The Velvet Room | ✔

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖤𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇

I laid there. Laid there in my own filth. Paralyzed. The shower was running in the background but my eyes stayed locked on the white ceiling above.

Everything hurt so badly. Feeling like I had just been rammed by a truck over and over. Even the slightest of movement brought an ache to my frail body.

"Reyna, you sure you don't want to join?" His hand grazed my cheek, head blocking my view above and replacing it with his face. But my mind just blurred him - refusing to let me look at him and barely even hear his voice. Soon he was gone again.

The red flags were burned to a crisp, laying in ashes on the tattered ground. But there was still that bell.

It told me to get out; leave now.

My purse, my clothes, I gathered them all, fumbling with the works of my clothing as I could barely lift a limb. But I didn't care. I needed to leave. That was the only thing my brain seemed to agree on.

The crisp air bit at my exposed flesh since I hadn't even bothered to put a shirt on - just my jacket and zipping it up all the way.

I didn't know what to do - didn't even know if I could get a cab at this time of night and the walk would be long. For a moment I considered calling Aiden or Lisa. But I knew with the shape I was in I would be bombarded with endless questions that I didn't know if I could answer.

I walked awhile, maybe an hour and a half, most likely more, in the cold night when I finally was able to make it back to the city. It hurt. It hurt so so fucking much. Just to walk.

With each step came a limp and a whimper but I pushed through the best that I could to make it back.

Cars bustled along the street in a not so orderly fashion but in the midsts, I was able to find a cab rolling along the sidewalk.

I called out sick for the rest of the week the next morning, knowing full well my body wouldn't be able to handle the pressure of my job, and my mental health wouldn't be able to keep up with a forced attire. I just couldn't deal with it nor did I want to. It was probably the best choice.

Winston was understanding, of course, I didn't bring myself to the full reasoning he seemed convinced and uncaring with the simple excuse that I had caught a cold, which I was thankful for nonetheless.

When I got home, I had no clue what to think about everything, I was confused as ever and my intoxication didn't do me well. But the first thing I did was bolt my door shut; the knob, deadbolt, and the chain before kicking my heels off my feet. I stopped for a second, looking over the depths of darkness that filled my apartment, and simply took a deep breath. My lip wobbled, but I forced myself not to cry and took a few shaky steps forward.

What...what just happened?

Did he...

My feet carried me sluggishly into the bathroom, where I didn't even know if it was worth it to look in the mirror. But I couldn't help but look.

It didn't even look like...me.

My hair once in a bun was completely disheveled and taken down; my mascara and lipstick smudged and my face looked disgustingly dirty.

"You really like it rough, don't you sugar?"

The tips of my fingers grazed the reddish spots on my jawline and cheeks, trailing down to my neck that held a similar color.

My face was bad, but blemishes and bruises still covered the rest of my body. Bite marks even appeared on my shoulder and breast.

Please don't cry! Please!

But I could see the color wash away from my eyes, the sparkle of light dancing in them mockingly as tears brimmed my eyes with the thoughts that circled my mind. It took that one tear that decided to slide its way down my cheek, that singular tear, to have a whole flood of sobs erupt from my body in such a heavy motion.

I couldn't hold it in any longer; from the feeling that lurked on my skin, the images that rooted themselves in my mind that I knew I would never forget.

My hands tangled in my hair, looking away from the horrid reflection that stared back at me and said what have you done? What did you let him do?!

My back hit the door and I slid down like a pile of rocks hitting rock bottom.

What did I do? What did I do?!

I just continued to shake my head, sinking farther and farther into my knees.

"Show me baby, show me how you take it,"

"Fuck you're so tight sugar,"

Stop it, stop it! Stop thinking about it!

I just need to clear my head.

Even with how much my body protested with the aching and soreness it possessed, I forced myself back to my feet with the idea of a long shower.

The warmth did well to soothe and massage my body, water pelting down onto my skin like gentle drops of rain. My body swayed, eyes closed, and feeling how dizzy I still seemed to be. I couldn't wait just to crawl into bed and curl up for the remainder of the night and most of the day. Sleep begged to overtake me.

The shower was briefer than I had liked, mostly because I just wanted to go to bed so I forced myself out.

I couldn't help but take another look into the mirror as if it was calling out to me.

My hair landed just below my ribs.

Eyes flickering along the strands I reached out and grazed my scalp. I could feel it. Him. How he grabbed my hair multiple times. How he used to play with a strand when talking to me. I could feel it all.

In a drunken movement filled with hate, I pulled open the top drawer and there lied a pair of scissors with my name on them.

I chopped, I sliced, staring into my own eyes that stayed bloodshot as more tears fell. My wet hair fell to my feet, some landing in the sink. I didn't even care if it was even. Didn't care how I would look or how I would feel when I woke up in the morning and saw the rash decision I had made.

The scissors clinked against the marble counter when I finally sat them down, seeing my hair now rest a bit below my shoulders.

It's okay. I tried to tell myself, tried to calm my pounding heart while I left the bathroom. The only thing I bothered to put on was a shirt, too exhausted to try and find anything else.

My head felt more light with the brisk change and it gave a momentary relief. The first relief I had felt all night.

But it collapsed as I closed my eyes, and everything replayed over and over again.