The bathroom is filled with steam and even after a hot shower, I still feel cold. I tightly wrap the bathrobe I find around me and hurry to dry my hair. I am nothing but a shell on autopilot. I am exhausted and even if clean of mud, my legs still feel like they are weighted down. I have stopped crying after I exited the shower and now my eyes stung and felt dry. My nose was still stuffy and I felt out of touch with reality itself.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, but I don’t truly see myself. Wasn’t I supposed to be dead? Why did he save me? Why was I here? What was the purpose of this madness?!
The more I think of it, the more I spiral out of touch with myself and reality. When I walk out of the bathroom, hair still slightly damp, I find him there. He is standing in the doorfr
