Never Run

011 ::: Never Assume

However, the rage beat out any other emotion and my hands shot out to grab anything I could, gripped it in my hands and threw it across the bathroom. I repeated this process over and over: towels, soap, toilet paper, everything that could be thrown was. Nothing was safe. My hands wrapped around the cold and hard cover to the toilet tank. I chucked the thick ceramic top across the room and shattered the bottom right corner of the mirror, shards falling to the ground like droplets from a weak cloud.

The crass noise broke me out of my tunnel vision of rage and anger, subsiding quickly and being replaced immediately with grief. He had attacked me, he had forced himself upon me, granted it could've been worse, but I still didn't want what he did to me. I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want him. I didn't want this life.

I sunk to my knees before completely crumbling to the ground in a pathetic heap of misery, clutching my knees to my chest and was overcome with sobs. Loud, gross, ugly sobs continuously poured from my throat with no sign of stopping. What had I done to deserve this fate? I didn't think I was a terrible person, but maybe somewhere along my life I hadn't been a good human and did deserve what was happening to me. Maybe I deserved it from the moment I stole that bread for my family.

I wasn't sure how long I laid on the floor crying, but I was pleased that no one attempted to interrupt my own personal break down. I cried and shouted and begged and tore at my hair with gaps of quietness and becoming lost in my deep thoughts only to start up again with my sobs. Eventually, the sobbing dissolved into weak hiccups, stray tears rolling down my face at times, my face wet with different bodily fluids. Lazily, my eyes inspected the destroyed bathroom, taking in all the damage I had inflicted during my moment of an angry haze. Things were broken and torn throughout the bathroom: towels lay strewn across the floor, shampoo was pooled underneath a cracked bottle, pieces of the mirror and toilet cover littered the ground, the sharp edges glistening in the light.

Wait.

My eyes widened and I hurriedly pulled myself from the floor and slide over to wear the broken shards rested. I studied the different fragments, my hands carefully, gently checking each piece, turning them over between my fingers. Examining each one until I found the perfect portion, not too small and not too big, ideal for what it would be needed for. I held it in my hand and softly pressed the tip to the pad of my finger. Deliberately, I applied a touch more force, piercing my skin in the slightest, drawing a sliver of bright red liquid. With a low gasp, I wiped my finger on my shirt and smiled.

It was perfect.

Now I just had to figure out where to hide it for when I was ready. I scoured the bathroom for the perfect hiding spot; I wasn't going to risk leaving the bathroom to find a spot in case someone was waiting on the other side of the door. If they caught me then my plan would be ruined. I submerged it into the toilet tank before gingerly placing the lid back on. I scooped up the rest of the pieces and deposited them into the garbage before tidying up the rest of the bathroom.

After placing everything back in its rightful place, I grabbed the bathroom doorknob hesitating on opening the door. I wasn't sure what was waiting for me in the next room and I wasn't sure if I was ready to face it, but I needed to get out of the bathroom. I was beginning to feel like I couldn't breathe. With one last deep breath, I pushed the door open, truly expecting to see Xaler, but to my surprise, the room was empty.