Her Tormentor

Lukewarm water slid over freezing skin, soaking into open pore only to find icy blood. It flowed in icy rivulets, trapped inside a broken body. An arm rose, causing a thin curtain of water to cascade beneath and through the waterfall pale skin radiated an eerie glow, while malevolent shadows danced on white tile walls: their forked tongues licking up stray droplets. Long fingers traced along the brown-streaked bottom of the bathtub and overhead artificial light flickered unsteadily, periodically letting darkness take control. The room was deathly silent and yet roared with the ethereal cries of suppressed thoughts.

Slowly, the figure rose, intricate designs shimmering as they rushed down angular bones. Her delicate feet exited the water, the bathroom rug tickling her arches and the water evaporated on her shivering frame. Yet, like always, she noticed nothing. Her eyes were glazed like glassy frosting upon an uneaten cupcake. A finger twitched. Then her eyes closed, as she tried to shut out what was burned into her mind. The truth in the mirror – distorted by a silent tormenter, endearing only to the innocent.

As much as she tied, her captor would never go. Flowing with rivulets of purple, it left a inky trail to dissipate between white bones and dark tissue, gradually filling her broken body.

Her arm rose once again, but this time no water streamed beneath. In her clenched fist was glinting silver –  and once again the girl tried to rid her body of the poison left behind by her tormentor.

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