avantgarde_muse [Application] When she wakes up...
When Kaydee wakes up in the morning...
She doesn't sleep much at night anymore. Never longer than five hours each night. If she stays asleep any longer than that, she starts dreaming of him. Her subconscious mind starts to fill in details and while her imagination makes things up. The results are nightmares unlike even the worst nightmares she had as a kid. When her eyes open, the sun hasn't come up yet and her bedroom is still bathed in pitch black. She can make out the hazy shadows of her furniture and she lingers in bed. Every morning, she's torn between not getting up and spending the day locked in her bathroom.
Today, she pulls herself out of bed and does what she does every morning. She starts the shower running, turning the water to as hot a temperature as she can tolerate and then makes it just a touch hotter. She strips down, dropping her pajamas into a pile on the shaggy pink rug. She stands in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and stares at herself. She imagines his hands on her body and it makes her nauseous. She imagines his lips touching her in places that were sacred and it brings tears to her eyes. She doesn't have to imagine the swell of her abdomen and the threatening tears turn into sobs. She tries desperately to ignore the growing bump, hiding her body under clothing that is far too big, never discussing and avoiding answering probing questions. But every morning, before she showers, she stares at her belly unable to ignore it while she stands naked, safely locked in her bathroom. She steps into the shower and cringes as the water burns her skin. It scalds and numbs her. That's when she starts trying to scrub all traces of him from her body. She never gets completely clean. She can't wash away her belly. She can't scrub the violation from her memory.
She doesn't sleep much at night anymore. Never longer than five hours each night. If she stays asleep any longer than that, she starts dreaming of him. Her subconscious mind starts to fill in details and while her imagination makes things up. The results are nightmares unlike even the worst nightmares she had as a kid. When her eyes open, the sun hasn't come up yet and her bedroom is still bathed in pitch black. She can make out the hazy shadows of her furniture and she lingers in bed. Every morning, she's torn between not getting up and spending the day locked in her bathroom.
Today, she pulls herself out of bed and does what she does every morning. She starts the shower running, turning the water to as hot a temperature as she can tolerate and then makes it just a touch hotter. She strips down, dropping her pajamas into a pile on the shaggy pink rug. She stands in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and stares at herself. She imagines his hands on her body and it makes her nauseous. She imagines his lips touching her in places that were sacred and it brings tears to her eyes. She doesn't have to imagine the swell of her abdomen and the threatening tears turn into sobs. She tries desperately to ignore the growing bump, hiding her body under clothing that is far too big, never discussing and avoiding answering probing questions. But every morning, before she showers, she stares at her belly unable to ignore it while she stands naked, safely locked in her bathroom. She steps into the shower and cringes as the water burns her skin. It scalds and numbs her. That's when she starts trying to scrub all traces of him from her body. She never gets completely clean. She can't wash away her belly. She can't scrub the violation from her memory.