the day my flat turned into a toilet based one

ahaha flat become toilet brr

"WHAT THE HELL...?" I MUTTERED TO MYSELF AS I SURVEYED MY SURROUNDINGS.
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I stood up from the toilet seat that I'd made warm with my asscheeks (or bottom, if you'd prefer) from sitting on it for too long. well, if no one was going to warm your toilet seat for you, you were going to have to do it for yourself. independence was key, starting from the toilet seats.

I peered at the chocolaty brown piece bobbing up and down in those cruel waters, like a ship on rough waves. seems like I was healthy, at least. reaching over to end the little guy's fate from steeping in these cold, chilly waters for too long, setting him free into the sewers, I jammed my finger hard on the flush button, watching as the waters gobbled up the little guy like a whirlpool until he was going and gone.

"that was a good shit!" I breathed a sigh of relief as I reached out to open the door, expecting my family members to stand outside with their hot and angry faces ready to lecture me for hogging the toilet again. well, not like I could help it, my digestive system was one to be treated with the utmost care, and giving the waste materials that once resided in my hardworking organs a proper send off was also one of those.

I simply wasn't ready for the sight that greeted my eyes next, that had my jaw falling slack and hitting the floor, like right out of a satirical comedy series, eyes boggled out, or ready to shit my pants again.

the sight of the corridor outside my household's flat, the sight of my family members not standing in front of the door with impatient words hanging by their lips, but rather, sitting meekly at the corridor like homeless people.

the shock had caused my fight or flight instincts to act up - i slammed the door shut, once again, before blinking dumbly as I sank to the floor.

nooo way. nooo way in hell was this happening to me. this is a dream. NOO WAY.

gingerly, i reached out to prise at the doorknob again, sweaty hands pulling the door open to reveal the exact same sight i had saw just now, except this time a lot more people had joined my sad looking family members, all looking as homeless as they had been.

my throat turned dry as the reality hit me.

Oh SHIT. this isn't a dream. There's no way they would show a scene twice in a dream, it's too inconvenient for the brain to think up something twice of what it's trying to forget.

My legs quivered as I made my way out of the toilet, feeling weak and light headed as I approached my family members.

neither of them noticed me approaching until I spoke up first.

"Mom..." i called out weakly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

I felt my mother flinch at the touch, before slowly jerking her head around to face me - leaving me bewildered at the grief in her eyes, at the sheer tiredness of her hunched shoulders, at the remarkable eye bags beneath those dreadful sunken eyes.

as if she'd read my mind, she nodded weakly, her lips quivering as she tried her best to make out the next few words.

"Yes, it is as what you think..."

My father shuddered in response as the next sentence left her lips.

"...our flat has turned into a toilet."

my eyes widened in horror.

true, I'd expected this, based off my deduction earlier. I was no kudo shinichi, since anyone could have guessed from whatever I saw earlier, as much as I'd like to admit I was secretly a genius - but still, it came off as baffling to me, when I heard it in the flesh.

"This can't be..." i whispered, voice shaking. "There won't be any privacy for me now when I need my peace during my personal one to one in the toilet..."

what a horrifying thing to think about, i chose not to dwell upon, despite my mind constantly choosing to aggravate over the fact that I was robbed of such a privilege to spend time alone with myself in the toilet, free of the public eye, the opinions of others.

Because now, every single moment I spent in the toilet, it wouldn't be done with the same peace. I would be able to hear the sounds of others shitting with me, and as intimate as it felt such that I could develop connections with others in this way, i didn't like it. They would serve as unnecessary elements, and my shit might get embarrassed and scoot itself back.

I hated when that happened - what went out wasn't supposed to go back in. This was why even when failures were born, they couldn't make it back to their mother's wombs again, because it would be too late. Failures were failures.

"what would change of our lives now, mother?" I could only ask in that tense moment, as my mother's eyes flashed a look of knowing, the pain of understanding something she didn't want to know, didn't want to understand.

"Everything..."

A/N

finally felt like updating after a thousand years...honestly, this chapter turned out way more serious than when I pictured it in my head, but here's a mini update to make do for all the years I went on hiatus and didn't give as promised. as y'all can tell, shitting is a major recurring thing here, since we commonly associate that with toilets, and if you're disgusted...well. You brought this upon yourself. How could we go with the theme of toilets without bringing up shit? Though im sorry the action of shitting or shit itself has to described in such a manner - sometimes my writers brain cannot hone itself to tune down over details, thus over descriptive stuff of things you do not want to imagine are born.
I don't honestly know how to carry the story on forward, though it's a joke story, yes, but I don't want to give it a shitty ending without spice. Dare I say, I am a person of class - wouldn't want to come up with a half assed ending and call this book quits.
thats all from your author today, and please drink lots of water to not let constipation get to you, because constipation sucks (known from experience)