When reading news about attacks on women, at least most people always see a man as the attacker. Have you heard a lot of stories where a woman was the assailant? I never heard of it, but I experienced it on my own skin.

It’s been almost a year, and I’m still afraid of the passers on the street. It was a winter morning, I was quietly going to work (I was doing rehearsals with the children). A woman came out of the road with me. I quietly headed to the house of the girl I was working with, talking on the phone. This woman went after me, well few others in the same direction as me. And here she holds me by the hand. A strange conversation begins between us.

J: With whom are you talking? Just try to say that you saw me, I will kill you hate.

I am a woman, who are you? I do not know you.

Q: Are you stupid? Tell him that you saw me.

“Woman, what did you smoke?”

And I get my fist in the skull. I was so upset that I started crying. She, of course, was not confused and started to hit me in the head, I only had to cover my head with my hands. A grandmother passed by. I started screaming, something like: Ah, you hate such things, the slugs are fighting here! My attacker immediately found what to say: Yes, grandmother, it seems the girl attacked me, her teeth raised me (showing her smile in the form of a fence). And under the screams of the grandmother, she washes in an unknown direction. I scream, my neck hurts, my grandmother hurts on me. At home, the child with whom I was going to work, I was calmed and sent home. For some reason I was so ashamed of myself that I was in this situation. It’s been a year and I’m still afraid of people on the street. Be careful, women are animals too.