Crashing Down Into Flames

Chapter 37

Chapter Song: Hate Myself- NF

Tuesday- Midnight

-Evangeline-
.

.
.

I cling the towel to my body as I wipe the foggy bathroom mirror- back and forth. I stop, leaning my hand on the damp mirror.

I don't recognize myself.

My hair's short and a dark brown from being damp. It's natural-looking. It's hard to go back to my natural platinum blonde hair because of color-coding science cosmetologist shit and hair damage, but how much more natural can I be when I haven't been myself in years?

My whole body is sore. It's aching and ready to drop dead, but death is only the beginning and isn't the way out (trust me, I've tried.)

I'm thankful for August for caring for me, even if he didn't want to.

This is the part where I show how badass I am and say that I'm in pain, but I'll live while blasting heavy metal, but I can't. Instead, I'm standing in my bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror at how broken I am while only listening to the sound of the water drop from the shower head.

If there's a God, why would she make me be in so much pain, but then again, I put myself in this situation. I said I could take it, so you can't blame her.

My whole body screams to lie down, ever since I got in the shower- it's ready to collapse in bed. A light bruise is starting to show around my neck from the careless strangulation from...

I swallow, my throat sore from the pressure. I drop the towel around my body and tears start to well in my eyes from the tight. Not an inch of my body from above the thigh mark and below the arms isn't marked.

My whole torso is covered in light and dark purple bruised hand prints and hickeys, and my nipples are swollen. My ribs feel like they've been pressed in and need constant holding.

I don't recognize myself.

All I can do is replay the conversation he told me as I sat next to him in his car before he dropped me off at August's house.

"If you ever need me, again, here's my number." He pulls a business card from his grey suit jacket and slips it into my hoodie pocket. "You will call, won't you?" He tells me while running his knuckles down the smeared makeup on my cheek instead of requesting.

"God, you looked so beautiful today," He opens his fist and presses his thumb against my lip, smearing the black lipstick along the side of my cheek as I stare straight ahead at the street August's house is on.

How did he attain the exact brand of lipstick I wore this morning when I kissed him? I have no idea.

All I can do is stare straight ahead with no emotions showing on my face, but a thousand thoughts and feelings flowing through my mind. I didn't break. I will not cry until I leave- I won't give him the satisfaction of my tears.

"Such a good girl," He tells me, holding his thumb against my cheek.

I can't help the butterflies that battle in my stomach and my betraying cheek that smiles.