---- 4_Don't look, and it will go away. Faith It took longer than expected, but we made it to the bathroom. Each step was agonisingly slow, really adding emphasis to the damage caused. Unfortunately, | didn't make it further than the toilet seat. My fingers only just manage to grip the lid of the toilet and rip it open just in time. My knees hit the cold, hard tiles, only adding to my torture. | ended up vomiting what felt like a week's worth of meals and some stomach acid. To make matters worse, my mind kept tossing around my father's words, which did nothing but force more out of me. My body didn't stop convulsing until the kind maid handed me a glass of water to calm my insides. | accept the glass, while leaning heavily against the wall next to the toilet. It's with shaking hands, and little help from the maid, ---- that | manage to get any in my mouth. My hands won't stop their violent shaking, no matter how much | will the tremors to stop. The woman must be a godsend because she held my hair and kept rubbing my back in circles. Having her by my side at a moment like this means a lot to me. She will never be able to understand how truly grateful | am for her presence. Even if it wasn't for the terrible things my father did and made happen, the fact that I'm not okay and someone stays by my side is enough. That there is someone who cares about me when I'm at my worst, instead of someone who only seeks me out when it's convenient for them. "You should take a shower," her kind voice reaches me, but | can't find the strength to reply. Even speaking seems like a difficult chore at this point. At least now, she's addressing the issue as something | need, not something | could do to get rid of the invisible filth that covers my skin, making it crawl. ---- She helps me up and drags me towards the bath. Once she sets me to sit at the edge of the tub, she reaches for my clothes. I'm not wearing much, just a long T-shirt that most likely isn't mine and a pair of socks. If | had a little more energy, | would laugh at the irony. Aman, who accepted my father's money to rob me of the most precious thing | had, had enough humanity in him to ensure | don't leave the place naked. | bet he's feeling like a true hero. Oh, how | wish | could look into his eyes and tell him every little thing | feel. Scream at him for ruining me. Hit him until | have no strength left in me, so he would experience a tiny fracture of the torment | underwent with him in that room. Destroy him the way he destroyed me. I'm pulled out of my thoughts only when | notice slight movement in front of me. First, the maid slides off one sock and gasps. My gaze wanders down my legs, and finally, | can take in the damage myself. ---- The dried blood that covers my inner thighs doesn't surprise me, but the bruises around my ankles do. They are massive and swollen. My skin looks so bad, | could claim | was imprisoned and held hostage for months, and people would believe me. No wonder walking hurts so much. | remain silent as the Maid asks me to lift my arms. With much difficulty, | do, and as soon as the shirt is off, she starts to cry - ugly crying with snot and hiccups. She looks like someone just killed the only person she has ever loved. | suppose everything looks worse from her point of view than it does from mine. I'm not happy, | couldn't be, yet still, | force a smile on my lips to make her feel a little better. "It's all right. Don't look, and it will go away," | whisper, forcing down the bile that rises up my throat. Maybe I'm the one who needs someone to reassure me, but it looks like she needs the support more than | do. Who knows, perhaps Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!