you're what we were (30-day writing challenge)

Staring up at the ceiling, her mind makes up scenarios.

The camera angle widens; the shot becomes clearer, zooming out to reveal the sides of a vintage, claw-foot tub. The shower curtain wraps around the outside, dark and red, filtering crimson light over her catatonic stare. Cut to a shot looking up, watching the water fall from the showerhead. It pans down, past her feet, resting above the spigot. Past her knees, bruised and discolored...

She blinks a few times, wiping her eyes with her fingertips to clear the water from her lashes as she sits up. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she sits with her back to the water, letting the beads of scaldingly hot water pummel her skin. The heat dries her out, makes her itchy later, but the all-inclusive warmth is worth it, in the moment.

Her eyes close and she leans against the side of the tub, letting her head fall forward. The water rushes down over the top of her head, forcing her hair to clump and fall, hanging like curtains on either side of her face. The water makes it dark and heavy. She disappears into the sound of the falling water. It's soothing, like rain, but also loud and tumultuous. Like a storm or a waterfall. It's white noise, and it drowns out everything else so that for a while, she can just...be. Existence is enough.

She doesn't have to please anyone. She doesn't have to listen to anyone; she doesn't even have to deal with her own thoughts. It's enough, just like this. It's enough, just to forget.

{via}

(day one prompt: something you love)