Then I Sat in the Bathroom and Shook My Face With the Coldest Water I Could Summon.

I scrubbed my face with the coldest water I could summon, then looked into the mirror to find that a vessel in my left eye had broken. A small child's flower print dress clung to the rear wall of the bathroom. As I watched, a thin trickle of murky blood peaked out from behind the ruffled collar and slid down over the top three buttons. It dripped down onto the toilet tank, striking it with dime-sized droplets. Someone was waiting for me there. His hands were laced behind his back. He wore a clean white shirt and tan khaki pants.