all still fresh in my memory. He was burned to death. A few days later, the police revealed that the man was clean; he had never stolen anything. What they had all done was barbaric, and even if the man had really stolen, he shouldn't have been burned alive like that for 2 dollars worth of food.
I was so scared they would do the same thing to me. I was afraid they would burn me alive. Some women held my hands and feet. Then they undressed me. I screamed and thrashed, but I was outmatched by them. No one showed me any mercy. In the end, they managed to strip me naked in public. In front of everyone, with both hands, I tried to cover my threadless body. I cried and screamed. And heartbreakingly, I heard a lot of male laughter and whistling from the crowd.
Not quite there, they (the women) then pulled my hair and dragged me to the street. My body, which was dragged unprotected, became covered in scratches and wounds. And after reaching the street, more people came to watch. They mobbed me like they mobbed the druggists in the market on Sunday morning. Then, the women mercilessly started beating me. They kicked my body and hit it with wooden sticks and other objects. It hurt like hell, but the pain was no bigger than the shame I felt. The tens or even hundreds of people watching this beating seen my naked body. Nothing was hidden from me anymore. And what was even sadder was that not a single human being was willing to help me. They, especially the men, were mostly giggling. In fact, neither my aunt nor Anggi, my own family, helped me either. They were among the people crowded around watching. My heart ached to see that.
I don't know how long I was beaten by them until I finally lost consciousness. I woke up from the beating and was already at the hospital. Auntie and Anggi were here with me. From them, I learned that the commotion only stopped after the police came to break it up. The policemen broke up the beating and took me to the hospital. They said I'd been unconscious for a few days.
I was grateful that I didn't have to worry about medical expenses because they were covered by the Commission for the Protection of Women and Children. I never had the money to pay for hospital treatment. Later, the beating case was covered by the media, and I received a lot of support from generous people. Both financial support and emotional support At that time, my wounds were quite severe. My face had so many injuries that it was bandaged. My upper lip was torn. My little finger and ribs were broken. I has a lacerated knee. It took me several months and several surgeries to recover my health. After fully recovering and being discharged from the hospital, I returned home. I've never been the same since that incident.