Chapter Text
Everyone was yelling this evening.
Again.
I didn't like that. At least there wasn't guests over this time.
I think... I'll slip away tonight. Just to forget about it, if only for a little while.
First, I should get a towel and some scissors, and a spare set of clean clothes. Ooh, maybe I can nab a bath bomb as an offering.
You see, I have a secret.
There is a door in my room that no one else can see. It's right next to the bathroom door, too, but the insides are so much better. And if I lock the bathroom door too, no one asks why my hair was wet, they just assume I was in the bathroom, taking a bath. It gets slightly more complicated when my sister opens the bathrooms other door that goes into her bedroom and says I wasn't in there when I forget to lock that side, but nothing is perfect. (They always assume I just got my hair wet in my bedroom's sink area anyway, my secret closet is safe from investigation.)
Anyways, enough about my boring bathroom that everyone can see, I will tell you about the secret closet holding a better bathroom, the door that only I can see, and therefore is my secret, and I suppose its yours too now that I have told you about my closet.
Now that I have gathered my things, I will open the door to this secret closet and slowly describe the insides to you. Yanno, that suspense thing. However that works, Journal. ...will you grow eyes and legs and join me in the closet? No, yer made of paper and the closets full of water, please don't join me.
Okay, now the door. There is a peephole in it, so I can look out from the closet and make sure no one's in my bedroom when I am exiting it, and a cover I can swing over it from my bedroom if I don't want the closet's inhabitant(s) watching me. I flip the cover so it no longer blocks the peephole. I don't need to worry about any of my siblings messing with it since it's as invisible as the rest of the door, to them anyway. Lots of things are incomprehensible to them, like how I got my handprints painted on the roof. A bucket of paint and a ladder, maybe hanging off the eaves a little, what's so hard to understand about painting green handprints all along the edge of the roof when you have all the parts of the equation. I mean, I had to go all the way around the house if I wanted to make it back to the ladder instead of fall and go splat. My reputed not fear of heights may or may not have confused the issue, but I won the bet and the dra-
Wait, I need to go lock the side of the bathroom that connects to my sisters bedroom. It should be fine, she only uses the sink that is in her bedroom in the mornings and then she uses the toiletroom near the kitchen and it's sink after eating her morning meal. Hopefully. There's a reason I am glad she isn't in charge of the kitchen and diningroom. I'll be outta the closet in time to arrange some food in the morning for anyone bothered to to eat, probably. Everyone can manage with instant cereals if I get wrapped up in another witching hour bet that lasts past sunrise.
Anyway, back to the door. Already described it good enough for those who would never see it, lets open it. But first, I need to strip and arm myself with some scissors and a bath bomb. ...alright, clothes convincingly strewn all across my bedroom, bed unmade, sink dripping water, drawers partially open, and door to the hallway locked with my chair propped against the door in case someone jimmies the lock.
Preparations complete, I open the secret closet's door with my foot and slide in with my pile of neatly folded clean clothes and a towel under my two armpits, and scissors and a bathbomb occupying my hands, then lean back against the door until it satisfactorily clicks shut. I won't lock it, no point, I am the only one who can see it from that side and on this side I am the only one who would want to, or could, use it. No point in barring it only to have to fumble with it if I am in a hurry to reach my bedroom, or am running from something less friendly on this side, not that that's happened before but no point in risking it. It pays to be prepared!
Alrighty, now that I am in, I have one shelf and one hook on either side of the somehow narrow but not at all narrow closet. I put the bathbomb on top of the shelf and keep an eye on it, then put my clothes inside the shelf and put the towel over one of my arms. I grab the bath bomb, and I turn to the other side and angle my arm so that the towel lands on the hook and dangles without risk of falling. I yank on it with my teeth, it don't budge and I deem it secure. And that is the closet's entryway in a nutshell.
Now, with my armpits free I have some range of flexibility and turn away from the walls, in the opposite direction of the door. Now, Journal, you shall understand why my hair is wet whenever I exit the closet. The secret closet holds a strange section of upraised flooring, at first glance. At second glance, you realize there is some sort of rolling covering that opens on this upraised flooring, and that the non roller areas have a very long, scaly, dragon engraving that goes all around and you can't tell where it begins or ends and sometimes it looks like its moving but you know its a dragon since the dragon's head is positioned right where you open the rolling cover.
That's my buddy, the dragon I bet with. It guards the rolling cover to make sure nothing escapes. Imma offer it a bathbomb, as my token of appreciation. Course, I can't offer that until I open the roller and let dragon materialise, hovering over the raised area of the secret closets floor.
I place the scissors in my mouth, and the bathbomb in the indent on the carving of dragon's head, then reach over and with a great big huff push open the roller cover all at once so I don't have to push multiple times, then back off really fast as dragon swallows the bathbomb as it emerges from the carving and materialises, glowing orbs flying around it the same color as its crowning horns, that never stay the same color for more than ten minutes.
I spit the scissors outta my mouth and inta my non dominant hand, nonthreateningly holding it by the blades. I call out, "Yo dragon, wassup!" As usual, after opening the rolling cover in one go, my legs are sprawled on the floor and my dominant hand holds me up.
I get a look from dragon, then it just swirls around higher up near the not quite there ceiling and I stand up. Guess it liked the bathbomb and I don't have to do some ridiculous bet as payment for passage this night. Now, I look over the opened area, and surprise Journal it looks like an enourmous jaccuzi or whatever it is rich folk use with like sprayers in the side for bubbles or whatever. That's why my hair is wet, to pass through I swim down to the bottom of the tub, to the bottom that isn't really there and then I am surfacing in my new up, where the inhabitants of the secret closet that ain't dragon reside. That's a fancy word for live, by the way.
Now, dragon keeps guarding the roller thingy as an engraving so these guys don't get out for some reason, and as inane as dragon's bets can be it has to be keeping them out for some reason, so I don't ever stay the day or for too long in the other up at the bottom of the tub. Dragon's bets can be pretty stupid but usually they be funny and exciting and not directly harmful to me, so I trust it, as much as I do anything anyways.