Daydream

Our house isn’t brand new, if anything, it’s far from it. The one good thing about it is that we have a nice sized bathroom. I’ve called it my bathroom for years since I’m the only one who used it. Greg and Mom use the one in their room. I closed the door behind me and turned to look it. After I’ve checked that the lock is secured I turned the shower on.

As steam billowed around me, I pulled my dress over my head. I threw it into the hamper and stared at myself in the mirror. I forced myself to look at myself, really look at myself. I can see why Mom was so concerned now.

My hair is a rats nest and my cheek is swollen and it’s already began to turn purple. It’s puffy and my eyes are bloodshot from all the crying I did while beneath Dylan. My lip is cut and dry. A bruise on my neck reminded me of where his hand held me down and hickeys littered my neck.

A reminder I didn’t need. Steam covered me and began to fog up the mirror. I watched my eyes teared up until I couldn’t see myself any