Chapter XIV: Not One Dry Towel


 

Alright. Let’s run down the list so we’re all on the same page.

-The psych ward won’t take Mom

-I still can’t walk and now I have no safe place to call home and no one to aid in my recovery

-I am poor

Shit was not looking good.

I crashed friends for the weekend and on Monday began the process of emergency residential admission into college. Citing the testimonials of three friends, six police reports and the cast on my very leg, I was granted rights to a dorm and given a move in date. Not having much longer I’d be displaced part of me wanted to feel a reprieve coming, but other parts of me had been conditioned to know better.

Another shoe was always bound to drop.

Someone I’d been casually seeing offered a spot on his couch for me, I knew however it came with the stipulation I’d have to fuck him.

Who cared?

I didn’t. This was about survival, not dignity, grace or any of that bullshit. This was about making it, sacrificing whatever it took to get out from under my family, and enduring as much as I had to so I could be someone or something whole someday.

Like many who have come before me, I did what I had to do to further my chances of survival and I do not regret that.

Sunrise came after the first night, I awoke with some feelings of shame and I desire to shower the stress off me.

“Sure, just FYI, I can’t afford my gas bill right now, so it’s shut off. But hey, cold shower will wake you right up.” He explained.

I’d run out of fucks to give at that point. Cold shower it was.

I wrapped my cast in a trash bag and duck taped it shut as best as possible, sat on the edge of the tub and took my whore’s bath. When finished I began searching around the bathroom for a dry towel.

Giant pile of dirty clothes- CHECK

Litter box that hadn’t been cleaned in ages- CHECK

Damp toilet paper rolls- CHECK

Dry towel? NOPE

Not.

One.

Dry.

Towel.

Here I am, I thought to myself as I gazed into the mirror.

Broken down. Soaking wet. Completely alone.

“What am I?”

“Why am I here?”

“Why is this happening again?”

The questions that always loomed over my inner dialogue when looking into my own reflection returned.

“I am nothing.”

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