Flora and the Zephyrs
The water is like a fresh day, blinding in light. The heat drowns my body, running along my skin and away as I try to hold on, holding onto the wall. I don’t feel like I was just lying in a pool of my own blood, and dirt. I don’t feel like almost dying. My tummy shakes, and I wonder about the consequences. The world is too bright, and way too loud, so I stand directly under the head of the shower, hard sprays drenching my shivering form, and every time I think I can hear something I couldn’t possibly hear, I turn my head to the side and let the water run along my ears.
The water is like a fresh day. And Edward is waiting for me.