Crybaby Boy

Chapter Five - Fate Wants to Strangle Me

Chapter Five - Fate Wants to Strangle Me

“Nothing’s always right in this world.  Even fate slips up sometimes.”

- Wiona Mason

All I’ll say is the following: I hope my current situation is just another one of fate’s slip ups.

            I emptied my pockets on the countertop after calming myself and looked around.  The bathroom was huge, I must be in a suite or something.  And look at all the soaps and shampoo!

            I weighed my options and decided to take a bath instead of a shower.  I couldn't remember the last time I had a bath.  They’re more relaxing, anyway.

            I plugged the drain, dumped various salts and bubbles in and let the water run and fill the tub, carefully adjusting the temperature.  It was a pleasant change not having to worry about being cooked alive and to have enough hot water.

            I watched the bubbles in the tub grow for a while before stripping, trashing my handkerchief in the silver waste bin and washing my face.  Figured it’d be more pleasant to have a bath without blood in the water.  I used some q-tips to clean the blood inside my nose, snorted out a bit more and finally sank into the warm, sweet scented water.

            I could feel my muscles relax merely from the temperature of the water.  God damn it, I felt like such a fucking girl.  Oh well, to hell with it.  Baths help me think, and unwind.

I soaked for a while, scrubbed clean and washed my hair.  That’s enough scented soap for me thank you very much.  I let the water drain and dried off with one fluffy towel.  It was ginormous, so I didn’t need a second one.

            I was about to put my clothes back on, but seeing the bloody state they were in, I just couldn’t.  Just because my family was pretty tight on cash didn’t mean we went around like slobs.  My mom made sure of that.

            I must admit I was disappointed though.  A perfectly good shirt had been ruined, and I was to throw out a perfectly good pair of pants, too….

            With the fan running, it was beginning to get cold in here.  I really needed to  find some clothes, but I’d rather stay in the bathroom, where it’s safe instead of being out there with that psychobitch Kristin and Robe….

            You know what?  Screw it.  I’ll go mad just sitting here and doing nothing.

            Einstein once said insanity was doing something repeatedly and expecting different results.  I think there are two kinds of insanity.  The kind Einstein defined, and then there’s the kind of insanity where you do nothing.  The kind of insanity where you go mad just sitting around, doing nothing and waiting for something to happen.

            At least I had towels, so I wouldn’t have to go out into the jungle completely uncovered, though I doubt anyone in the jungle would care.  Kristin and Robe both probably welcomed it.  That thought made me shudder.

            I spent a good ten minutes wrapping my towel around my waist and twisting it so it would stay up.  I never really got the hang of that trick, but it passed first inspection--it stayed up for longer than a few seconds without the use of my hands.

            I did an awkward little dance to double--and triple--check my cover would hold.

            I left the three or something dollars I had in change on the counter and took only the box cutter in my hand.  I slid down the safety lock and pushed the blade up, staring at its edge.  It made little clicks for each notch it slid up.