Yesterday was terrible. I did things that I don't even understand. Just because I wanted to make someone happy. Look where that got me, eh? In a destroyed room, wanting nothing more than to burn my flesh off of my bones. I can still feel his lips on my neck...
I shudder, throwing the covers off of me. I don't want anything to do with that man again. I don't want anything to do with this new life of mine. I'm going to call Dr Hallet and sort it out. But not before I cleanse myself of everything that I have become. Because I don't want to be this girl any more.
And that's how I came to realise just how much I love showers.
It's not the droplets of water as they hit my skin like bullets. Nor the steam that envelopes me in it's warm embrace. Not even the fact that it's quick and easy, no hassle or anything of the sort.
It's the freedom. Being stood up in your own space without the restrictions of clothing. There's no need to hide here. No need to feel conscious of what people think of the person I truly am. The person I am ashamed to be.
I don't have to prove myself to anyone here. I don't have to show people that I'm getting better. I just have to stand here, letting the water spill over me. Washing away any sin I may have collected along my travels. The stains of every day life just disappearing at the push of a button. It's quite a beautiful thought, actually.
Beautiful. Not a word that I usually put in the same sentence as anything associated with myself. I'm the furthest from that word as possible. But today, I don't mind hearing it. This process is beautiful. It's incredible. And I'm loving every second of this temporary solitary liberation...
The door of the bathroom bursts open, shattering my little bubble of happiness.
“Get out of the shower,” I hear Mark snarl. After the explosion last night, I'm surprised he has the nerve to talk to me again. Let alone demand me to follow his orders. Because he's got another thing coming.
“Fuck off,” I snap, turning away from him. I know he can't see me through the frosted glass, but I don't even want him to see my silhouette. I don't want any part of me to be exposed to that scumbag ever again.
“I said, get out. Now.”
“Or what? What will you do? Hmm?"
“I'll make you get out.”
“I'd like to see you try.”
Before I know what's going on, the door has flung open and he's joined me inside. I should feel self-conscious right now, but the fire of my rage completely drives any shyness back. As he grabs my arm, I swing the other at him. My fist cracks against his jaw, producing a earth-shattering roar to escape him. My back slams against the tiles as he wraps his fingers around my throat.
“Fucking bitch!” he shouts in my face.
“Ignorant arsehole!”
“Who d'you think you are?!”
“I'm your worst fucking nightmare!”
He presses up against me and I'm sure it's meant to be a threat. But the feel of his wet clothes on my skin sends my senses into overdrive. His face is inches away from mine. He thinks he can hide it from me, but I can feel his breath on my face. His fast, shallow breathing. This isn't temper. This is something different all together.
“Give me one good reason not to crush your neck,” he growls viciously. “Go on. Tell me.”
I smirk up at him, knowing that right now I can push his buttons. And I realise that my nakedness is now a power. I could totally control his actions right now. That's something that I want to do.
