The morning light hit the windows, and my eyes opened up to find you gone. The apartment was quiet, I thought I heard some movement on the balcony, but I didn't get up straight away. The room smelled like sweat and alcohol, and I almost wished I hadn't agreed to go home with you. As I laid on your king size bed, filled with the highest thread count sheets and pillowcases, I tried to remember everything that had happened the night before, but my memories were blurred and hazy. Stumbling round the bar at midnight, still knocking back the shots. You grabbed my arm, and whispered in my ear that I should go home with you. It wouldn't be right of me to leave you to get home all alone, you said to me, a voice filled with concern. Looking back, you probably weren't that concerned, but to my drunken self, you were the kind face in a sea of strangers. You led me out to your car, and your friend was driving. We sat in the back, and your hand was on my thigh. It stayed there for a few minutes, but then you started steadily moving it higher up. I resisted a little at first, I wasn't that kind of girl, but soon I just gave up and let you do what you wanted. You touched me all over, and I was just trying to contain the nausea. The car smelled oddly, but maybe it was just all of the vodka I'd drank. We got to your apartment and you half carried me through the door, until we made it over to the bed. I remember you climbing on top of me, and then I think I passed out. Why did I agree to that, what was I thinking?

I slowly dragged myself out of your bed, only to fall back down into a seated position. My head was pounding, all of the blood was rushing through my body, I swear I could feel it traveling through my veins. My mouth was dry, but it still tasted vaguely of bile. Eventually I forced my resisting limbs to move and I made it away from the bed. I pulled on my pants and shirt from last night and wandered into the kitchen. Through the sliding doors I saw you on the balcony, looking down at the city below us. I saw a glass of orange juice on the table, I sat down in the chair and gulped down the juice. The acid burned my raw throat but I needed to get the taste of last night out of my mouth. I heard the door open and you stepped back into the room. You didn't say much and you hardly looked at me, but you did sit down at the table where I sat. You asked if I wanted some coffee, and your voice didn't sound as magical as it had the night before, instead it sounded gravelly and angry. I said yes, thank you, and you handed me a cracked cup filled with the bitter liquid. You looked away from me, as much as I tried to catch your eye, you wouldn't look at me. Why won't you look me? Maybe I wasn't as beautiful in the morning light as I had been under the flashing strobe lights of the bar.

You pulled a cigarette out of the pack on the side of the table and then held the pack out to me. I took one, my fingers still shaking slightly from remembering everything I'd done. You held out a lighter, and I leaned forward across the table as you lit the cigarette for me. I cast my eyes downward at the floor. The tiles were sea blue. I wanted to get lost in the tiles, I wanted to be so far away from here, I wanted to be floating in the sea. I wished I would go blind so I wouldn't have to see this apartment, I wouldn't have to see what I'd done with my life. I smoked the cigarette down to the filter and threw it in the ashtray. I asked you for another, and you obliged. As you handed it to me, you said you had to go to work. I knew it was my signal to leave, and I would, but I just wanted you to look at me before I went. I stood up slowly from the table. You were still looking down at the table and your newspaper. I said that I'd be going now, and again you weren't looking. I moved to the door, and opened it to the rain. I look back at you one last time, and you were watching me. Finally you looked at me. I stepped into the downpour, and I felt it soak through my skin, absolving me of my sins. I don’t know what happened to you, but maybe eventually you were washed away, just as I felt like I had been.