In the end, she had done nothing. She felt like nothing.
It had been a very long time since she’d allowed herself to grapple with self-pity, but it had crept up on her like midday shadows slowly stretching with the crest of the sun above. It was a vulgar feeling, like her actions.
Being alone helped very little.
It had been days since she’d seen anyone, the matters seeming to resolve themselves around her, leaving her to grasp at straws. It did not help that her misdeeds were thrown in her face. She deserved that. And felt wretched for growing angry with whomever recriminated her. And again felt wretched for not being able to pull out of this mood, dragging her further into it.
This too shall pass. the thought came with the sting of tears, which she tried to force down by gritting her teeth.
This shall pass. This shall pass, this shall pass, this shall pass! It played in her mind like a prayer, over and over and over, but the tears came in steady trickles down her cheeks and she cursed herself for them. Thrice cursed and cursed again!
A frustrated growl, the crack of her knees on the tile, and she leaned her head forward, stifling a scream. Curling inward, she fell on her side, her legs tucked up against her chest as sobs shook through her. She pulled her hair. Frustration coupled with disgust in a bed of red hot anger, the burn of it threatening to disarm her sanity. She had unmade something beautiful, decimated and vandalized and pillaged and wronged!
Shame took a merciful hold on her then, and a hand move to cover her face, the other wrapping tightly across her middle.
She lay there for many hours.