Trapped

She hadn’t showered in two days and she turned the water up about twelve degrees above her comfort. The cascade of heat burned the sensitive skin of her face and she was grateful for it. It was comforting to feel something stronger than the rage of emotions exploding inside her. Mindlessly she began the routine. Shampoo, front right corner on the left; pour one ounce, close bottle, replace on tub, lather hair, let sit. Face wash; she could feel the dead skin eroding her face and reached for the exfoliating scrub on the right in contrast to the micro foamer on the left. Scrub, scrub until it bleeds, remove the death from your face she told herself as her face began to burn in the combination of salicylic acid and overly hot water. Rinse the death and lather away. Conditioner, front beside the shampoo, quarter size squeeze, close bottle, replace, cover scalp, let sit. Loffa, body wash, lather, wash away the pain. Let the drain carry all her sorrow to the seas, let her start over. This had become her life; mere steps in a process. She was a routine and she couldn’t break it. She wanted so much to escape from conformity of her life but she was trapped.