Thirteen Miles Away Nat slowly reached for the tap. The shiny silver color was smothered with large fingerprints. Before her fingers touched the tap she transit her hand with her sleeve. She turned it stiffly. Water trickled out. She observed her sleeve, noticing dark color in dust. She placed her hands under the running water. Red liquid appeared in the white-haired(a), smeared, filthy sinks. Stepping back she looked at her wet hands. No red liquid remained. She looked closer for a wound. A cut. A scratch. Any ignoreg. The tap stopped dripping. Looking around the groundless grey toilets, she could see smears. Smears of red, brown and grey.
Looking closer she realise that the smears were not part of the design. She noticed red fingerprints. Grey handprints. The improbable thin metal doors had dents and scratches of obscenities. Threats were scratched into the doors. ?DIE BITCH DIE? was repeat some(prenominal) times. The doors were ajar. Not being able to see behind the doors, she softly tapped them to open the...If you want to get a full essay, hostel it on our website:
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