Are We Human?

Chapter 7

I woke up the next morning cold. Dried sweat clung to my body in a thick film, a painful reminder of the events from the night before. I shuttered and cringed at the prominent memory. 

I attempted to stand up that morning, only to groan when I felt a slight ache. 

Oh shit, I thought. I don't remember going that far. 

A bright blush involuntarily erupted across my cheeks and my eyes began to flood with tears. My breaths became shallow and hurried, the panic and regret finally settling deep into my gut. I couldn't even believe myself. I had just cheated on the love of my life. 

I wanted to die. 

And I know that sounds over dramatic and a bit immature, but I honestly didn't care to think properly in that moment. I was hyperventilating, my brain moving far too fast for comprehension. I wrapped my thin cotton blanket securely around my body and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I couldn't even look at my own body in fear that I might catch a mark that he had left on it. Tears slipped down my already slightly wet face and fell down to greet the itchy fabric. 

After a few more minutes of me trying to calm my breathing and freaking the fuck out all at the same time, I decided to attempt to stand up again. After a few minutes of struggling against the pain, grunts and groans escaping past my lips and into the freezing air, I was successful and stood in the dead center of my closet of a room. 

I peered out the little window, expecting it to make me feel magically better. I had no such luck. Seeing the sun shining down on the buildings outside only made the guilt twist and turn in my stomach at an even more rapid pace. I could feel my whole world freeze over and completely pause, like someone finally stopped the melancholy record. I didn't understand how everyone could walk around and act like everything was perfectly normal when I felt completely shattered. 

I quickly located my previously discarded clothes and threw them on, not even wanting to bother with the extra set sat delicately on my shelf. Maybe if I act like nothing happened, I thought, the record will just replay itself. 

Only moments later, my plan was proved wrong when my skin became itchy at the memory of him. I grabbed my extra clothes and raced down to the showers by the bathrooms, eager to rip this itch clean out of my skin. 

Once I arrived at the Men's shower room, I grabbed a filth soaked towel off of the 'Clean Pile' and entered a slightly secluded shower. I pulled the thin white curtain across the open wall of the area after I hung up my clothes and towel on the rusty hook outside the stall. I immediately stripped off my now disgusting clothes. As I removed each article of clothing I felt like I was removing a piece of him from my memory. 

The water was surprisingly scalding hot, seeing as most of the warm water was typically taken by the guards early on in the morning. I left the heat all the way up, hoping to burn his hands right off of my skin. I knew I needed to savor the heat while I still could. 

My body crawled with the feeling of his touch. I knew the bruises and hickeys and sore feelings would take much more time to finally erase, but I wanted them to be gone now. I needed them to be gone now. The feel of his lips, wet with hunger and full of sharp shark teeth, and hands, needy and lustful but powerful when it roamed my helpless form, was still stuck to me like a hot press. That morning I scrubbed until my skin was raw and my fingertips were prunes, making sure not to leave a single cell that he could have even potentially touched on my body.

After washing myself for the seventh time, I remembered my plan. The silence of the space and the flow of the now cold water made my foggy mind clear just enough to think. I remembered the keys that were left in the dark corner of my room, hopefully untouched, and smirked to myself.

It has begun.