The thought of his fingerprints still lingering on her, invisible yet seared into her very bones, made her gag as she stumbled toward the shower, desperate to strip herself of every last memory, of every sickening touch, even if it meant scraping her own flesh raw.
Her hands moved in a frenzied, almost inhuman rhythm, gripping the loofah so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her nails digging into her own skin as she attacked herself under the scalding cascade of the shower.
She scrubbed her body with such desperation, such violence, that angry red lines started blooming across her delicate skin, the rawness adding another layer to the physical agony.
Tears mixed with the steaming water as she furiously scrubbed at the bite marks marring her neck and shoulders, as if she could some
