Flushing the Past
Ethan sat huddled in a corner of his parents’ bathroom as far from the toilet as possible. He held both sides of his head as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Please, stop. Please!”
The toilet sat there, staring at him with its creamy porcelain perfection. It was as it always had been, except now water pushed up from the bowl and dribbled over the seat. In seconds, pills and small baggies followed.
Ethan shook his head. “No, please! It’s not fair. It’s not fair!”
A dark, grease-covered hand lifted from the toilet and gripped the side, pulling itself up.