housekeeper

33. In the shower.

(Vanessa)

I wake up again to the nurse who is busy early, recording my parameters. She sees that I'm awake. "Good morning, Vanessa. I'm almost done, then you can go back to sleep," she whispers, careful not to wake Dave. I look at her tiredly as she asks how my pain is on a scale of zero to ten.

"As long as I'm lying still, it's a two. If I have to walk, around a four, I guess. I have to... Vo... I have to vomi..." The nurse quickly hands me a vomit bag, and I empty my stomach with loud retching sounds.

Through my vomiting, I see Dave sitting up and stretching. His sleepy, hoarse voice comes closer as he asks, "Feather? Everything all right?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Lavens. They didn't hit any vital organs, but they did touch her muscles. She hasn't had much food for a few days. I think she ate too much greasy food yesterday," the nurse explains, glancing at the empty McDonald's packages.

Meanwhile, I'm done vomiting and look guiltily in her direction. She smiles at me.

"Next time, you'll have to stick to a small portion and not too late in the evening. Well, I'm done. The doctor has arranged some appointments for you today. And if you like, you can take a shower. My colleagues from the morning shift will tape the wound with a water-repellent plaster and then help you shower."

"No, I just want to. No help!"

"Vanessa, they're used to helping people."

"And I don't want to. I want to get back to my normal life as soon as possible. I wish to forget this period as soon as possible. I... I..." My breath catches as I try to hold back my tears. Despite my efforts, tears start to flow. My breathing quickens, and I feel stuffy. Dave takes hold of me in a tight embrace and strokes my hair.

"Hey, they won't help you. I'll stay in the room, and if you need help, I'm here. If that's okay with the nurse, of course?"

"Of course, Mr. Lavens. And we're just a call away. I'll leave you alone. Take some rest. Today will be a busy day."

And it's true that it's going to be a busy day. The nurse arrives at 7 o'clock to take care of my wound, and putt on a waterproof patch. She escorts me to the bathroom and gets everything ready for a shower. She wants to help me with my nightwear, but I refuse. After a few tries, she gives up. She turns on the shower before leaving the bathroom. I sit on the chair and look around before I start taking off my clothes, which I manage with a lot of effort. I hiss as I raise my arms too far and look at my mutilated body in the mirror. Most of the bruises are already healing. Did they hit me so badly during the kidnapping? I don't remember much of what happened, just the days they held me, and how Karen almost didn't give me any food.

I stand up and walk to the shower. I feel the warm water jets and am happy when I stand under it, letting the water run over my hair and face. I stand there for a long time before I spray shampoo into the palm of my hand and raise it to wash my hair. It feels so good to be here. I then take the shower gel but accidentally drop it on the floor. I reach for the bottle and feel a stabbing pain where the bullet wound is. I must have shouted a little too loudly because Dave storms into the bathroom in a panic and joins me in the shower. His T-shirt and boxer shorts are quickly soaked. "Feather, are you hurt?"

"No, I just wanted to get the shower gel and I think I went down too fast. My wound hurt me." Dave turns me around to look at the wound. "No blood on the patch." Then he stays quiet for a while. I turn around and see his pained look. "What's with you?"

"All those bruises on your body. This is all because of me."

"Dave, this isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself for things others have done," I reply, placing my hand on his cheek.