Billowing steam filled the cramped shower stall, although the water felt chillingly cold. The water stung the fresh scratches and bruises on my legs and arms as I tried to rinse the feeling of haunting guilt away.
Water droplets slowly slid down the tile, mocking the tears that streamed down my face. I held my head underneath the flow of water, hoping that it would somehow cleanse my mind of the memories of last night. Her presence felt strange as she embraced me, held me down, and tore into my flesh.
I felt as though she was trying to mark me, to claim me as hers. Either that, or she was ripping at my flesh in attempts to scar my soul. Lucky for her, the damage was already done.
My body quivered at the temperature of the scalding hot water. My skin, flushed with red, begged for mercy as I subjected it to torture for the second time in a span of a few hours. I examined each scratch on my seemingly flawless skin, and let out a painful scream directed towards my own conscious.
I don't know how to explain what happened, or how I allowed myself to become trapped in my own fear. I remember, lying there, helpless and paralyzed as she inflicted me with wounds. I felt as though I was engaging in some ritualistic sacrifice, silent and unable to stop the music that cued my damnable fate.
I left the bathroom, draped in fatigue, to find her lying across the bed with a teasing smile across her face. I walked towards her, and kissed her painfully hoping she could feel every ounce of hurt she had given me.
As her body shook and her moans of pleasure became louder, I prayed that I pleased the her that overwhelmed me last night. I didn't want to meet her again.
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