Wash

You never think it will happen to you.

You hear stories and share in the experience of others. You feel bad for them, tell them you understand what they're going through. It's a lie, of course, a desperate attempt to lessen the severity of the situation to appease your own selfish discomfort.

Then the unthinkable happens.

And you don't know how to continue on with your life because the guilt, fear, and pain has soaked into your skin, branding you with a mark you can't scrub off.

I thought I was going to die in that alleyway, but Sebastian Black saved my life. A loner, he walked the streets late at night listening to music through his headphones, his hands buried deep in his jeans. A punk, his clothes were always one size too big, never clean or crisp, and lacked coordination, but he wore them like Gucci.

A hero.
My hero.
The only one who can heal me and show me how to wash it all off.