I stare at the door in front of me, thinking. I'm no expert on mental health, but I know that her behaviour is way off. It seems the total opposite of what I would expect from a woman who's experienced sexual assault. I assumed she wouldn't want to go within a ten-foot radius of an unknown man. I didn't expect this, and I'm not sure how to behave.
A sound of rapid breathing, like she's hyperventilating, reaches me.
"Is everything okay?" I ask over my shoulder without looking toward the shower.
There is a sniff and more heavy breathing. I finally look inside the stall and see the girl sitting on the floor with the blanket still wrapped around her. She is frantically scrubbing the washcloth over the inside of her legs. The skin there is so red, it looks raw.
