Eden didn’t know when, why or how, but she was back there again, under the shower, trying to wash herself clean. She didn’t even know when she got home. She was just aware of bending over the toilet to vomit, feeling unwanted hands on her to the point where she snapped.
Unclean. That was what she felt. Disgusting. Used. Pathetic. And no matter how many times the water washed over her, it could not cleanse her. It wasn’t like she wanted to be there, but it was almost like an instinct to be back there, water running over her.
It would have been easier had there been a bathtub, but after what she attempted two years ago, she couldn’t be trusted with one. She didn’t remember exactly, but Eden knew she meant to do that. She knew she had meant to climb into the tub that day, fully aware that she would pass out. That had been the first day she attempted it. And when she and her brother got that apartment, her brother called dibs on the room that had the bathtub. They didn’t think she wouldn’t be so stupid to try it again. They weren’t wrong.
”Ah, I came back specifically for you, but you’ve started to avoid me. Ignore me. Aren’t you getting a little too ahead of yourself?”
She didn’t want to let her fear cloud her judgements. She wanted to show him she wouldn’t cower. She wanted to show him she wasn’t his toy—that she wasn’t his amusement.
Cold hands grabbed her arm before she could walk away, pressing her to the wall. The terror that clouded her prevented her from getting away.
But well, obviously it didn’t work. Within a matter of seconds, he reduced her to the girl she had been two years ago. Afraid. Cowering.
”Eden McArthur. Look at me.”
He touched her again. Even though clothes had prevent direct contact, he touched her again and it was enough for her to hate herself all over again. It was enough for the effort to pick herself up to shatter all over again.
”I don’t want to hurt you, Eden. I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”
And she was back to square one. Hurting herself to numb the pain. Wet, shivering, yet completely numb to everything else. Maybe she was hearing the phone ringing, but she couldn’t bring herself to see to it.
She let out a bitter chuckle, wrapping her arms around her legs, scratching them once again. Then she heard that voice, and she snapped out of it.
“Eden? It’s me.”
Sterling. What was he doing here? Oh. She had promised to text him once she got home, but she never did. Eden slowly picked herself off the shower floor, wet hair clinging to her back. She reached for the towel, wrapped it around herself and shakily walked to the door. She opened it without another thought, finding her forehead pressed against his chest.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore,” she whispered, shivering. Was it from fear, or the cold? She had no idea anymore. Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “I wanted to get his touches off of me, but no matter how hard I scrub… I can’t.”