SO I WILL NOT ASK YOU
WHY YOU WERE CREEPING
IN SOME SAD WAY, I ALREADY KNOW
Growing up, I read so many books that I no longer felt as if the world I lived in was real; nobody I had ever met felt as real as those I read about in my books. That was un...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
Micheal didn't get excited about most things; but a warm shower was definitely at the top of his list. He was so excited that he wasn't even that mad he had to share a room with Carl, he was ecstatic even. If it wasn't for Carl, he wouldn't be enjoying this shower.
Micheal hated being dirty, when as a child he couldn't stand the feeling.
Each morning at the camp Micheal spent hours trying to make himself feel clean; picking the dirt out from under his nails, washing his face in the lake water, washing his hair with dish soap, he even went as far as to make sure his mom was the only one that washed his clothes to make sure they were really clean.
But now, he could finally, really, be clean.
The bathroom was full of steam from the shower, engulfing the boy in its warmth way before he had the chance to get in. Just a few seconds under the hot water made Micheal feel ten times cleaner than weeks of washing up in the lake ever could.
His laughter echoed through the shower as he lathered up his hair with more and more shampoo. His fingers vigorously worked their way through his hair, scratching away the dirt and grease from his scalp. Once he was done, he used the entire bottle of body wash to lather up his body; using his nails to scratch away the dirt from his skin.
He turned off the facet once he was done washing up and stepped out - a wave of fatigue finally hit him. He didn't know if it was from weeks of sleeping on the ground, or his exciting day, or maybe it was from the drugs and alcohol wearing off. Either way, Micheal was the most tired he's ever been.
He dried himself off and put on the pile of clean clothes Carl had set out for him: A pair of sweatpants and a science dog t-shirt that was a little too big for him. He stared at himself in the mirror and frowned; his face was still busted and bruised. His hair was stringy and began curling at the the edges it's been so long he sat with grease and dirt in his hair that he forgot he even had curls.
He turned and opened the door, stepping into the office the boys were using as a bedroom. Carl sat on the pull-out, reading a comic book that Micheal has seen him read about a hundred times now.
Carl quickly lifted his head, smiling: "finally, thought you'd never be done".
"Best shower ever", Micheal said slowly, dragging himself to the edge of the bed and plopped down face first. "I could fall asleep right here".
"Yeah, right", Carl scoffed, "I'm not sleeping with you".
Micheal lifted his head, glaring at the older boy. "I am not sleeping on the floor", he snapped, "why invite me in here if you were just gonna be a dick?".
"When I said sleep in my room, I did not mean with me", he rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, fuck you", Micheal pushed himself up and walked towards the door, but stopped as Carl called out to him.
