Recover

'The outside pain didn't match the hurt inside'

The bus came to outside my house and I got off, relieved to be free from the prying eyes that were staring at me for the whole journey. I don't blame them. I'd have gawped if someone got on the bus in the state I was in. I found the key to the house in the usual place and let myself in. It felt so nice to be home. Just the way I could always smell the potted plants which are in practically every corner and  there were a pair of my little sister's boots by the door, it was comforting. The hallway was big and majestic with a large mirror and ledge to my right and coat pegs to my left. I knew everybody would be home because it had just gone two in the morning. I realised in the rush I had forgotten my shoes so I just hung up my jacket and crept up the stairs. Once in my room, I rid myself of all my clothes,  wrapped them in a plastic bag and binned them. I got in the shower and turned the temperature dial to maximum. I let the scolding hot water burn away his germs. After a long half an hour and the rest of the body wash I stepped out and dried myself. My skin hurt so much that I could barely touch it with the towel. I crumbled to the floor and wept uncontrollably. I just wanted to lay there and never have to get up again. I felt so numb despite the raging agony of my skin. The outside pain didn't match the hurt inside. It took another 10 minutes to summon the courage and energy to get up. I peeled myself from the bathroom floor and put on clean pyjamas. I climbed into bed and for the first time all day looked at my phone. I had 3 missed calls from mum and a couple of messages.
The first one read:
Love, ring me please. I'm worried about you. Let me know where you are please xx
Then:
Darling, it's late. Where are you? Just text or ring so I know you're safe xx

Oops. I replied back saying I was home and that I had been at Ella's party and hadn't looked at my phone. I had a few other messages from my friends asking why I had not in fact been at the party. I ignored them and snuggled down into the duvet.
I drifted off quite quickly because I was beyond tired but soon images flashed across my brain of what had happened and I jolted awake. I ran to the bathroom and was violently sick again. Guilt and fear surged through me and all the feelings of not being able to breathe and his weight on top of me and how his hands were pinning down my wrists came flooding back. Big black bruises had now developed and I wished I could rub them away like the rest of the marks he left.