Warrior

11

Warning: themes of sexual trauma are covered in this chapter - reader's discretion is advised

~

"Get over here, Khushi!"

"Get over here you bitch!"

"I'm gonna fuck your tight cunt until you faint!"

I wake up with a scream, sitting up immediately. At first, I'm terrified, looking for a way out or a place to hide, but it slowly registers in my brain that I'm in my room, alone.

He's not here.

I let out a heavy sigh, pushing my hair out of my face. Looking down at myself, I remember that I didn't change out of my clothes, so I get up and go to my closet. When I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I can't help but to stare. My eyes are wide, still terrified. My makeup was messed up, but I couldn't give a single shit about it. Instead, I grabbed a hair tie and put my hair up in a messy bun, then reached back and unzip my dress. Brushing the straps off of my shoulders, it puddled down to the floor and I stepped out of it. Again, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. As I looked at myself, flashes of my bruised body from two years ago, cross my mind. Even though it's been so long, I still vividly remember the marks and the cuts. 

Prints of where his fingers tightly and aggressively grabbed my breasts, were still etched in my mind. Dark marks from the way he tightly gripped my waist, were still etched in my mind. Bruises and cuts from the way he bit my neck, were still etched in my mind. The way his mouth and tongue tried to ravage on my body, was still etched in my mind. The way his fingers almost touched me, was still etched in my mind.

Looking at myself in the mirror, it  seemed like all of those marks were back. It seemed like it was on me and I started rubbing at myself, trying to get rid of it, but nothing was happening. I quickly went running into the bathroom, heading straight for the shower, and turned the water on. No matter how hard I rubbed, it wasn't going away! I grabbed my body wash and squeezed a bunch of it out until it covered my whole palm, and rubbed it all over me, scrubbing hard to get rid of it.

Get it off! Get it off! Just please, go away!!

Tears start to stream down my cheeks as I wail, the sound getting drowned out with the water. My legs started to give out on me and I collapsed to the floor, screaming as the water poured over me.

It won't go away! None of it will go away!

I balled up on the shower floor, shaking and shuddering as I cried, soap suds surrounding me and getting in my hair.

I don't know how long I stayed like this. When the tears stopped, all I did was blankly stare forward, listening to the pit-pattering of the water. At one point, my body began to feel sore, begging for movement. So slowly, I picked myself up, still sitting on the shower floor. I didn't have that much energy yet, so I remained seated, properly washing myself up, as well as my hair. When I'm done, I finally muster up the energy to stand up, turn off the water, and exit the shower. I grab my robe and put it on, then head into the closet. This time when I see my reflection, nothing is triggered. All I see back is my reflection, and I look like shit. My leftover makeup was smeared, giving me raccoon eyes, so I quickly worked to remove it. Once that was done and I was moisturized, I grabbed a towel and squeezed the excess water in my hair out, then went to blow dry it a little. Then I reached into one of my wardrobes and grabbed some sweatpants, a t-shirt, and zip-up hoodie, and put them on.

My stomach suddenly started growling, so I headed on downstairs. The house was quiet, no doubt everyone still sleeping. When I reached the bottom of the steps, I looked at the clock on the wall to see that it was a little after six.