The door to the shower was cracked open. All William could see was the heavy mist making its way through the one-inch gap and seeping into the hallway. He heard the water running but no people talking or moving around. All he could think about was going inside and drinking every delicious ounce of the liquid that came from the nozzle. Not even Paris or his hunger could find room in his mind.

Water was so close and yet it could have been on an entirely different planet. The planet he was on was as arid as the Sahara and the one behind the door was an island oasis. A river of desperation began to take form in William's veins. His urge to make a blistering run for the water put away all thought of potential capture. Finally, after several minutes of unbroken desire, he gave in.

William pushed open the cold, steel door. Steam flew around every which way, from the current of the opening door. Astonishingly, no one was inside. Only the falling water, which stood before William like a beautiful prize for having gotten so far. He rushed up to it and drank. He felt the water flow down his pipes and into his shriveling stomach. The sensation at that moment was greater than all imagination. No amount of hoppy ale could ever hope to achieve that same overwhelming fulfillment and joy. As hot as the water was, it felt cool and refreshing, as if it were served on ice from a natural spring. When the water washed over his face and filled his belly, he felt rejuvenated.

He then became nauseous. He drank too fast on too empty of a stomach. He wiped away the water from his face and sat down on the edge of the old, porcelain tub. It had cracks all around the bottom and led to a rusted drainage hole. He looked around the room, taking a moment to realize just how lucky he was to have stumbled upon a running shower. He had been in such a lowly state of mind his entire life, constantly losing any battle he picked. That night though, he found water and escaped Father's grasp.

When certain emotions have never been experienced, they can be nearly impossible to identify in words. There was no way to explain the pleasurable feeling that came over him while sitting on the edge of that shower. It was a feeling that exuded from the chest, within the lungs, and up and around his head. It gave William a sense of encouragement and power. He may not have known the word for it, but it was, most definitely, pride.

Running his fingers along the wet bath, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. The room was not as small as many of the others - larger than his own, even. The ground was a hard, grey concrete. The tub was connected to a silver water pump, resembling a bulky oxygen tank. That way, only the exact amount of water needed for any occasion could be used and manually heated by a built-in cooker at the bottom. Father liked that way of doing things; it let William know when his time spent cleaning himself was over.

The feeling of pride did not last long, however. A running shower without a person using it was illogical and he had a strange feeling swell up inside. Raising both hands, he started to gently massage his forehead and eyes. He let down his hands and they felt heavy, causing his right one to slip off the tub. He looked at the grey concrete floor below him at his feet, which seemed to double and triple.

"What the hell?" William thought.

His legs and feet were now split, the second set appearing slightly transparent. His head felt heavy, and he realized it was becoming hard to move his limbs. His eyes were heavy too, needing more concentration to keep them open. He looked at his hands, which seemed as if they were melting in and out, side to side. They wiggled around like worms in the rain. It was so odd; they felt perfectly straight and yet they distorted wildly. He noticed some blue liquid on his fingers.

William then lifted his head towards the doorway, feeling like he was lifting the weight of the world with it. In the doorway stood a girl, wrapped up from her breasts to her thighs, like a cocoon, in a blue towel. She looked at him with her eyes open wide in shock and her mouth squeezed as tight as possible.

"Paris. What's... what's happen.. ing," He tried to say.

All that could come out of him was an incoherent mumble of words. Then, he saw behind her a man which must have been the "Father" who took her. He looked at William with a crude grin and had one hand on the girl's shoulder, fingers gripping her neck.

He was big. He had never seen someone so overweight, but he was certainly the definition of the word. His head was bald and his nose was distinctly large. The eyebrows were barely there, and his ears were big enough for three of William's. The picture of them standing there seemed unreal. His eyes were beginning to play tricks and his vision moved closer and farther away, in rhythm with his pounding heart. He could feel every organ in his body working and it only proved to increase his anxiety and flushed him with a powerful fear.

Gripping the tub as hard as he could, he tried to stand. His body was a thousand pounds. As soon as he stood up, his body twisted over to the left and he slipped and fell onto his back, facing the running shower. He could do nothing but lay there helpless on the floor. His arms and legs were spread out like a snow angel, eyes focused on nothing but the water. Small streaks of the blue liquid came out of the nozzle. He realized then that he had been tricked. All he had accomplished was a drink of tainted water from the Devil's oasis.

Footsteps came from the large man behind him. His vision became even more distorted, and the water started to change into odd, red, and brown shapes. The shapes were constantly morphing and growing bigger and smaller. They went from recognizable shapes to ones that resembled the squiggly lines he used to draw as a child. The shapes started to fly around the room, pouring out of the showerhead by the gallon. They flew around like a hurricane had formed. Some of them went up and down, others went left and right. His vision darkened and then became clear again, and then darkened once more. The shapes were then becoming maple leaves, rushing down and around him by the thousands. He stared in awe at the hallucination. Seconds were minutes and each breath took an hour.

Then, with one last moment of complete clarity, all of the leaves stopped in mid-air and shot up with immense force to the ceiling, covering the walls around him. His body became immovable and pulsated with warmth, becoming number with each ever-slowing heartbeat. The sound of the shower became duller with every creak that came from the water tank's valve. His eyes began to shut, and a single leaf broke off from the rest, directly above him. It glided brilliantly downward, circling as it fell. The rest of them followed, drifting in unison around William, like a flock of herrings.

One last thought entered his brain. "Where do I... hide you from Him?" William closed his lumbering eyes and drifted off.