Steam was already rising in the bathroom, curling softly into the air, wrapping the room in warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold that still clung to my skin.
I hesitated.
For a moment, I just stood there—uncertain, exhausted, trying to steady my breathing.
Then slowly, carefully, I began to move.
I peeled the soaked hoodie off first, wincing as the damp fabric tugged against my injured knees when I bent slightly to pull it over my head.
The movement sent a sharp pulse of pain through my body, and I had to pause, biting back a sound.
Next came the leggings.
They clung stubbornly to my skin, sticking to dried blood and tender flesh.
I had to peel them off inch by inch, every movement sending tiny shocks of pain through my legs.
I gritted my teeth, breathing unevenly as I finally freed them and dropped them to the floor.
Last came my underwear.
My hands trembled as I removed it, my fingers carefu, as though even the slightest movement might break something else inside me.
Naked.
Exposed.
Cold air brushed against my skin, and I shivered instantly, my body instinctively curling inward as I stood there for a moment, vulnerable and raw.
Then, with a deep, shaky breath, I stepped forward.
Into the shower.
The moment the hot water hit my skin, I flinched.
It stung—sharp and immediate—especially where my knees were torn and sensitive.
My breath caught, my shoulders tensing as the water lashed against me, each drop like a reminder of what I’d just endured.
But slowly...
It eased.
The initial sting softened into something warmer, something almost soothing.
The heat seeped into my muscles, easing some of the tension that had been locked inside me for so long.
I let out a shaky breath.
Then another.
My hands braced lightly against the wall as I tilted my head forward, letting the water cascade down my hair, over my face, washing away the dirt, the blood, the fear that clung to me.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Eyes closed.
Breathing uneven but steadying.
