She struggles violently against my arms before sinking her perfectly manicured nails deep into the flesh of my forearm. I bite my lip and swallow the pain as water splashes up out of the toilet and soils the place around us. The cold, dirty water slaps my face, seeps into my clothes, and clings to my hair. This only annoys me. I sigh and press the entirety of my body into hers, pushing her further into despair. This girl, bleach blonde with bright pink highlights that match her nail polish, represents everything wrong with the world.

She is the vanity we need to purge ourselves of.

This thought motivates me so I frown and continue to keep the girl’s head submerged. Finally, she relents and goes limp against the toilet seat. When I drop her head it bangs against the ceramic bottom. I find myself just staring at the girl and I have to remind myself that someone like her, someone less than offal, deserves this.

I retreat from the stall and notice that I bring with me a trail of toilet water. I close the door, blocking the lifeless body from view. One look in the mirror and I find a rather disturbing image glaring back. I wipe away my now smudged mascara with the back of my hand as I take in my ruined uniform, the foundation dripping down my face, and the mess of brown curls hanging down onto my forehead. My face burns with embarrassment as I look back towards the black stall door. Somewhere beside that dead girl lies my pride. Euphemisms aside, the grotesque creature before the mirror is like something I have never seen before, an oddity. A misfit. My calm, cool facade is no match for the mess I made. No words could un-dig the grave I have made.

I rip off my apron with an aggression I once suppressed.. Leaving only a five dollar tip and a bottle of sanitizer behind, I shake away the negativity and move towards the door. I feign confidence and push open the door. I stride through the doorway like Juno— elegant and protective.

I just rid the world of an unruly customer.

Janus is watching over me, proud of my new beginning, as I glide through the restaurant, inching myself closer and closer to my manager.

“I quit!” I announce as my way of valediction, my hatred now directed at the one who deserves it the most. I turn and dash out of the door, leaving minimum wage behind. The moment my feet hit the sidewalk, the warm summer air wraps around me like a cloak and the sun hisses in my ear. As I walk I close my eyes and listen to the symphony of sirens floating somewhere in the distance. A childlike joy envelopes me, and everything I will ever be, and a smile rips through my features. A tidal wave of emotions consumes me as the weight of my actions falls onto my shoulders.

Still, I am free.