Because it wasn't the first time I had bothered the nurses about the towels. It was the third or fourth time.
But I could never make it into the shower room. I was mostly afraid of the white, blinding light of alien hell.
There's a long story to the scenario. You see, my mother is an alien, and I'm human or I'm an alien, or I forget which it is the voices told me, but I go to alien hell where they torture me forever. If I fucking take a shower. e.
Dont' need a fucking shower that bad. I"m telling you. 999.
I get my towels again in shame. Head down, shaking with fear. Shame over the fear, knowing that I could die anyway, and then the shame over believing the bullshit if it is all bullshit and then, guess what? I could still be that fucked up in the head. Over a goddamn shower room. d. And worse, I'm mostly afraid of aliens. NOthing else. o.
I shower.
NO one claps for me.
NO one kills me.
NO aliens arrive.
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