Iris

10 | scar

     Cold shivers accompanied the frigid water as it gradually trickled against my skin and effortlessly stole all the warmth my body had previously shielded. My limbs remained still, refusing to let go of the numbness they had clung onto. For that numbness was a dilapidated wall; one that sheltered me from my thoughts despite its own misfortune. And one that deceived my mind into believing that it'd last forever — that it wouldn't crumble into millions of pieces the moment it feels too burdened.

The low burbling of water filled my ears that had been strained over the past minutes, cautiously waiting to register any sound that would be considered as a source of danger. And my blurred gaze repeatedly scanned over a specific scar that rested upon my bare arm. It was a thin, long line; its light pink color reflected prominently against my pale complexion.

I had no idea on how I had gotten it, but I was very well aware of the person who had given it to me.

The numbness began to falter. It slipped out of my grip and collapsed onto the plain tiles beneath my feet. It crumbled into thousands of pieces that had no hope in getting mended once again — that had no will in sheltering me any longer. Everything happened so rapidly that my mind couldn't keep up with the pace of the events taking place.

A shaky sigh passed through my parted lips as my eyelids repeatedly fluttered, tears easily escaping my eyes on the impact. I shook my head but nothing disappeared. Not the image of my fragile body weakly curled up in the corner of the cold basement. And not the image of the figure towering mine.

My heart hammered wildly against my ribcage, its loud sound being the only one my ears could register. And my chest heaved, my lungs miserably failing to grasp onto any of the air that had attempted to enter them. I tore my gaze away from the scar as I swallowed a sob back.

I was safe. No one could hurt me. I needed to breathe.

I reached for the tab and turned the water off. I couldn't process any of my actions. Not when I wrapped the towel around my body and not when I got dressed into the clothes Marcus had brought for me — the same ones I was so happy for getting just a day ago.

My body didn't stop shivering. The warmth my clothes had provided didn't — in any way — contribute into stopping it from doing so. Perhaps, my shivers weren't a result of coldness. Perhaps, they were a result of something my mind couldn't grasp onto — something my mind was too exhausted to understand.

It seemed as though my mind had gotten abruptly clouded; it turned into a chaotic haze. A blurred one. Dark clouds enveloped every corner of it and blocked the slightest amounts of light — of understanding — from illuminating it. Every image added to the heavy burden those dark clouds were already holding.

I was scared. Terrified. No matter how hard I attempted to pull my mind back to reality, I couldn't. And no matter how hard I attempted to speak up, to ask for help, I couldn't find a voice to do so. I had no idea on what was happening or on what I was supposed to do.