She was bruised.
“You have come so late. Where have you been?”
She silently drifted towards her room without answering and latched the door. And there she fell at that very position on her knees and the tears welled up in her eyes. Her mouth gaped open and a muffled voice of shock escaped her mouth. She bit on the curtain so as to prevent her wail be heard by anyone.
She was retching. She ran towards the washroom while bile rose up in the back of her mouth and she puked her miseries out.
She couldn’t believe what had happened with her.
“It is my fault.” She wiped away what was left of her mascara and lipstick and rubbed her papery white skin. The tears had dried out. She clawed at her face.
“It is my fault.” She faced the mirror.
“I am bruised and it is my fault.”
* Written in response of VisDare 27.
HA's Place 
Feels like there is a longer story waiting to be told here… Excellent use of prompt..x
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Thank you. 🙂
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Not the victim’s fault, but so many think it is, including the victim themselves many times.
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Yes, that is true.. I feel saddened by this very fact and hence, I shared this short tale.
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HA a powerful and tormenting take.
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Thank you.. 🙂
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I agree with the Real Cie; victims often feel dirty and like it’s their fault. Good use of the photo.
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Thanks.. And your statement is true.
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Gave me a chill…good job in taking through her gamut of emotions.
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Thank you for the kind remark.
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Heatwrenching. Such a pointed view into the mind of a victim, swallowed up in a lie. The glaring absence of anyone following her to her room to double check on her is especially grotesque in its own way. Well done.
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Thank you. She is alone and hence she blames herself in order to get a reason behind the tragedy. I felt her pain all over again by your words..
It is really extraordinary how we feel connected to our characters..
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oooh i’d love for this to continue – questions upon questions… they let the mind wander. great take on the prompt, love how you use the reader’s imagination to extend the storyline…
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Thank you for the kind remark.
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