Eleven

I took an exceptionally long shower, possibly the longest I have ever taken in my life. Standing there with the hot water kneading my sore muscles was therapy I didn’t know I needed. It felt so good to wash away all the dirt that had collected on my body, but as I watched the soap suds up on my skin while I scrubbed I imagined I was also scrubbing out all the bad that I’d endured living with my uncle, every insult, every bit of loneliness and unworthiness I was made to feel daily. By letting all that ugliness float free of my body and head straight down the drain, I felt truly clean, and when I finally stepped out of the shower and onto the bathroom’s fluffy yellow rug, I felt a lot more like myself than I had in an awfully long time.

I dried off my body and put my hair up in a towel, then wrapped the borrowed robe around my body before stepping out into the hall. The house was silent and dark, I guessed Elle must have gone off to bed, the only visible light