Pinyin

It happened yet again. But for the first time blinding rage did not hit Trisha, nor did unspeakable terror or helplessness. She now had a name for it. Surya had given her the name in the train the other day; this one name had several other names, faces and stories, a lot similar to her own. But, this was still little different from the hundreds of other nights and all those stories.
A night like this had come only once in a period of several years, more than seven years ago, and she had thoroughly regretted taking it jokingly thereafter.
This night has been repeating itself for the past month now in this beautiful apartment in Europe. No, the distance failed this time. It hadn’t happened in Spain and Trisha was happy when she came to Germany knowing it could not follow her here. But, how horribly wrong she was! But this was still little different. Like the last time a few nights before, she woke up unable to sleep, unable to move. Every inch of her body emanated the buzzing sound and was frozen in time; no matter how hard she tried, she was pinned. She did not fly into blood red rage and profanities were not screaming inside her head towards that despicable Thing. She did not struggle, she was not afraid, as usual (she was almost never afraid) and now she had the name. The difference... the finger was tracing her entire back lustfully. Like the previous five times here in this apartment. Like the last time, which was the first time, she felt the wretched desire spread through her hauntingly paralyzed body. The finger kept tracing and touching her back, her body had been facing her left side when that thing started (just like the last time), her back was exposed to the air and now that thing. It was now tracing below her waist... Her mind drifted to this movie she had watched based on a true story where this woman was raped by a ghost. She felt herself contracting as she often did when terrible desire hit her. Trisha thought in between the rhythms, but this would not be rape...