You're beautiful

I was thankful the kitchen was empty. Someone had humiliated me on purpose, and advertising the fact was the last thing I wanted.

Removing my socks and shoes so as not to leave a muddy trail, I padded barefoot up to my room and then finished stripping off my filthy garments.

Setting them in a pile on the floor, I went to clean up. After turning on the shower, with a gloomy stare I peered in the mirror while waiting for the water to heat up.

The stones had stung as they hit my face and I wanted to check the extent of the damage. Sure enough, there was dried blood on my cheek. I probed the cut carefully judging its severity.

I opened the medicine cabinet and found some antiseptic and dabbed the punctured skin, grimacing as the liquid stung my damaged flesh.

A quick perusal, I found no other injuries beyond my bruised pride. Checking my appearance once more, I decided a casual observer wouldn't notice the wound, which in my mind was a good thing.

I didn't want a lot of people questioning