It takes a while to wash away the greasy feel from her skin, and the bath is tinged a cloudy flesh colour by the end. With a final sigh, Shelley sits up, wringing out her hair before she tries to pull herself out.

Its pathetic, she thinks bitterly, watching her arms shake, how much effort it takes to haul herself up and step over the edge. She almost falls before she grabs a towel and manages to wrap herself in it, and finally sits down to shake quietly, and try and regain some form of strength.