Chapter 3
I couldn't hold it in any longer. I hugged Margaret and burst into loud sobs.
"I lost my job, Sawyer hit me... I don't know why. It feels like the whole world is against me."
My voice choked with tears, I haltingly told them about my day.
"What? Just because you wiped your hands?"
After hearing the story, my roommates' faces were full of disbelief and anger.
"Sawyer is just a scumbag. A violent psycho. Let's go confront him."
"Yeah. You can't just let this go. He has to apologize to you."
They were furious, rolling up their sleeves, ready to go demand an explanation from Sawyer.
"Stop crying for now. Go wash your face. Calm down a little."
The gentlest one of them all, Margaret, held me back, her voice full of concern.
"We'll get the first aid kit. Your face is all swollen."
The other two roommates chimed in; one went to find the medical kit, the other went to pour me warm water.
A wave of warmth washed over me, and my tears flowed even harder.
It was okay. I still had them.
They were the ones who truly cared about me.
I walked over to the sink in the bathroom and turned on the faucet.
The cold water on my face cleared my foggy mind a little.
After washing my face, I looked at my wretched self in the mirror. Soap suds and water droplets slid down my arms.
Out of habit, I reached for the tissue box nearby.
My fingers had just touched the box when the two scenes from the company and Sawyer's place flashed back.
My hand froze in mid-air.
I couldn't use paper.
I quickly pulled my hand back, my eyes searching around the bathroom.
My towel was hanging on the wall.
Right, use the towel.
Using a towel to dry my hands should be fine, right?
I took down the towel and carefully, bit by bit, dried the water droplets from my hands.
Just as I finished, a loud crash of a chair falling over came from behind me.
Followed by three piercing screams.
I spun around.
I saw my three roommates, their faces deathly pale, staring at me as if they'd seen a ghost.
Their eyes were filled with fear and disgust.
Margaret, usually the gentlest, now had a vicious expression on her face.
She grabbed the stainless steel thermos from the table and hurled it hard at my head.
I instinctively covered my head.
Scalding hot water poured down my back, instantly raising several large blisters.
The other two roommates also went crazy.
One picked up a broom, the other a stool, and hit me.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy."
I covered my head, dodging in the cramped dormitory.
"I used a towel to dry my hands. Is that wrong too?"
They wouldn't listen to my explanation, cursing nonstop.
"Disgusting. Freak. Shameless."
"Get out of our dorm. You're not welcome here."
They cornered me against the wall, the broom and stool raining down on me like hail.
I desperately protected my head, feeling like I was about to be beaten to death.
Seizing a moment when they were off guard, I scrambled and crawled out of the dorm.
Covered in wounds, bleeding and bruised, I rushed downstairs.
The dorm supervisor Amara's office light was on.
I clung to this last shred of hope, stumbling frantically into the dorm supervisor Amara's office.
"Amara, help me."
Amara was knitting a sweater. Seeing my terrible state, she was so startled she dropped her yarn.
"Oh my God. What happened to you?"
Her heart ached for me. She quickly stood up from her chair to support me.
I remembered Amara; she was always so kind.
She usually treated me like her own daughter, always secretly saving me a share of any tasty treats she had.
She took the first aid kit from a drawer and began tending to my wounds with gentle movements.
The cotton swab dipped in iodine stung as it touched my wounds, making me gasp.
"Was it those girls in your dorm? Did they bully you?" Amara asked heartbrokenly while cleaning the blood. "Tell me, I'll go teach them a lesson for you."
I cried and shook my head, tears falling in big drops. "I don't know, I really don't know why."