Don't Drink the Water

         Glistening, flowing, cooling, and clear. All was needed was a drop. Just one. At least that was what I was used to. As it trickled down the faucet, it seemed as if it were mocking me, “c’mon, just a sip.” No! All I could remember was my teachers telling me “don’t drink the water,” “don’t let the water get in your mouth,” “only drink from the bottle,” “don’t drink the water.” My hand reached for the silver handle, and as I twisted it to the right, a shower of water was released. I knew that once I entered, I would be in danger. Each step I took, my body became tense and I could hear my heart beating. My foot was the first to be sacrificed to this unknown enemy and as each toe met the cold glass, I knew I had to do this one way or another.

            The water beat against my back, like rain on a stormy day. All that was needed now was to convince my head to get under. I felt like a child again, just learning how to swim, unable to stick my head under the water. It was a battle with myself, and I knew which side would have to win; my head had to go under. I knew it was a risk because water could easily run down my face and into my mouth, but it was a chance I had to take. So, I held my breath and quickly moved my head into the flurry of water.

            I let the last strand of hair fall back down to its regular position and let the water rush over it. Turning the silver handle to the left, the water stopped falling and I could finally stop holding my breath. Even though I was out of the water, there was still water sticking to my body and my face. With two hands I brought the snow white towel to my face. As it absorbed the water, I could finally feel safe. Once I was sure I had dried all the remaining water on my body, I hung up the towel and quickly got dressed. It was late and my roommate still had to take a shower and ready herself for bed. I got my toothbrush and filled a glass with water from the faucet, intending to rinse my mouth with it when I was done brushing my teeth. Picking up my purple toothbrush, I once again made sure not to put it under the faucet. I took a water bottle and poured a little onto the bristles of the toothbrush. “Three weeks of this, how am I going to survive?” Everything was so different than what I was used to in America. I put my toothbrush down and picked up the glass ready to rinse my mouth when I remembered; I had gotten the water from the faucet! I set the glass down, disgusted. I absolutely did not want to get sick and I knew I would do everything I could to remember not to drink the water. As I gathered my things, I completely forgot about the glass of water, so when I left the bathroom, I left that glass of water sitting on the counter.

        Stepping into the bedroom of the hotel room, the smell of fresh linen surrounded me. The bed’s white sheets with white pillows looked like a cloud, waiting for me to hop on. Throwing my clothes on top of the unzipped suitcase, I skipped a few steps and did a cannonball into my bed. Pulling up the covers so only my eyes popped out, made me feel safe and warm. In bed, I was away from the water, away from the unknown, away from anything that would ruin the next three weeks of my life. Suddenly, I realize I am not alone. “Hey, uhhhhh Megan, are you, um, done in the bathroom?” I quickly sit up straight, pulling the blanket off of my face. “Oh yeah, go ahead. I am all done in there for tonight,” I say nicely. I know it has been a long day for everyone, so I try to be as patient as possible. “Haha, alright. I guess I will be out soon,” she says as she makes her way into the bathroom empty handed. “Wait, you forgot your things!” I remind her. She comes out of the bathroom and gently hits her head, “Silly me, always forgetting things.” Once again, she makes her way back into the bathroom, and when I hear the door click, I pull the cloud of blankets over my face again. Being alone, I think of a lot of things. From missing home to the next three weeks, I cannot stop thinking about everything. I realize that I am overthinking, so I shake my head, trying to erase all the thoughts rushing through my brain. Now that my brain is clear I start to doze, but I am unexpectedly interrupted. I sit up pulling the blanket back and I see that my roommate it back in the room, unshowered. “Is everything okay?” I ask her confusingly. “Yep, just forgot my shampoo,” she says to me shaking the bottle of Pantene shampoo. For the third time, she shuts the bathroom door and I fall backward on my back. “I am probably not going to get any sleep tonight,” I say to myself. Giving up on trying to get sleep right now, I switch on the television only to find shows and movies in Mandarin. After switching through about fifteen channels, I settle for a movie in English about boxing. After the main character and his buddy say something funny I start to laugh and get cozy in my bed once again.

            CRASH! My eyes jolt open and I turn my head to the right and glance at the alarm clock. About a half hour has passed since I last checked the clock. “I must have fallen asleep,” I think to myself. Then I remember the huge noise I heard that came from the bathroom. The bathroom door quickly opens, and my roommate stumbles out into the room. I look at her and I can see in her eyes that something is wrong. “What is it? What was that noise? Are you okay?” I ask her quickly. As I speak she stares at me, not moving, or saying a word. I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom. I step on to the moist tiles and glance around the room. When my eyes reach the counter, my eyes fix on the glass of water that I left there. I take two steps and pick up the glass. Turning over the glass of water, I can now see that the glass is completely empty.