Drained € Grayson Dolan

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The sunlight glistened through my sheer curtains it blinded me from above. The sun slight blotted little bright dots on my exposed skin. 

The scare portrayed on my legs and wrists were in the limelight. I narrowed my eyes blinking a stare at the ugliness of my body.

I hate it.

I hate you.

Stiffling a whispered groan my freaky skinny body slipped from the sheets as I arose from my bed.

7:07 am

The alarm clock displayed on my bed read. I let out a tiny sob, with no tears. I shuffled slowly to my bathroom,  my head throbbing at each step I took.

I glanced in the mirrior hung above the bathroom counter. A wave disgust and appal took over my body.

I prodded at my stomach cringing at how badly my ribs were showing. I havent eaten for 3 days now.

I then brought my fingers up to my face, touching my cheeks in a circular motion.

Absolutely hideous

I lumbered over to my shower, turning the knob to hot water.

As I waited for the water to heat up,  I stared back at the mirror, my reflection was unrecognizable.  A broke, drained girl stared back.  Bags and redness were formed under her eyes, she had cigarette burns on her arms.

She didn't cause them though.

I walked back over to the steaming shower, tearing off the underwear and big t-shirt I had. I stepped into the steaming  bliss, warmth overtaking me.

The droplets from the faucet cascaded down my back sending tingling sensations within my whole body. I quickly shampooed and conditioned my hair,  not thinking much of it.

I turned the knob of the shower to off, and patted my body dry with a towel I found on the floor.

I took a swift glance at the mirror gazing at the stranger who was staring back. My lips tugged into a frown.

I pulled a red t shirt over my head and pulled up some ripped jeans over my bum. I didn't even bother to brush my hair, I threw it up into a messy bun and that was that.

I trotted out of the bathroom quickly grabbing my bag with a swift movement.  Slugging it over one shoulder.

I stiffled silently,  letting a tear escape as I went down the stairs.

School is my torture.

I walked past the living room, gagging profusely at the awful stench coming from there.

"Where the fuck are you going, Vannah"

The slurred out words run in the air making me stop dead in my tracks. I walked slowly back to the living room entrance staring at the pity excuse of a goddamn father.

There he was, sprawled on his recliner chair, a stained greasy tank top that used to be white but was yellow . He hasn't showered in days, he only was wearing boxers that were a couple of days old.