Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

A large part of me didn't want to wake up in the morning. I told Nick and myself that last night never happened. I wanted that to be true. However, I could still feel the touch of Andy's friends on my skin. I could still feel the body heat of the crowd of people I ran through trying to escape my panic. I tried to sleep longer, but sleep evaded me. 

I woke up, not wasting a second to take a towel from the linen closet and get into the bathroom for a shower. The room was dark, the entire apartment was dark. It was early. I didn't know how early it was, but I didn't care. I leaned over into the tub and turned the knob on the faucet. I knew the temperature I preferred, but I needed it warmer. I needed the water to be scalding. I needed to be clean again.  

As I waited for the water temperature to rise I took off my clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror, naked, nothing hiding me from myself. I had a yellow bruise where Andy held my arm the night before. I hadn't worn make up yesterday, but I still had stains on my face from the tears. My eyes were red and I had bags under them that were worse than usual. I didn't move. I merely stared at myself until the steam from the hot water began to cloud my reflection.  

I tore myself away from the blurry image and I took a step into the shower. It was hot, hotter than I was used to, hotter than what I knew to be safe. I didn't care. I stepped in with my other foot, allowing the steaming water to fall all over me. It hurt, but I knew that meant it was working. I began to cry because of the pain, but I didn't get out. As I rubbed my skin with a cloth it became red and raw, it stung.  

I raised my arm, the one with the bruise. I stared at it for a few seconds, sickened by its existence. I hated having visual proof that someone had laid their hands on me. I took the cloth in my other hand and began scrubbing back and forth aggressively, trying to hold back tears. My arm became more and more red, until the bruise was no longer visible.  

Bruises don't instantly go away. I was not dumb enough to believe that. I knew the relief was only temporary, but I crumpled down to the floor of the shower when I couldn't see it anymore. I let the tears fall. I didn't want to be this person anymore, someone who finds relief in raw and irritated skin. I wanted to find intimacy and comfort in someone's touch. 

The minutes ticked by and the temperature of the water dropped as the hot water ran out. When it became too cold to bear I was torn from my thoughts. I stood up and turned off the water. I wrapped myself in my towel and walked cautiously to my room. The last thing I wanted to see was Nick or Andy, or even my mother.  

Upon entering my room I locked the door behind me. The towel fell to the floor and I was once again left alone in my naked state. My skin was still crimson, but I felt better. It was almost as if the touches from last night had faded away, though not from my memory. I put on some jeans and a t-shirt and sat down on my bed. I closed my eyes and lay back. 

"Don't worry. I won't leave you behind, I promise," Nicky had said. 

"You better not, or I'll tell your mom." I told him playfully. We walked down the street, hand in hand toward the park with the swings. "I call the swing on the left!" 

"Oh no you don't!" He yelled playfully as he separated our hands. He ran ahead of me to the park which was still a hundred or so feet away from me. I couldn't see him anymore, even as I became closer to the swings. 

"Nicky?" No answer. It was quiet. The sun was setting and there were no people nearby, no cars, nothing. I became nervous and scared. "Nicky, where are you?" 

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching me from behind. Before I could turn around, someone had their hand around my small waste. In my shock and fear I screamed. 

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