War of A Rose

War of A Rose • Chapter 10

Rosaelia

"What happened to you?" I pull a towel from the rack above the bathtub and wrap myself in it.

"Get out," I speak harshly. Her pity is unwanted. Liliana stands her ground at the door, uncaring for my protests.

"I am not leaving you alone until you tell me who did that to you." Since when did she care about my well-being? A dry laugh escapes my lips.

"Nothing happened. Now get out before I follow through on my previous threat." I hope she is smart enough to remember that I do not like her and do not want her around, not after what she pulled for Alessio. Or after she strung my cousin along for her little game. I promised her that if she crossed either of us again, then I would put a bullet between her eyes, and she was pushing the limit right now.

"Who hurt you, Rosaelia? Please tell me. Tell someone." She kept pushing, causing my anger grow, "Tell Alessio, he will kill them." I look around the room for anything I could throw at her. There is nothing except two glass soap dispensers, and in my rage, I was seriously considering using them.

"Alessio is no better than who did this! Every man in this forsaken world is the same!" With that, I pushed her out of the bathroom, locking the door. I stifled a cry as I press my body against the door, legs giving out. I let myself crumble against the cold marble floor. Clutching the towel against my body. I weep, uncontrollably, as I take in the purple imprints that wrap around both of my wrists. Identical ones coated my thighs. I cannot control the sobs that rack my body.

I haven't allowed myself to process my assault, not really. Sleeping the days away and drinking throughout the night has been my only worry. Just get drunk enough to numb the pain, drunk enough to blackout during the day, so that I did not have to feel anything. So that I didn't have to remember how cold their hands felt against my skin as they violated my body, as they brutalized me. I settled on the bathtub, pulling myself up from the floor. I lifted the faucet handle, twisting it all the way on the hot side. Only a few seconds passed before steam began rising from the running water.

I let the towel fall to the floor as I step into the tub, sinking into the water. On my way down, I snatch a washcloth from the shelf and submerged it under the scolding water. Once drenched, I brought it to my skin, scrubbing my thighs, over, over and over again. Until the skin of my inner thighs is raw with blood raising to the skin. Next is my stomach, then my chest. After, my arms, my hips. I kept scrubbing until I was now frantically, scrubbing my entire body. I scrubbed and scrubbed, what seems like every inch of myself, sobbing uncontrollably. Hysterically, trying to get their touch off my skin.

Their ghostly imprints did not disappear. No matter how hot the water or how hard I scrubbed, nothing worked. "Why won't you go away!" A horrid scream tears itself from my throat as I deepen my scrubs.

I almost couldn't hear the knocking at the door between my shrieks and sobs. I keep scrubbing, keep screaming as the knocking turned into banging and eventually splintering as the door was busted from its hinges.

"Go away. Please go away!" I cried harder; only I was not talking to whoever entered the bathroom but to the imprints on my skin. I had finally drawn blood from how harshly I scrubbed. A cry of relief slipped from my lips. The rag is ripped from my grip. Whoever had entered the room, pulls me from the tub. Rough hands gently grip my chin, forcing me to face them.

Alessio's face tits down at mine as he repeats something. I did not realize I had still been wailing until now, when I could not hear what he was saying. His hands dropped from my face to my shoulders. Shaking me gently, yet desperately, "Rosaelia!" Still my screams persisted.