She watched it swirl, trickling down the drain. Reds and pinks blended in lost dreams and hopes emptying from her body.

Sliding down the cold wall, she finally hit the floor. Finally hit the bottom, emotions emptying through her eyes.

How long had they been trying? How long had she held onto hope that evaporated every month?

She hated her body for a week each month. Pure, raw hate. She wanted to mark it, bruise it, beat it into submission.

Instead, she watched the water swirl and wished it could be all of her, slipping peacefully, quietly down the drain.