We were out of paper towels and didn’t even have any of the leftover napkins mother would grab in large handfuls when getting take-out fast food, so I would have to make do with a rag from the bathroom. I practically crawled to the bathroom, timidly stretching my hands out in front of me to make sure I didn’t knock anything over that would add to the commotion I had already made.
As I stood up in the bathroom and rummaged through a storage shelf for a cleaning rag I could use, I felt a painful rumble in my stomach, but this time it wasn’t because I was hungry. A week or more must have passed since I had drunk any milk, and it wasn’t sitting well in my stomach. I was beginning to feel pressure building up in my bowels, like a balloon that is being inflated to the point of bursting.