She tore off the remains of her blouse and pants. She felt the water running down her body, felt the gentle stinging where her wounds were. She didn't want to look at herself. A moment ago, she'd been in this man's hands. She dug her nails into her flesh. She'd done the same to him, but unlike her pain, he felt pleasure. At first... She wanted this. She wanted to go into the bathroom with him. She wanted to taste his red lips. But only his lips. She didn't want to be his plaything, a moment of joy, a moment of happiness. She remembered that brutal touch. And those powerful hands of his that had somehow found their way under her blouse. She wanted to protest, but her tiny body didn't have the strength to resist this bastard. A shiver ran through her. She turned the shower on harder and sat up. Tears mingled with blood and water.
"This is your first time, isn't it?" he whispered in her ear. She wanted to scream, but he deftly covered her mouth with his hand. As if he did this every day. And even though he only had one free hand, he pulled off her pants and panties. And then he did his thing. She resisted, tried to bite him, but finally gave in. She knew she stood no chance against him. She knew she wasn't the first victim. She clasped her hands together. Who would want her now? What would she tell Maciek? She wouldn't tell anyone. She went to the mirror and grabbed a pair of scissors.
"It's the hair! I don't want my hair so long!" she fumed and cut it unevenly. "No... Not the hair. It's this face! If I weren't so made up, he wouldn't even notice me." She broke a tiny mirror on the shelf. Into seven uneven pieces. She took one of the glass pieces and gently ran it over her face. "There will be a scar. A terrible scar..." said her inner voice. "That's it..." she replied, smiling. Blood mingled with the red of her lips. "That smell... It's still here!" she flew into a rage. She grabbed her mother's perfume and started spraying it quickly. She ran out of the bathroom. She was wearing bloody panties and a strapless bra. She felt the cold from outside. "What if he's inside me? A part of him..." she panicked.
***
"Adam, haven't you seen Anka?" Aśka asked, bumping into the beige boy.
"No," he said, smiling broadly.
"Are you sure? She was going out with you..." Aśka wondered.
"Well, it seems so. But..." he stumbled over his words. "...she met some boy and went somewhere with him." He shrugged.
"What boy?" The girl was terrified and looked at the beige boy. But he disappeared into the crowd and she never saw him again.
***
His eyes. Blue. They were beautiful until a strange desire for revenge appeared in them.
His hair. Blond hair. Close-cropped.
His hands. Strong, making decisive movements.
His smile. Captivating…
She would never forget him. What if he left something inside her that one day wanted to call her "Mom"? No. He definitely didn't.
The girl slowly rose from the carpet and went to the bathroom, where water was pouring out. She didn't turn off the tap. "It will flood the whole house. Just like a sea of blood flooded me. And then he left. He said: Good ones are like you. And don't say you didn't want this, because no one will believe you anyway..." She was right. No one would. Oh. Something stirred inside her. No, it's impossible... "Kill it! Destroy it! Destroy part of it, just like it destroyed all of you!" someone said.
Yes!
Glass in her hand. One cut across her stomach, another.
She had no chance of surviving this.
And even if she did... would she have a chance to start living again?
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