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content warning for descriptions of body dysmorphia and disassociation for the first section of this chapter, reader desecration is advised
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The feel of warm water against her skin wasn't as comforting as it should have been. [Name] stood, stripped of their clothing as they faced the shower-head, eyes downcast as they focused on the stream of dirty water as it disappeared down the drain. It was tinged with dirt and blood and what looked like the typical residue from their hair dye. Though what might have been a typically comforting practice, watching it all drain away, the relief and honest gratitude that might normally flood their body at the sight was replaced by an anxiety and deep set disgust.
It was wrong, it all felt wrong. Her skin itched and her body felt distorted and grotesque. The scars that littered her form drawing out her self hatred in an acute and terrible detail. The scars of The Corruption littered her body like strange bullet wounds, they looked like eyes whenever she let her own trail to them. She could see the pattern of the irises lined out in clear detail and it made her stomach churn and bile rise in her throat.
[Name]'s lips were chapped and bloodied from the constant abuse of her teeth as she gnawed away at the flesh, nails digging into the palm of her hands hard enough to draw blood even with her stubby and chipped nails. Water hit the top of her head in it's uneven rhythm, doing little to down out the static in her mind. Everything felt wrong, it all hurt so much and yet she felt none of it at all. The pain that had settled into her joints and the headache that threatened to split her in two was there and as sharp and agonizing as ever and yet it never felt real.
