Murder by Death

I woke up on another bathroom floor.  What day is it? Can't find my underwear... What was I wearing? I raise my hand to touch my foreheadand bring down a damp scarlet fluid.  I lick my fingers clean and find a pair of pants behind the dirty, broken toilet. They aren't fresh but they'll do.

The bathroom is freezing and I realize my shirt is torn. That was the only one I had left. I cautiously step over the ice cold broken floor tiles painted tastfully with the metallic smelling crimson nectar of the carrion against the wall. The shirt it wears is black. The blood doesn't show. Long blonde hair is tangled around an angelic androgynous face that blankly stares up at me. Such a pretty body covered in such filth.  How did the flys get in?