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That Girl Who Wanders

She cringed as she inhaled another breath heavy with the tangy smell of chemicals. They’d used some floral shampoo scent to mask the bleach and failed tremendously, only creating a smell that would linger in her subconscious for years and leave her with an aversion to freesia. But sinks weren’t well ventilated so her only options were to pull out and leave puddles all over the floor or stand still and deal with it. So she stood, digging her fingers frantically into her scalp to help the cold water rinse the slime from her hair.

When the silky feeling had washed out and her hair felt like someone’s parched lawn, she risked a quick peek from her squinted eyes. The water was still circling the drain with a slight gray tint, but it was mostly clean. It had to do, she couldn’t bear the smell or the freezing water any…

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