I could feel that it was late when I woke up. Rolling back on my shoulder to look out the window, I saw the sun streaming straight in. "Dang," I huffed as my joints cracked to life. I took my time sitting up, my head throbbing from my sob session the night before. Knowing exactly what I probably looked like, I hid my face from the mirror that was haphazardly propped against the laundry basket at the foot of my bed.
My feet scraping against the warm wood, I scooted to the water closet that was luckily still in working order. Groaning, I pulled back the curtain that separated it from my sleeping quarters. I hated going into this moldy room. The tile was old and chipped, and the toilet bowl was permanently stained pink in the bottom from years and years of disuse and neglect. Cringing as I
