Lilium

Eight

She knew that Marlene felt bad about it. She never said his name around Lilith, even if she was on the topic. If Russle brought him up, he was quickly silenced. Lilith was grateful for that.

Marlene was also a good cook. Compared to Russle, who couldn't even scramble eggs to save his life, this was a nice change. There'd been many a night recently where Lilith would come home to one of Marlene's new experimental dishes.

There was also the instances after therapists three and five had passed that Marlene had supported her.

"You don't have to keep going if you don't want to," she'd said. Something told Lilith that Marlene was the only one she knew who really understood the gravity of the situation Lilith had been forced into.

But that didn't matter. Lilith kept going back, again and again and again.

Isn't that insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again, expecting something different?

She poured bodywash along both arms before running a stream of it down her chest. As the showerhead continued to pour down water, Lilith smoothed out the soup until she was covered in strawberry suds. Then she rinsed.

Marlene was change. This sort of change was good.

Lilith bent her head and scratched at her scalp, mussing up her short hair under the constant stream of water. When she was satisfied by the amount of burning at the back of her skull, she crouched down and shut off the faucets. Steam surrounded her on all sides, thinning out as she stepped out of the shower and onto the drying mat. Droplets of water fell from her fingertips and the ends of her hair, making pitter-patter sounds on the linoleum.

The towels hung on the rack by the door. Lilith pulled off hers, minty-green in color and unusually fluffy, and wrapped it around herself. Then she went for the mirror. Blackheads dotted her nose and chin when she examined herself and she made a noise of disgust in the back of her throat. When she pulled back the mirror, her familiar bottle of facewash was nowhere to be seen.

Odd. She frowned, scanning the three shelves again and again. I must've run out... She swung the medicine cabinet door shut and huffed, blowing wet strands of hair out of her face. She leaned forward and examined her face more closely.

"Hey, sweetheart," said her dad from the other side. Lilith looked to the door, her heart skipping a beat.

"H-hi."

"Don't take too long, alright? Breakfast is almost done."

"Okay." Morning to you, too. "I'll be done soon." She wrinkled her nose and ran both hands over her face, tracing the miniscule bumps with her fingers.

I'll have to remind dad to get me more stuff, I guess.

She left the bathroom and went for her room across the hall, holding the ends of her towel in a death grip.

In five minutes, she managed to get herself dressed and her hair somewhat dry and manageable. There was a knock on the door just as she finished buttoning up her jeans.

"Sweetheart, are you ready?"

Lilith mussed with her hair as she crossed the room, her feet slapping against the floorboards. Her toes dipped into the many puddles she'd created.

"Lilith?"

"Coming."

She swung the door open and leaned against the doorframe, cocking her head to the side. Her father pressed his lips together and smiled, but Lilith could tell that it wasn't sincere.