Good Morning, Sunshine

showering (beware, gore)

Disclaimer: This chapter has gore and features a nightmare. If something like that triggers you, stop reading after the three dots. (It'll look like this: ...) You won't miss out on story relevant things. So please, do yourself the favour and don't read this if you think that it may affect you in a negative way that goes further than momentary disgust.
Much love,
Caughtbyfantasy
~
If they can't accept your beauty, they are not worth being part of your life.
~
Taking off my trousers was a real challenge. I somehow managed to pull myself up by grabbing a bar of the towel rail and then I stood there, clinging to the thing (which was activated and adorably warm) with both hands, arms already shaking, not knowing what to do.

My trousers had a rubber band at the top which had to be untied to get them off but to do that I'd have to let go of the rail and that meant that I'd fall. Inevitably. This was a problem that couldn't be solved.

And then I fell. I was lucky that my wheelchair was close enough for me to fall back into it.

There I sat again, my trousers still where I didn't want them to be: On me.

After a few moments of random wiggling, untying rubber bands and a lot of pulling and pushing I'd managed to take the damn trousers off and dropped them on the floor, somewhere next to my shirt.

I couldn't prevent myself from staring at my legs. No scars on my thighs. I exhaled and continued on to the lower parts of my legs.

I inhaled.

Scars.

Claw marks.

Jaromir's signature all over my shins.

I exhaled.

So that was that. I had been marked by Jaromir. Thoroughly. And these marks looked like him and I had had a fight. I wondered if I had left scars on Jaromir's body too.

And how the hell I had survived.

No one but him could answer this question for me. Not right now.

Now wasn't the time to wonder about this anyway. I had managed to take off my trousers and I'd done so for a reason: so I could take a shower.

So I went on my way and into the shower.

At first I struggled with heaving myself out of the wheelchair and onto the chair in the shower because I had already used up so much energy by taking off my trousers but when I sat where I wanted to sit and had pushed the wheelchair away from me I felt proud.

I imagined that showering in a sitting position would feel strange but as soon as I'd turned on the water and it hit me in the face that I'd stretched towards the shower head I relaxed.

Showering was showering, no matter if you were standing upright or sitting down.

Showering was water in the temperature you liked, relaxation and shower thoughts.

Showering was washing off dirt and memories and pain.

And that was what I did.

At first I let the water run across my body, let my skin take it in, soak and get used to being touched by flowing water again after three months. I most likely had been washed by someone on a regular basis but I couldn't imagine that that had happened in a shower or bathtub.