When Erin woke up the next morning, her entire body ached. Glancing at her watch, she saw that she had slept late again, and she shook her head a little, only to touch her forehead in an effort to stop the room from spinning. Looking around for something to eat, to ease the way her stomach was growling at her, she found that there was only a pitcher of orange juice on the table.
Erin frowned deeply as she climbed out of bed, taking care to ensure that she didn't jostle her ribs or hurt herself further. Making her way over to the table, she saw no food tray, and her frown deepened as she went over to the stairs, looking up to the top to see if it had been left there. Seeing nothing, she turned around and sank to her knees, looking under the bed for her box of food. A strangled cry of frustration slipped from her lips as she acknowledged the fact that it had been removed sometime while she had been sleeping.
"Great, they're going to starve me to death," she murmured as she went back over to the table, picking up the pitcher and pouring herself a glass. On the table, there was a note, in rough, ugly, writing telling her that she was being denied meals for the day due to her treatment of Mary the night before.
She sighed deeply and brought both pitcher and glass over to the bed, once more foregoing changing in favor of being comfortable. As she curled up on the bed, she felt a deep sadness sweep over her body and she fought back the tears that came to the forefront once more. Thinking back to last night, she could almost recall the look of pure rage that had marred Cathy's face, how it felt to be beaten.
Reaching up, she carefully brushed her fingers against the puffy bruise on her cheek. It hurt so much, and she decided that she had to see what damage Cathy had wrought. Taking a deep breath, she slipped out of bed once more, only to hear footsteps above her. Instantly, fear gripped her heart, and she scurried back into her nest, pulling the sheet up over her head as she tried to control the speed and sound of her breathing. The footsteps receded, and Erin still kept up her guard, not certain what would happen.
Keeping her eye on her watch, she tracked the seconds ticking by as one minute turned to ten turned to sixty. Finally, she felt safe enough to take a deep, full, breath and she slowly stretched out her body and tried to relax. Her muscles ached from being held so tensely over the course of an hour, and she sighed a little as she reached down and tried to rub out the pain. Finally, she stumbled out of bed and made her way over to the bathroom, lowering her panties and sitting on the toilet heavily.
As she voided, she began to take stock of the bruises on her legs. Erin could feel that there were large bruises on the backs of her thighs, since it hurt to sit on them, and the same marks mottled her lower legs as well. After finishing, she stood and made her way over to the sink, staring at her face in the mirror. Both of her cheeks were bruised and cut, one from Mary, the other from Cathy. Cathy's hit had also blackened her eye, and she went to bite her lower lip, only to hiss in pain as she broke open the split in it once more.
The bright red blood turned her stomach, and she fought to keep from throwing up, knowing that the bile would feel excruciating on her lips. Plucking a tissue from the box, she dabbed at the blood, soaking it up as she let herself cry. She looked awful, and she didn't want her David to see her like this. He would worry, and fuss, and that was the last thing she needed. If she was honest, all she wanted to do have him be silent and hold her for about a thousand years. "David, I hope that Penelope let you know. I hope that you're out there, looking for me."
Her shoulders began to shake from the force of her tears, the sting of salt making her feel all too alive and all too separated from her loved ones. She ran her hand through her hair, hissing a little as her fingers got caught on snarls she hadn't bothered to brush out yesterday. "There is no way that I want my babies to see me like this," she murmured as she stripped off the nightgown and got into the shower, turning it on as cool as she could stand it.
Still, the water hurt as it hit her skin, and she shivered a little as she raised her arms above her head to work the shampoo into her hair, hoping that it would help remove some of the knots. Erin found that she could barely stand to work the conditioner into her hair, and she knew that she could never stand the agony of scrubbing her body with the pouf.
Instead, she just stood under the water for as long as she could stand it, hoping to wash the scent of fear off her skin. It was pervasive, however, and she finally had to turn the water off before it was gone. Or maybe she was just imagining it. Anything could be possible at this point.
Getting out of the shower, she carefully wrapped a towel around her body and went out to the room so that she could grab fresh clothes. Erin almost dropped the towel where she stood, before remembering just when Cathy had stormed down the stairs last night – when she had reached out to comfort Mary. Which meant that they were watching her, and there was no way she was going to let those two women see her naked. Picking up her clothes, she hurried back to the bathroom and closed the door with as much force as she could muster.
Taking a deep breath, she managed to shimmy into her clothes, wincing slightly at the way her motions pulled at her bruises. Finally, she walked back out to her bed and carefully settled herself on the mattress, reaching for her glass of orange juice only to find it gone. In its place was an empty water bottle, and she let out a watery laugh as she realized that she really was being punished for making Mary cry. They had almost reached a level of absurdity that beggared disbelief, and she could hardly wait to see what the next day would bring her.
Letting out a frustrated breath, she threw the bottle as far away from her as she could before curling up with Rebecca and losing herself in the world of the second Mrs. de Winter. At least this was one mystery that ended concretely enough, even though it was not a happy ending. Curling up a little, trying to find a comfortable position, she scanned the familiar words on the page and tried to stay awake, even as sleep and hunger gnawed at her overworked brain.