I knocked his hand away, and he took a step back. “I’m not going to get over Katie.”
I stormed off down the hall and out the front door of the school, pacing the sidewalk as I waited for the cops to arrive, but they never did.
Survivor
Chapter 11—Ella
Survivor: to continue to function or prosper
The room was small but clean, and the hotel had been recently built, so it didn’t feel seedy and dirty. The walls were white and the bed and accent furniture a deep blue that reminded me of Rellik’s eyes. There was a bed in the center with a dresser directly in front of it that held a flat-screen television. I turned it on to have some background noise so it didn’t feel so empty. I hated being alone ever since I was little.
On the far side was a small desk and chair that shared a wall with the bathroom. On top of the desk was a black duffel bag. I stepped inside the bathroom and flipped on the light. The walls and floor were covered in tiny one-inch tiles, all different shades of blue. The shower had a thick glass door that made the room appear larger. A sink that looked like a glass bowl on a beautiful, reclaimed wood table sat to the right next to the toilet. It was modern and streamlined, and I was dying to take a hot shower and wash away the stress of the day. I looked up at the mirror and took in my dark circles under my eyes. My hair desperately needed a trim, and a few hours in the sun would do my skin some good.
I turned on the shower, giving it time to get warm as I took off my clothes and tossed them in a pile by the sink. I grabbed the soap bar from the shelf and ripped open the plastic wrapping. Rubbing it between my wet hands, I glanced down at the fading scars on my torso and thighs. I tried not to think about how they had gotten there. I wore them as a badge of honor because each mark was another tally in the list of things I’d survived.
* *
“Stop pretending you don’t like me.” He took a long drink from a beer bottle and sat it on the bathroom sink. I covered myself, trying to hide behind the spray of the shower to obscure his view.
“Get out of here.”
“Make me.”
“You don’t scare me!” I knew my lip was quivering, and I took a step back as he grabbed a razor from the sink, a sadistic smirk on his face.
“You look scared, Mikaella.” He stepped toward me as I slipped, falling in the tub. Laughing, he bent down over me and ran the blade against my upper thigh, leaving behind a one-inch gash. I screamed as the pain seared through me, but there was no one else home, no one to come save me.
“I love it when you scream.” He grabbed himself over his jeans as I pushed myself to my feet, refusing to let him have his way.
“I’ll tell them! I don’t care if they send me back!”
“Tell them what? That you cut yourself shaving? Maybe they’ll send you to a psych ward. Does that sound fun?” He grabbed my wrist with so much force, it felt like the bones would crumble beneath my bruised flesh.
“When my father finds me, he is going to kill you,” I seethed.
“Oh, that’s cute. You think your real parents are going to come for you? Why don’t we have a little more fun until they arrive?”
* *
Stepping under the spray, I closed my eyes and cleaned myself as quickly as possible, a habit I had developed over the last few years. The flesh over my right hip was tender from the alley fight, and I exhaled through clenched teeth as I rubbed over it again and again until the pain no longer caused me to wince. They couldn’t hurt me anymore. No one could hurt me.
I quickly lathered up my hair with the complementary mini shampoo bottle and rinsed away the smell of sweat and stale beer. I splayed my fingers out in front of me and watched my hand tremor. It had been years since I had slept without the aid of medicine, and tonight was going to be brutal.
I grabbed the small, rough, white towel that hung just outside the shower door and tried to wrap my body, but even with my small frame, I was unable to get it around me. I padded out into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints behind me, and glanced around the room. I couldn’t put my dirty clothes back on until I washed them, and they would be uncomfortable to sleep in.
I glanced over at the door as I slowly unzipped the duffel bag. It was full of men’s clothing, a journal, and a few odds and ends. I grabbed a gray Doors T-shirt and a pair of gray boxers that would pass as shorts while I looked for the Laundromat in the hotel. I pulled the clothes on quickly, and a small folded piece of notebook paper caught my eye. I pulled it out of the bag and unfolded it. It had a phone number with no name. I stuck it back inside the bag and grabbed a blue bottle of cologne, Polo Sport. Pulling off the silver lid, I sniffed it before spritzing some of it on the T-shirt and dropping it back inside. Under the clothing was an old notebook. I glanced to the door as I pulled it out and flipped it open to a random page. Random lyrics were scribbled across the pages in different-colored ink. Some looked much newer than others.