I'm sorry.

Danielle, unlike any other normal person and going to take a nap before a meeting with the director, she dropped her bags in her suite, changed into her training outfit (consisting of simply a sports bra and above knee shorts), her favourite Nike trainers, her headphones and a bottle of water was what she needed. She needed an adrenaline before she did anything and that was exercising for her, surprisingly. Danielle raced to the hotel’s gym, hoping it’d be empty, since it was midday and everybody would be out to lunch. It was empty. The treadmill was still, the weights were silent and all that could be heard was her panting from running to there. She slid on her headphones and started playing the playlist on her iPod, titled “work out”. The playlist included some dance instrumentals and other songs which made her feel good and in control. She was in control of herself. Something she didn’t have as a youngster, letting the sour taste of alcohol rule her every move. She needed something to distract her from the tempting beverage and found that keeping in shape was a way to get a rush from the constant demand she put herself but also benefiting from it. She headed for the weights first.

She hissed, she grunted, she trembled, she panted, she sighed, she gritted her teeth, she clenched her fists and she sweated off every last drop of water she held in her body. The water droplets trickled down her forehead, picking up her sweet distinctive smell, rolling down to her neck, some tracing down to her cleavage from her bra. She grabbed her water bottle to cool down the heat escaping her body, starting from the top of her head, slowly moving it down to her chest and stomach. She needed the refreshment, not for her throat, but for her aching body. She deserved it after the intense work out. She sat down on the step, her legs spread out, her elbows resting on her knees and her head was bowed down. She breathed through her mouth rather heavily, her eyes slightly shut. Danielle also saw this as punishment. Putting her through all this physical pain quite harshly, still blaming herself for her mother’s death. Tears swapped her sweat and could have been easily mistaken. She stayed silent though. She was possessed by guilt and hatred towards herself; it was something rehab couldn’t do anything about. No closure could bring her peace and not comfort could leave her rested. She wiped off into a towel before getting up and gathering everything and going back up to her room to take a soothing shower. She expired constantly before breaking down into several tears. The running water drowned her cries of despair. She crawled down to her feet and sat up against the shower wall. She palmed her faced and cried out even harder. The steam didn’t make her visible even to her own self. Danielle couldn’t take it anymore. She needed this guilt to vanish. “I’m sorry, mama!” she screamed “I’m sorry!” She dropped her head backwards, falling hard. The pain she had in the back of her head was nothing compared to what she experienced these past 16 years.