LGBT

I looked in the mirror, at the flaccid zits and the unsure hairs trying to grow out of my face. When did my nose get so large? I was a beautiful child; my eyes drifted downwards. Crest, scissors, blue/red plastic cups (repeating). The metal faucet was caked in rust now, formerly President George Washington, now a mere shadow of. My hands were dry and their skin flaky and hungry. My fingernails hastily cut at extreme, sharp angles. My eyelashes long as a girls, my eyebrows nearly connected.

"Come out now," mothers voice. Sharp crack in my spine: "yes!" I turned towards the doorknob and sniffed the air: electric heat and discarded semen. I could now imagine my mother outside of this room, with no recollection of what I was doing. The lights above the sinked buzzed and flickered, inviting me.

"One moment," I said. I turned to the bath and made the water come out. The sound of the water hitting the dirty tiles was nothing compared to the screaming the pipes made: it was endless Hell. I could hear my mother yelling, tugging at the door. Locked. The rectangle form of the bathroom seamed to threaten to fall in on itself. The wooden boards that held it all together creaked and groaned sadly.

Urgh. Yes. I turned to the mirror and pulled my face as close to it as possible. I grabbed the tip of my fleshy nose between my thumb and forefinger and pulled upward, till I looked like a disgusting pig. My breath came out in short bursts, tickling my arm. I could now see the long hairs stretching out of my nostrils like tentacles. I let go of myself and stepped backward. 

I paused. I felt water at my feet.

The scissors? Ah, yes. Coital, cozy within my flesh. Backspace; I had grabbed them and stuffed them into my skin, which twisted like a crater upon contact. Warm. The lights flickered on, off. On, off. On, off. I could now hear my mother screaming louder, the pipes screaming louder, the water sloshing and moving around my feet. I looked back into the mirror at myself, &laughed &laughed &laughed. 

"Oh, oh, oh!" I strained to make my voice heard above everything, above my pain. "Oh mother! I've finally found my hairline!"

I felt a tingle inbetween my legs. 

Screaming pipes, sloshing water, screaming mother.

"Finally! Am I your boy mother?"

Water at my ankles, wet pants wet pants, teeth gnashing, angry dog angry b***h.

"Am I your boy?"

I could see her now, the w***e.

"Am I your boy!"

Author's Note

i thrive on others creativity...written after reading two or so pages of 'the screamers'. being in the bathroom always inspires me to write for some reason, oh well. this sucks probably, i wrote it and didn't really look it over