I walked into the bathroom with a change of clothes. I was panting and out of breath from going for a jog after destroying the dummies. The dummies; that was something we had in common. I just acted so stupid around Madeline. That was probably because I liked her so much. I don't really know why I even did. Probably because she was so like me. Arrogant, brusque, and conniving. There was, obviously, the fact that she ridiculously pretty.
Why was I thinking this through in the bathroom? I sighed, and took off my old clothes. They were covered in sand in blood, so I just threw them out. I got into the shower, and momentarily thought about how difficult this would be for Madeline. I could have- No. Stop it. You're never seeing her again. She doesn't like you. She's just attracted; she liked me, but didn't care about me. I should just stop associating with her.
I was thinking about a relationship while naked in a bathroom. Again. I needed to just stop that. I got into the shower, and sighed contentedly when the warm water hit me, but then winced when it hit my knuckles. They were red and irritated at the best, and cut, bruised, and mildly fractured at the worst. I mentally noted that I would need some ambrosia. I cleaned myself off well, and got out of the shower and dried off. I got on my new clothes. I still scoffed at my sense of style, because it didn't exist. My hair had been cut with a knife, and my clothes were just whatever felt comfortable. So I was in a loose-fitting red shirt with khaki shorts and plain sandals. I pushed my hair into a way that looked acceptable. I walked toward the door. It was time to do my best to hide from Madeline, because I really didn't want to have to confront her. I just wanted to have a life, find what job I could do in this modern world. I sighed and left the showers.
Subject: Re: Showers . . 
3/5/2012, 9:19 pm
