Realm of the Rogues

Chapter XLV

After about 10 minutes, we arrive at the entrance to the airport. I'm breathing heavily from having to keep up with Dom's long strides, which in turn makes my already filthy dress more soaked with my sweat. I don't have long to wallow in my misery, however, as my senses are bombarded with impressions. Normally I would probably have handled this situation just fine, but after almost three weeks locked in solitude, this is simply too much. My head goes dizzy and my eyes sting from the magnitude of colors, flashing screens, and running people everywhere. My hands fly up to cover my eyes, as my head feels like it's about to explode from the sound of wheels over tiles, footsteps everywhere, and shouts coming from everywhere, some of them even over loudspeakers. 

I stand there for a second, holding my head and forcing my eyes as shut as I can, as I feel myself starting to hyperventilate, and my entire body itch and buzz. Please, make this stop, I address no one in particular, way too overwhelmed to think clearly. I vaguely register someone grabbing around my waist and starting to pull me. I realize it must be Dom, and decide to let myself go and trust him. Still with my eyes closed and hands over my ears, he guides me for a couple of minutes, which allows me to slowly begin to calm down.

I open one of my eyes slowly, as we stop walking. Dom is right in front of me with his chest in eye height. I stare at it, so relieved that he knows what I need, which right now is shielding me from all visual impressions. I see him reach his arm over my shoulder and push something behind me. He steps forward, making me back up into the room he just opened a door to. I dare a small glance around and am further relieved as I realize, that we are in a bathroom. It's big and spacious, and only with one single toilet at the back wall. On either side of the toilet are some armrest thingies, and I notice that the sink can be lowered. It must be a toilet for people with special needs. 

I take a deep breath and comply with Dom's movements, as he grabs my lower arms and starts to pull them away from my ears. There are still so many sounds, but luckily it's now muffled and I believe I'm able to deal with it.

"I'm going to go find you some other clothes and fix us some tickets. You can wash off in the meantime," Dom says and catches my eyes with his. He looks at me a bit longer and raises his eyebrows in question. I just nod back to show that I understand. Then he walks back out of the door, and for a second it feels like a bomb of noise was just deployed, but it's muffled again the moment the door shuts.

I take a deep breath and rub my hands over my face, to try and relieve some of the anxiety. I put down the lid on the toilet and plop down before I let my face fall into my palms. I'm so disappointed in myself. Why can't I just stop being such a bother and a problem? Look at all this Dom is forced to do for me, just because I can't get my shit together. For God's sake. What is wrong with me? I slap my cheek and pull at the roots of my hair before letting out a suppressed scream of frustration. I won't allow this to go on like this. I have to stop being a victim all the time. 

With renewed drive, I stand up, walk over to the sink, and turn on the cold water. I splash a couple of scoops on my face and then turn the tap to lukewarm. I start to take off the dress, that's now hanging more loosely around my body, than when I had first put it on. I remember thinking it was such a beautiful and flattering dress, but now it just holds bad memories. As the dress doesn't cooperate much in my effort to get it off, I end up literally ripping it off my body with a wave of anger. No way am I going to let this dress force me to stay in my misery - no will I let anything do so.

With the dress lying discarded in pieces on the floor, I move on to the lingerie. It gets the same treatment as the dress and ends up in a heap of fabric next to it - not that it was much fabric to begin with. Now totally naked I start to splash water all over my body, not caring about the increasing amount of water on the tile floor underneath me. I have never been this eager to wash myself, and slowly I realize, that this is more than just a wash. It's almost like a baptism - marking the transition from the person I was in the cellar, to a more vibrant and eager person, ready to take on life.

I use hand soap to clean the most nasty parts of myself, including my hair. As I put my head under the flow of water and wash out the soap in my hair, I revel in the fresh scent and can't help but feel like a new person for every speck of dirt and dead clumps of hair, that washes down the drain. As the water flows clear, I wring out most of the water from my hair and stand up, looking at myself in the mirror. I'm shocked at the sight that meets me. 

My cheeks are sunken in and I have dark bags under my eyes. I have always been a bit lean, but never skinny - always with wide hips, round booty, and full breasts. Now everything just seems sucked dry, leaving me with collar- and hip bones that stick out and visible ribs. I feel myself being pulled back into sadness, at how much I have changed. I never did anything wrong - so how could I have been mistreated like that? 

I slap my cheek again, forcing myself to turn my sorrow into something more constructive, which ends up being anger. Anger I can work with.