He left the room.
Emma could still feel their filthy touch on her skin, it was sickening her, she needed to get their touch off of her body, and without thinking much, she limped to the restroom, locking the door she got rid of her clothes and turned on the shower.
Her eyes closed shut in pain when the water washed over the cut on her forehead and lower lip. The rusted blood; now washing away.
She vigorously rubbed her arms, and her chest where she felt their touch. She was scrubbing so roughly that her skin became raw and tender but she could care less. Her big fat tears mixed with water as they continued to fall.
She was loathing herself, why all of this was happening to her again. Wasn't one trauma enough for a lifetime that she had to face another one?
But she was glad, so thankfu
