Where I Was Before You

48. let off some steam

I'm standing in the mirror. Steam fogging up the glass from the shower. I can barely see myself, but even at that, I know the girl in the mirror isn't me. The real me would never have done this. The real me would have never gone through with this plan. The real me would never grab Freddie like that unless I was sure it was what I wanted. And I wasn't sure. I was never ever sure. I always knew that he didn't actually care for me. And as much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn't.

I move away from the mirror and step into the shower. The water is too hot, but I don't touch the knob. My skin can burn for all I care. I let the water run down my face, bring my hands up and scrub at it. I feel his tongue in my mouth, and I open my mouth to rinse it, letting the water collect so I can gargle and spit it back out. I run my hands down my neck, and feel his kisses, his nibbles, I grab a soap bar and start to scrub.

My breasts are full of filth. Kisses, touches, groping. I grab my body brush and start to scrub faster and faster. My waist has fingerprints all over it. I want them all gone, I want it all gone.

"Get off.. get out..." I mumble as I scrub even harder. This is torture. All I can picture are his hands, his hands that I used to worship, used to love and pray to be able to hold and touch. Now I wanted to get them out of my memory. I wanted to banish them from my mind. But even if I managed not to think about them, I could still feel them. They were all over me.

It hurts, but I can't stop. I scrub lower and down to my underwear line. It's the dirtiest place on me. I scrub and scrub and go back up and around. It stings so bad, oh god it stings.

"Freddie..." I mumble, and I finally stop. I've broken down. I slide my back down against the shower walls and grab my knees, hiding my head in my knees and just sit there. My stomach churns and I don't want to move. I let the hot water scold my raw skin, and the pain is a nice distraction.

Suddenly, all I think about are my hands, and what they've touched. What Freddie made me touch. Of course, it wasn't like I hadn't felt it before, but he put my hand inside his pants. I could actually feel it.

I felt sick to my stomach, and all I wanted to do was lay there.

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My footsteps were so light, or at least I was trying to make them light, as I slowly began ascending the stairs. I just wanted sleep, I wanted to lie down on my bed and close my eyes. Pretend that none of this had happened. Not just today, but any of this. I wanted so badly to wake up, and walk over to find my sisters room in the overly tidy state it always is, rather than the unorganised trash pit Fred has turned it into. You can't even see the floor anymore, it's covered with mine and his and my sister's clothes. Does he ever wash clothes? It's like he just takes them off and leaves it for a couple of days before he finds a new outfit to pair it with.

I'm about halfway up the stairs. I've spent the last hour either crying on the couch, or in the shower. My skin was so red, and I was already starting to dry up. I didn't have any moisturiser in my room, but I didn't care. I just wanted sleep, sleep and have the possibility of dreaming. Have a dream where maybe none of this had happened, and I could wake up believing that that was true.

I reach the top of the stairs and don't want to let myself look back at that room. I tell myself I'm gonna walk straight to my room and close the door. I could cry all I wanted in there. I could cry all night.

Something tugs at my chest, and almost commands me to stop. I'm two steps away from my door, but all I can do is stand and stare at it. What was happening, why can't I move?

"Nice night for crying in the shower, isn't it?" My blood runs cold. I don't even want to look at him. I just keep staring and the door. Wanting so badly to open it, go inside, slam it and never open it again.

"I-."

"Oh no no! Please let me speak." Freddie commands. And I hold my tongue. My legs start shaking, and I realise that snapping out of this wasn't an option anymore.

"Mandy." I can tell he wants me to look at him, but I can't. I couldn't if my life depended on it.

"If you, and your oh-so heightened judge of character, had me all figured out obviously long before you even kissed me in the first place, can you tell me why you continued to lead me on today?" He takes a step toward me, and my breath falters. I shudder and I try to lift my legs, but of course, it's no use.

"Why did you let me kiss you, and why did you touch me, and why did you do all of those... SH*TTY F*CKING things... if you absolutely knew for a fact that I don't give an sh*t about you?" There was no hope in me answering that question. My tongue was frozen along with the rest of me.

He takes another step towards me, and I begin to shake all over, hands gripped into fists by my side.

"Mandy..." He coos. I close my eyes tight and pretend he's not there. Freddie grabs my arm and pulls me over to him. He was insane. He had gone f*cking insane.

"ANSWER ME." He boomed. I bit my lips and stared back into his cold, uncaring eyes.

"I don't f*cking know! I'm a b*tch! That's why!"

"Jesus Christ... Will you stop acting and be yourself for ONE goddamn minute?!" He holds me tighter and it starts to hurt, my skin was already burning, this just made it 1000X worse.

"Let go of me you-!"

"BITCH!" Freddie screams in my face. I would have just slapped him or kicked him and tried to run away, but this person.. this person wasn't Freddie. I didn't know who I was dealing with.

"ANSWER MY F*CKING QUESTION MANDY."

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO SEE IF YOU WERE JUST TRYING TO GET IN MY PANTS! Alright?! Is that good enough for you, you f*cking ASSHOLE!?" Freddie lets go of me and I stumble back. I still can't walk right, but under some miracle, I can balance myself.

Freddie scoffs and steps back.

"'Asshole'. Right. I'm the f*cking asshole. Have a pleasant evening Mandy." And with that, he's gone. I'm so expecting a crash, or a thud from something breaking, that when all I'm graced with is silence, it scares me more than a reaction would. I have to stand there for 5 minutes before I can actually breathe, and finally regain some feeling and control over my legs.

I walk into my room, and quietly shut the door. I stare into my empty room and feel nothing. I calmly lay myself down on top of the covers. I lie on my side and stare at my wall. I breathe out and expect there to be tears, but there's nothing. Absolutely nothing.