Clara
Hot water falls over my body and I close my eyes. For a moment, I try to focus only on that… On the sound, the steam, the sensation of the water running over my skin… Because thinking has become exhausting.
I'm always thinking, always trying to remember. And nothing happens.
I slowly open my eyes, my gaze falling down to my arms. There are still marks and small scars, yellowish bruises that are fading.
The skin on my shoulder still bears a fine line where the glass cut me.
My fingers trace that mark, then another. And another… Evidence of something my mind can't show me, evidence of an accident that changed my life.
An accident everyone remembers, except me.
I swallow.
My gaze rises to the fogged mirror in front of me. I run my hand along the glass and see myself.
For a mom
