I inspect my room once more, my stomach aching with anxiety. I walk in circles, paying close attention to every detail in the carpet on my floor. I bite the skin on my fingers as I think of all the things that lay beneath the carpet. A shiver runs through me as I think of how dirty it is, no matter how much I clean it I always feel its dirty.
I stare down at the food of me and I still feel dirty. My stomach will remain empty for tonight and tomorrow. Maybe then I will not feel dirty.
I run my hand through my hair one two three times, and I close my eyes. I wish I could feel clean.
