Slenderman's Daughter (Remake)

'Refreshed'

After Jeff closes the door, I use my arm to help me to rise up using the support of the creaking sink. However, I immediately regret using the sink to help me.

As I look into the whiteish sink bowl, I see blood, dirt, and mouse poop that's probably been ignored there for at least a year. There is a wad of hair stuck in the side of the drain. I immediately look away, sending a bit of pain to my head. Where I look there are for some reason two toilets- possibly because Jeff said he shared a room with Jane- my other known captor. Out of curiosity, I look into one of the toilets. I immediately regret it. It's filled with very little water, mixed with blood, throw up, dirt, mud, a huge broken mouse trap, and more disgusting unidentifiable shit. Underneath where the toilet seat would usually be (the thing there instead of a toilet seat is a cracked folding piece, which I suppose is what's left of the toilet seat) there is way too much dirt and hair wad up even for a garden

I try not to throw up, but I guess that the pain overwhelming me along with the nasty smell and stuff in the toilet overcomes my attempt. I throw up, in the toilet and along the seat. After gagging and wiping my mouth with my now ragged and disgusting white (or at least it used to be white) hoodie, I think of flushing it. I also think of, however, the disgusting nonsense that could come out of the pipe.

Passing by, I see the other toilet. It's relatively clean as toilets go. I sigh in relief. However, I most only hope that the shower will be considerable to clean myself in. Because as I pass by the bathtub and see a mother mouse nursing two baby mice, I nearly throw up again.

Well, just face it, you need to shower, I think to myself. If you don't you could get infected or something. Whether it's clean or disgusting you really just need to face the dirtiness.

I sigh and look up at the shower. The two slider doors seem relatively clean- but I've learned not to judge a book by its cover. I look inside the shower, and I'm honestly kind of shocked to see that it's pretty clean. But, a good kind of shocked, of course. There's only about 1 or so wads of hair stuck in part of the drain, and the whole shower itself is only mildly dirty.

I open one of the sliding doors and then turn the handle to activate the water. I am disappointed when nothing comes out. Well, until a bit a brownish liquid starts to drip slowly, eventually flowing into a settled stream of reddish liquid, finally graduating onto a beautiful waterfall of steaming, mostly clear water. I smile to myself and take off my muddy socks, which is a bit hard with some of my injuries. Slowly and carefully, I hop on my left foot, my good leg and foot, into the shower. I then cling to the side with part of my right hand.

At first, I feel like I'm on fire. The burning hot liquid engulfs me. However, I get used to it pretty quickly, enjoying how relaxing it is to have the steam surrounding my neck and head, to have the water streaming down my clothed shoulders. I don't really exactly want to take my clothes off- who knows who could come in here if they really want to. This place doesn't exactly feel very safe.. however, the shower is extremely pleasant, and I do roll my torn sleeves up quite a bit.

After spending about 20 minutes in the shower, I realize I should try to clean my hair. Jeff doesn't have shampoo, but maybe Jane does? I eye a dirty green bottle that reads Shampoo on it. I sigh. Could it be poison? I shake my head. Nah. Also, besides, I would only actually die if I actually put it in my mouth...

Hesitantly, I open the musty bottle and then start to smear the surprisingly clean liquidy substance all over my hair, massaging it with my good hand. I then reach for the bottle labeled Conditioner, running it through the bottoms of my hair, cleaning off my dusty head. I then use some old body wash, smearing it over every inch of my body, reaching under my soaking wet clothes. I finally finish off with some shower lotion- it stings, but I don't care. I just want some freaking hygiene.

Once I'm done, I turn the shower knob to the left and then open the now foggy glass doors. As for my towel, there are two options:

One, the dark blue towel on the bottom of the towel rack. I don't know for sure everything that's on it, but I can see from over here the wads of hair and specks of brown blood.

However, the one on top, the white one- is surprisingly clean. With only a couple of hairs that are visible, it seems like the most obvious option.

With my good hand, I slide the towel off and then wrap it all around myself, holding the top up with my teeth and the sides with my hand. Then, I sit down on the bathroom mat and wait.

I don't know why I sat down- maybe just to process everything once again. I let the towel fall down around me, creating a bit of a circle. My wet clothes cling to me more than my soul did when I had fainted. It's a bit of a miracle, I guess, that I survived. Yet again... maybe these people knew that I would survive. I mean, they don't seem to be killing me... yet. But still. It's a miracle.

My sopping clothes start to get a bit uncomfortable, starting to get cold around me, sending goosebumps up my spine. I sigh. I need new clothes. Like, now.

Building up courage, I yell, "Jeff!"

After a few annoying moments, Jeff responds. "What?" He asks. "Are the mice too much for you?"

"Well... no... but... uhm........" Great, now I forget what I was going to say. Something about new clothes? I realize how absurd this sounds. I mean, there is no way in hell that my freaking KIDNAPPER would WILLINGLY get me new clothes. Like, jeez...

"You good there?" Jeff asks after I don't respond for a moment.

"Uh... ye-aeh..." I say, facepalming myself in the process.

"Pft, ok. You coming, or what?"

"Uh... you know what... my clothes are uh... starting to kind of fall off. Because they're so wet. Uh... yeah...." I say. It's a lie- my clothes are clinging to me like they will die if they don't. But Jeff just laughs. "Uh... so... uh... is it possible I could get some... uhm.. clothes?"

Burning silence- for a whole minute. And then Jeff finally responds, "I don't really care. I mean, I think that Jane has clothes. I don't want you wearing mine. Her room is attached to the bathroom, and she isn't here so, well, it should be fine."

"Uh, ok..." I say. I slowly arise and walk to the door on the other side of the bathroom. How the heck had I not noticed that?