Page 57 of Tangled in Knots

Crawling, I can feel hot tears rising behind my eyes as I shove open the toilet, rising onto my knees as bile and something even worse pours out of my mouth.

It burns, my throat throbs as it ejects the bodily fluid from my mouth, and all I can do is endure it.

Gasping and crying in pain, I hold onto the bowl as I puke. The thought of their taste in my mouth and their cum makes me sob as I struggle to keep as quiet as possible. I don’t want Pack Kelly to see me like this, breaking and destroyed.

Spitting into the bowl, I flush the toilet with trembling fingers. Getting up from the cold tile floor is a struggle, but I manage to leverage myself until I’m holding my body up with my upper arms.

My face is covered with dried body fluid, and I need it off me immediately. Running water from the faucet, I pump some hand soap into my hand, uncaring that it’s probably terrible for my skin.

It could remove a layer of it for all I care, and it would probably be an improvement at this point.

My other hand cups under the running water to get my face wet and then I’m scrubbing at the dried and crusted semen. I could have waited to shower if I was in any other frame of mind, but I’m not.

My breaths are coming quickly, and I’m seconds away from hyperventilating. I just need it off!

Swallowing back a frustrated scream as I scrub at my face, I pump some more soap into my hand to get under my chin and neck. The rest I’ll get in the shower, but having the scent of spicy manure and pickles so close to my nose now that it’s no longer swollen with snot is unveiling those terrible scents.

You can do this. Just scrub!

Gathering the warm water in my cupped hands, I wash everything off, keeping my gaze firmly on the shiny faucet. I don’t want to see how gross the water running down my face looks. On the upside, my skin feels cleaner, and I sneak a glance at the mirror. All I can see is slightly red skin from rubbing at it and swollen eyes, but nothing else.

Drying my face, I make myself ignore the rest of my body to pull the toothbrush out of the opened package. The bathroom I’m in, while in the hallway, appears to connect to two bedrooms on either side of it.

I’m going to have to lock those doors as soon as I can catch my breath for my own sanity. I need to at least have the illusion of privacy and safety.

It matters to me.

My fingers lose the cap of the toothpaste when I attempt to screw it off, skittering across the marble countertop but not falling. Shaking my head as my body twitches, I carefully squeeze some paste onto my toothbrush.

Is this what shock or trauma feels like?

My body doesn’t want to do what I want to, feeling like one more type of betrayal.How could I come for those men?

All I can see is the way my body responded to the men who hurt me. I can’t understand how I keened and moaned for them. Granted there was a lot of screaming and crying, but I squirted all over Morris’ face several times.

I know the pills I was forced to swallow did not do me any favors, they made me act differently than I ever would have. I’m still incredibly angry with myself. There’s this aching disappointment in my soul that I couldn’t hold back.

My mind is giving me my own memory reel of what happened as I run the toothbrush under water and then stick it in my mouth to aggressively brush. Pushing down on the faucet to turn it off is a struggle as I try to stay in the present.

I hate my body right now. I’m falling apart when I need to be strong, but Jed and his pack did this to me. Weeks of sleeping and being medicated did me no favors. It took me too long to realize the tea Morris was giving me was laced with a sedative.

I trusted him too much, right up until he showed me the option of the pill or the sedative laced injection.

A keen escapes from my lips as I struggle to breathe, forcing myself to finish brushing my teeth and tongue. Now all I can taste now is minty toothpaste instead of cum, puke, and fear.

Rinsing my mouth out with a handful of water, I spit and then repeat before taking an easier breath and washing off the toothbrush. Shutting off the water, I dry my face and then walk to one of the doors that I’m certain opens to a bedroom and lock it. Then I do the same with the other and face the shower.

It’s a smaller frameless shower enclosure that fits perfectly against the corner of the wall and then a freestanding stone resin tub next to it. It all flows well to serve its purpose, to bathe in, but I don’t want to lay in a tub.

Moving forward, I open the glass door and see the odds and ends I’ll need to get clean and then turn on the water. I turn it onto the most powerful setting and the warmest the temperature will go short of burning my skin, and step inside. I’m sure there are other cool things it can do, but I can’t bring myself to care.

The water is scalding as it runs over my body and as I gaze at the hair products in the alcove, it feels like too much work, until I think about the fact that there’s unmentionable body fluid in my hair and sob.

“It’s everywhere!” I scream, hugging my waist as I just let it go. Sobbing, I do the work to shampoo my hair, my knees collapsing underneath me, so my ass is on the cold tile floor.

Hands falling to my lap, I let the water begin to wash it away, watching it swirl as it disappears down the drain.

“Why can’t I vanish just like that?” I whisper, dropping my head back to let the water wash away my tears.

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