I stab my shaking heel into his crotch and twist until I hear him scream. This is my revenge. It's not even one tenth of my pain but this is all I would ever do. I gather the remains of my clothes and my dignity, nursing my raptured innocence back into the hotel. Once inside the confines of my room I strip out of my dress and turn on the shower. Hot. Extremely hot. I step into the shower, letting the water run down my body. I clutch onto the sponge and rub my skin. Every inch. Every centimetre. Every millimetre of bruised and tainted skin. Until I'm raw and hurting. I let myself be consumed by this new pain. Now I cry.
After the shower, I scatter the contents of my luggage. It's not there. It's not there. The small bottle of pills aren't there. I walk to the kitchen and pour myself warm water to calm my nerves. I sip the liquid as I walk back and forth across my room. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth until my eyes swim with vertigo. I feel sick. I am sick. My whole body convulses, curved like a snake as I bend over with my hand clutching my mouth. I'm going to vomit. I let myself go into the toilet bowl, unsure whether this disgust is from the alcohol or from him. I rinse my mouth with tap water and then a mug of brewed coffee. I gaze out the large window with views of the cityscape. I let go of the breath I was holding as the sun finally rises; its orange warmth reflecting off skyscraper windows.
The pharmacy will open soon.
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