Status: Complete :')
Note to Self: Just Breathe
The Morning After
The next morning I woke up, my entire body aching. I gingerly lifted myself up and glanced around my room: my balcony doors were wide open; the cold which was what woke me up, there were dried blood on my bed sheets and fish wire was still attached to certain points of my bed. The belt which Cohen whipped me with me was lying on the floor next to me, and on my bedside table there was £70.
£70 what wasn’t there yesterday.
I slowly stood up from the bed, trying not to move quickly. My feet hit the ground and a sharp pain radiated thorough my body, each step I took towards the bathroom hurt and soon I was stood in front of my mirror. I was still naked, my hair was all over the place and my makeup had run, making me look like a clown. I turned around: bruises and cuts formed on my bottom, dried blood standing out on my translucent, sickly looking skin.
I glanced out a hall window to see all the cars were gone; I was home alone. I grabbed a towel and some clothes, going to the bathroom. I found it difficult to step inside the shower, considering less than 12 hours ago I was being raped in there. I finally managed to turn the water on, and I stood there, shivering even though the water was scolding, with my head bowed and tears streaming down my face.
I had no idea what to do. Should I tell someone or shouldn’t I? I admit I agreed at first but that was the drugs and alcohol speaking. When I told him no he just continued to have sex with me, opting to also beat me and tie me up.
I got the shower gel, empting the whole contents of it onto my body. I scrubbed at my skin ferociously until my skin was red raw and burning from the chemicals in the bottle. I climbed out after about an hour of just standing in the wet, and pulled my joggers and vest top on.
My hair dries pretty quickly and although it dries straight, it goes puffy; so I put in a sloppy pony. I didn’t bother with makeup, I didn’t want it on.
I thought about why my life was so messed up. Without Blake I would be no one, an atom of gas, floating around. It was Blake who would keep me sane—the one who made me eat and the one making sure I was sleeping enough. He stopped me from doing stupid, reckless things and without him I would die within the next week. My life was Blake and my heart was his. I was such a stupid fool to have said yes to Cohen. I was a fool believing nothing bad would happen and a fool for forgetting about Blake.
I sunk down onto my bed, my head hitting the pillow. Fresh tears ran down my face and I didn’t have the energy to wipe at them. I felt so dirty, I would have traded almost anything to take back what I did. But wishes were pointless and happy endings never happened; as I discovered when I told Blake what happened.
£70 what wasn’t there yesterday.
I slowly stood up from the bed, trying not to move quickly. My feet hit the ground and a sharp pain radiated thorough my body, each step I took towards the bathroom hurt and soon I was stood in front of my mirror. I was still naked, my hair was all over the place and my makeup had run, making me look like a clown. I turned around: bruises and cuts formed on my bottom, dried blood standing out on my translucent, sickly looking skin.
I glanced out a hall window to see all the cars were gone; I was home alone. I grabbed a towel and some clothes, going to the bathroom. I found it difficult to step inside the shower, considering less than 12 hours ago I was being raped in there. I finally managed to turn the water on, and I stood there, shivering even though the water was scolding, with my head bowed and tears streaming down my face.
I had no idea what to do. Should I tell someone or shouldn’t I? I admit I agreed at first but that was the drugs and alcohol speaking. When I told him no he just continued to have sex with me, opting to also beat me and tie me up.
I got the shower gel, empting the whole contents of it onto my body. I scrubbed at my skin ferociously until my skin was red raw and burning from the chemicals in the bottle. I climbed out after about an hour of just standing in the wet, and pulled my joggers and vest top on.
My hair dries pretty quickly and although it dries straight, it goes puffy; so I put in a sloppy pony. I didn’t bother with makeup, I didn’t want it on.
I thought about why my life was so messed up. Without Blake I would be no one, an atom of gas, floating around. It was Blake who would keep me sane—the one who made me eat and the one making sure I was sleeping enough. He stopped me from doing stupid, reckless things and without him I would die within the next week. My life was Blake and my heart was his. I was such a stupid fool to have said yes to Cohen. I was a fool believing nothing bad would happen and a fool for forgetting about Blake.
I sunk down onto my bed, my head hitting the pillow. Fresh tears ran down my face and I didn’t have the energy to wipe at them. I felt so dirty, I would have traded almost anything to take back what I did. But wishes were pointless and happy endings never happened; as I discovered when I told Blake what happened.