DIRTY BULLETS

chapter eighteen

I COULDN'T HELP the sigh that parted from my lips as the water cascaded over my skin. Goosebumps prickled as the heat of the shower contrasted against my freezing body, sending the most calming feeling of relief right through me. It was the kind of heat that you could feel right through to your bones as a foreign sensation of ease temporarily captivated me. It was silly really, how much a simple shower brought me a type of relaxation I don't remember ever feeling, but perhaps that was because it was the last thing I expected to experience in a place like this.

Bringing my hands up to the top of my head, I let them glide over my hair, brushing it gently away from my face and along the back of my head encouraging the conditioner to escape it through the water as my eyes closed in rest. My mind thought of nothing as I didn't let it and I just revelled in this temporary delusion of content.

It had been a day since the incident with Zeke and maybe it was stupid, maybe it was damaging, but I hadn't let my mind think about it fully. Any time the memory crept into my head, immediately I would shove it away, refusing to comprehend what exactly had happened. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I just wasn't ready. But maybe so much had been happening lately that my brain was defeated and maxed out with everything it was supposed to acknowledge and fathom, and so now it just temporarily filed it away to deal with another time, a time when things weren't so chaotic and taxing. I knew it wasn't healthy or normal, but nothing about what was happening to me was normal. That's what I told myself, to try and justify my refusal to address these things anyway. But until I learnt what the correct way to cope was, I welcomed temporary ignorance with open arms. It was an old friend of mine anyway.

Reluctantly switching off the water, I quickly stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body before I started to dry myself off. My fresh clothes were sitting on the closed toilet where I had left them and I wasted no time in changing into them. Having just spent a wealthy amount of time under the heat of the water, to suddenly step out into the open air was a contrasting hit that I wanted to rid as soon as I could. After dressing into my clothes – nothing flattering but loose fitting joggers and a withered t shirt – my eyes momentarily caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink, but I only looked for a few seconds before tearing my gaze away.

That short amount of time of taking in my appearance was all I needed to notice the lifeless person that stared back. My eyes were dull, rimmed a tired red as dark circles traced the perimeter of them. My skin had grown paler, almost grey probably from a result of me not having stepped foot outside in so long as well as the lack of nutrition I was getting. Although I was brought food, it was nothing of substance and definitely wasn't giving me the energy my body needed, and that probably played a part in my sharp features. I looked gaunt, and although before all of this I wasn't one to take the best care of myself, I at least gave myself better treatment than what I got here. It was scary to see myself the way I did, especially when the entire outline of my being was shadowed with fatigue and defeat.

Picking up the towel that I had thrown on the floor, I brought it up to lightly dry my hair before unlocking the door to the bathroom and hurriedly travelling the short distance back to my room. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact with whoever was making their way towards the main room, and in no time I was back in my bedroom. Though even my subconscious couldn't force me to ignore the way my body shuddered in discomfort when I passed the splattered blood and wedged bullet on the wall of the corridor, a reminder of yesterday.

But my mind paid it no attention even if my body did.

Letting out a gentle huff, I walked further into my room before halting in my place when my eyes fell on something that hadn't been there when I left.

Sat on the wooden seat I had yet to use, was a small pile of items, activities it seemed and what looked to be a puzzle, a couple of books and small packet of pencils. Stepping over to the chair, I picked up the pencils in one hand and then one of the books – a kids colouring book - in the other. The pencils had been used before, some of them well-loved and sharpened to a mere couple inches while others were taller, clearly not used as much. Opening the colouring book, a large number of them had already been started, with scribbles and odd colours escaping the confines of the picture's outline. My eyebrows frowned as I flicked through the book, noticing how the ones towards the back weren't touched while others had been attempted. But I was confused; confused as to why this was here.