I never thought I’d be physically assaulted. But then again, what guarantee did I have. with my protective parents and average running skills’ I thought for sure I could protect myself no matter the situation. I remember 2nd of September, vividly, after all, how could I forget a day that changed so much of my rather mundane life. I taking my usual evening walk with my earphones in so I could not hear the man’s steps as he snuck up behind me. i felt someone rather close to me and turned my head just in time to receive a punch straight to my face. My glasses fell off instantly, the huge man ‘s punch threw me to the bare ground where he got on top of me and continued to pound with all his energy. I was only a girl then, he should have known the first punch was already more than I could handle but he mercilessly kept punching me with all his might. When he was sure I couldn’t move, he threw me in a trench on the side of the path and walked away with my phone. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a phone almost got me killed. Someone thought my life was not nearly as valuable as a Samsung. Left in the trench I, thought maybe I was dreaming. I’m not even lying. The shock was far too much for me to handle and I honestly thought I was having a dream and that I’d soon wake up to my flower covered duvet. But it was in fact not a dream. Twenty minutes later and I was still in the trench. All this time do not imagine me silently weeping, I was screaming at the top of my lungs and wailing. I am pretty sure I traumatized the old lady because she let out a piercing scream. When I think back to that day it reminds me of a zombie movie. I was limping, had dirt all over my clothes and body, tears were running down my face at an uncontrollable rate and I was screaming. I walked myself home, luckily I, hadn’t gone too far from my home. My little sister screamed when she saw me but my mom held a steady resolve that crumbled a few hours later when sat beside my hospital bed. i cried a lot that day and every day for the following month. i even shed a little tear as I wrote this essay. I knew for sure that I wasn’t mother Theresa but I had done nothing to anyone to be treated like that. When my friends begun the third trimester, I was still nursing my wounds. And when I eventually returned to school, at that time I wished I hadn’t. I had trauma no doubt. Cried myself to sleep when the dorm lights went off. Everyone around me was doing fine, it felt like my world was crumbling but everyone around me was doing ok. I wondered how many times the roles had been reversed with my frriends. I wondered about all the things they went through that I was completely unaware of. Then I truly understood the importance of kindess to each and everyone, no matter how they treat us. I dug myself a nice deep pit of sorrow and sat there for a long time. I became paranoid. Everytime I heard footsteps behind me I had a panick attack despite my composed façade. I cried in anger because why had been chosen. But I learnt that life isn’t amazingly synced to be fair. Good and bad things happen to whom they chose and we don’t get much control over that. Life isn’t built to be fair. Overtime I made an agreement with myself, I was angry and bore hate to those two men.