Mon Amour | Rafe Cameron

HUIT

〰︎♡〰︎♡〰︎♡〰︎

She shuffled through the grass finally reaching the dock. Her aunt and uncle had kept her parents boat there, but hadn't touched it since their passing. She needed to get away from the house so she decided to at least see if the boat would start.

She stepped on, imminently going inside the small bathroom to her left. She gasped when she saw her blood covered face. She watched as the blood ran down her face and down her neck, covering her white shirt. Seeing her injuries made it hurt more as the pain made her sob.

She grabbed a small towel stuck in the tiny cabinet under the sink. She wet the towel with warm water, tapping her face wiping some of the blood off but definitely not all of it. She winced in pain every time the damp towel connected with her delicate skin. She didn't see the point of trying to clean up as she was still bleeding a decent amount.

She examined her face. She had a large gash above her left eyebrow. Around her eye was red, guaranteeing a black eye. Mark had popped a blood vessel in her eye, causing the whites of her beautiful eyes to showcase a red color when she looked down.

Her nose was bleeding and her right cheek was also bleeding pretty bad. The bruising had already started, her eyes burnt as they filled with moisture. She couldn't stand the pain any longer. Mentally or physically. Yes the damage to her features were extremely painful, but nothing compared to the feeling of her heart being shredded, as even the human decency she thought her uncle had not to almost kill her, vanished.

Maybe she deserved it, maybe she didn't. She wasn't sure but she knew she needed something to stop the feeling before her demons ended her once and for all. Although, maybe she wanted them to.

She usually would start to feel overwhelmed and suffocated at this point. This happened in fairly minor situations when small things would trigger her anxiety, leading her to spiral into panick attacks, that felt never ending.

She didn't want to stare in the mirror any longer, hating her appearance, and scared as to where her anxiety would send her.

She had already felt herself slowly slipping into that state. Her breathing sped up and she shook uncontrollably. The boat rocked, startling her, and she remembered why she came to the boat in the first place.

She took a second to take in her parents boat. Not her mother's sweet perfume, nor her fathers comforting cologne lingered after almost a year, causing Calla to hold back more tears. But their pictures and her mothers precisely picked decorations were still on display.

She pulled the spare key from the cabinet and sunk it into its slot. She twisted the key as the boat failed to turn over a couple times.

She felt her panic increase before the engine finally roared to life and she steered farther into figure 8. Her heart ached and her face throbbed. She felt so empty.. like she had no one. She felt alone all except for the same demons who always seemed to be with her.

                                   ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

After almost an hour, the feeling to let go and drown herself in some kind of comfort increased. Her anxiety didn't die down, and neither did the excruciating pain caused by the wounds that indented her soft face. She silently cried the whole way, trying to figure out what she did for this to happen.

She glanced down at her shirt that was almost fully drenched in blood. She debated taking it off but she couldn't stand the feeling of her skin under her fingertips, so the shirt remained on. She kept steering, every once and a while wiping fresh blood from her lips or eyes so she could function without it getting in the way. It would've concerned anyone as to how much she was bleeding, but she avoided the fact in hopes the bleeding would stop.