That Smile

That Smile chapter five

The next morning I awoke with a start. The twisted visions that haunted my dreams were merciless on my peaceful slumber, playing with my heart and fixing my mind into an unending state of fear.

The moment that my eyelids snapped open the panic took over me. It coursed its way through my veins as I scanned the room frantically, searching for a single sign of familiarity. The light beige walls that formed a cage around me were not ones I could recall ever seeing. The duvet that clung to my skin and maintained warmth around me was unfamiliar.

As if it were instinctual, my head snapped around to my left side where he would normally be lying, either in a drunker torpor or waiting, like an owl on its prey, until I woke up. But no threat lay beside me, only the soft material of warm bed covers and the multiple pillows that were laid out evenly and deliberately. As my eyes focused and the haziness cleared from my brain, my heart rate calmed down significantly as I realised where I was. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh of relief as I realised that where I was was in no immediate danger.

"Damn, Rosie..." I uttered in shock as I familiarised myself with the guest bedroom, which looked like it had jumped right from the pages of a home décor catalogue. The light beige walls were painted to perfection and the pictures on the wall of animals of all different sorts were heart-warming. The view of the back yard from the small balcony was picturesque. The en suite bathroom that was joined to the left corner of the room was as big as the bedroom itself, containing a Jacuzzi bath and a shower with every jet imaginable. I avoided looking at my ghostly reflection in the mirror until I was sure I could handle it.

As I made my way back through to the bedroom, I sat carefully down on the couch that resided in the corner of the room, opposite the walk in wardrobe which was bare. The few belongings that I had brought with me were stacked neatly on one of the shelves. This room was nearly bigger than my entire apartment.

It was only after I had mellowed completely that I recognised the familiar smell of pancakes, eggs and bacon wafting upstairs and through the cracks between the door and wall. I smiled, remembering the many hungover college mornings I spent in the company of Rosie's amazing cooking.

Before I made my way downstairs to interrupt what was sure to be a calm morning for them, I decided to address the issue of my greasy hair, bruise covered face and battered body. I stepped into the shower and was out in record time. I slipped into the comfy cotton jeans and baggy t-shirt I had packed with me. Throughout this process I tried my best to ignore the residual aches and pains from the events of the day before.

Finally, when I had no other options, I held my breath and turned around to face myself in the mirror. Tears collected in my eyes as I took in my bruised and swollen right eye, and the neatly stitched cut along my hairline. Angry welts had formed overnight as a result of the heavy leather belt that had been cast over my skin time and time again. I could barely look at the hand marks that were still left around my throat.

What shocked me most was my size. I had always been short, I knew that. I had always been slender, but soft somehow- obviously not an athlete, and my skin was to pale and my hair too dark to be one of those sun kissed, perfectly tanned and toned volleyball players that seemed to stalk me at school. I didn't always watch what I was eating and I was never stick thin.

What I saw now was a definite contrast to what I was used to seeing. My bruised ribs were clearly visible. My collarbone stuck out more than I remembered it and my skin seemed to cling tighter to my muscle and bones than ever. My cheekbones stood out from my face like weather beaten rocks, casting bruise-like shadows on the rest of my face. My skin was ghostly white and stretched tight, the paleness of my complexion making the mangle of bruises stand out like purple paint on a white canvas.