Mens Room-Personal Narrative

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Almost to the point of now visibly shaking, I staggered forward a few more steps and then realized that I had come to the end of the hallway. The passage at its end had split into two directions, which I had assumed one way would led to the Mens’ room and the other to the Womens’. Instinctively, I chose to go right and had come to yet another door. I hadn't paid any attention to it at the time, but I believe if I can recall correctly, that the door didn't have any sign posted on it that would have signified it as being either the Mens or the Womens washroom. Such a thing should have been obvious, but I had paid it no thought. Probably because I was still upset from my run in with the waiter, and not to mention still feeling unnerved by the woman in the red dress and that little boy, both of them with their hollowed-out eyes. As I passed through the door, I instantly found myself standing in an alcove looking into Rudy’s very busy …show more content…

Her eyes were also of the same black voids as the little boy’s and the singing lady. She held a craft in her hand, and I watched her closely as she walked over to a refrigerator and opened its door. Inside was the Miller's little boy. He was strung up upside down, his feet held to the ceiling of the refrigerator after being pierced through by metal hooks. His clothing all removed, and his arms severed at the pits. Someone had slit his throat, ear-to-ear, exposing a cavernous wound that made him look like a PEZ dispenser. His blood had poured out from his body and been collected in a large plastic container at the base of the refrigerator where the waitress then used a large ladle to scoop it out, filling up the craft. When it became filled almost to the brim with the red, syrupy fluid she closed the refrigerator door and then headed back out into the

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