I couldn't remember how I got home; one moment I'd been struggling to my feet in the alley, and the next I was at the door to my apartment, fumbling with the keys. Maybe that brick to the head had turned my brain to mush; all my keys looked the same. I didn't know which one was the right one. I resorted to trial and error to figure out which one it was, and once I got the right one, I shoved open the door and stumbled through.
Damn…I don't remember my place being this dark…
Suddenly I felt self-conscious, being alone in my dark apartment, the glow of the florescent bulbs leaking in from the hallway being the only source of lighting. I fumbled for the switch to the halogen lamp by my couch, and once it was on, I shuffled back to the door and quickly shut it, sliding the locks into place, then checking about four or five times to make sure I hadn't forgotten one. Something else I'd briefly forgotten about – my stab wound – started to throb, along with all my other bruises and wounds. I gritted my teeth in frustration as I peeled my shirt off of me and tossed it aside, and by the time I'd made it to the bathroom, I was naked, a trail of bloody clothes behind me like a shadow.
I stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water as hot as I could. Once the spray greeted me in the face, I welcomed it eagerly, putting my head and body under the stream. Contrary to what somebody might think about putting fresh wounds under hot water, my bruises actually seemed to be soothed by it. The gaping wound in my side suddenly didn't seem to matter so much, either. When I opened my eyes and looked down, I could see the blood-tinged water twirling down the drain like in the infamous shower scene in Psycho. It was my blood going down that drain. I didn't think I'd seen myself bleed that much in years…
I opened my eyes, and suddenly I found myself freezing cold, and not only that, but being drenched in it. I looked up and realized I was still in the shower stall, but on the tile floor; did I pass out? I must've, 'cause I didn't remember lying down, and I certainly wouldn't have let myself stay in there long enough to let the water turn so cold. Bracing myself against the wall, I stood up on wobbly feet and turned off the water. I wrung out my drenched hair, only to wince in pain when the pressure made my head start to throb yet again.
God…how many times did he hit me over the head with that damn brick? Twice woulda done the job fine!
I grabbed a towel off the rack and gingerly dried my body off, and amazingly enough, when I was done it wasn't bloodstained at all; the bleeding must've stopped while I was passed out in the shower. I dried off my hair, tossed the towel aside, then turned and dared to take a look at myself in the mirror. Who was that staring back at me? I didn't recognize that girl; that wasn't me with the blackened and bloodshot eyes, swollen nose, cut lip, scrapes on the forehead and cheeks. With my hand, I touched my nose and winced at the pain that shot through it.
The girl in the mirror winced too. She also winced when I did when with one jerk of my hand, I snapped my nose back into place.
"It is me. Holy shit, that IS me."
No…no, this didn't happen. Part of me still didn't want to believe that this had happened. Well, the mental part, at least. The physical part of me was screaming with the truth. I just wanted to shut them both up. I had to. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more.
I managed somehow to bandage up my side wound with a gauze pad and some rolled-up self-sticking bandages; maybe it was something that had rubbed off on me after seeing Sylia do it on me more than once during our vigilante days. Oh, hell, it didn't matter where I learned it; for the moment, at least, my side had stopped protesting so much. I went to the bedroom and threw on an oversized shirt and some skimpy panties that would touch as little of my bruised skin as possible. I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled, still-damp hair as I headed to the kitchen and dug through my cabinets for something to drink. My hand found a large, still-mostly-full bottle of vodka. I dragged it out, then popped a few pain pills, chasing them down with a swig of the vodka. I licked my lips, savoring the taste, then took another swig, and another. Before I knew it, I'd drunk half of what was left.
That'll shut my body up. Good night, ladies.
