I grasped the sides of the doorway to keep myself from falling. Or falling in the gunk. Veins poked through my hands. My muscles tensed. For a couple seconds, I felt as if my soul had exited my body. A foul odor filled my nostrils. The smell of mixed ingredients. I looked away and gagged. But I was more taken aback and confused than disgusted. Questions plagued my brain.

Did I actually see that? Did I just see what I think? Is it my slime? Or am I overthinking all this? Was my slime what Dad pulled out of our pipes? Is that why his hand was covered in red-and-purple slop? If it was definitely the slime, how did it get clogged in the pipes? How did it get from the large box in my closet to the pipes in my bathroom?

I remembered Brooklynn pouring the slime in the box. I did not see her take some...but she could have. While I was distracted, she might have snuck some inside her pocket. But why would she? To play with? No. To put it in Megan's bag or something else of hers? Or...

No, Serenity. Brooklynn did not pour it in the sink. She would not do something so cruel, especially to her best friend. She would never do it on accident either. She is smart enough to know that you never pour slime down the drain. Otherwise...it will be all over the place.

When I could not gag anymore, I released the doorway and turned back to this overwhelming mess that made my bathroom unrecognizable. The walls and floor were completely covered in the red-and-purple slime. It was dripping off those walls and onto the floor. Huge drops were on the sink. Both cabinet doors beneath said sink were wide open. A small gasp left my throat. Slime was oozing out from the cracks of the pipes and running off the cabinet floor and to the sticky floor like a waterfall.

"I know that Dad said to not touch it," I whispered, not wanting my parents to hear me. "But he does not know what this truly is."

I bent down and ran two fingers across the slimy floor. My slime made a sickening noise. I brought my fingers to my face and examined the slime. Then I smelled it. I shook it off and hurried into my room. It was the slime that I made for Brooklynn's plan.

I swung open my closet doors and pulled out my box of failed slimes. I yanked off its lid and dug both hands in the mix of slimes, searching for that brand new slime. I knew that it was not in here, but part of me was hoping so I would not need to find out just how it wound up in the pipes.

"Huh?"

On the side of the plastic box was some slime. I peered in my closet - and saw a trail of red-and-purple slime. I stood and followed said trail. It left the closet and went past the bed. Past the desk. It trailed between the large windows and ended at my air vent only a couple inches from said windows. My eyes widened. I returned to my bathroom and looked for its air vent. It was lower than mine. I knew where it was, but I could not see it thanks to the splattered slime. It was as if it exploded!

I checked the stairs and both ends of the narrow hall to make sure that my parents were not around. I held out my foot and stepped on the slime. Squuuiiish. I put my other foot down. Squuuiiish. I spotted a broom next to the sink. It did not have much slime on it. So I trudged to it and gripped it in both hands. I teared the slime off the bristles and used the broom to wipe slime off a wall until I came across the air vent. I cleaned it and put the broom against the wall. I then took off the register and squinted. Inside that vent was a trail of red-and-purple slime.

The register fell from my hands. I placed a hand on the sticky wall to steady myself. I breathed hard as I stared at the vent. How did the slime get through it?

Was it...alive?

I slapped my face for considering something so absurd - with my hand that touched my slime.

"Crub," I hissed.

Slime clung to the hair strands closest to my face. Tiny drops fell off my nose and chin and disappeared in the slime pool below. I stomped to the sink. The slime was oozing down my face. It looked as if I were crying these purple-and-red tears.

I reached for the towel, but stopped. I did not want the stupid slime to ruin a perfectly good towel. I ripped off a long strip of toilet paper and quickly cleaned my hair and face. It did not take long. The slime easily clung to the toilet paper, even when it was on my hair. I pushed the now dripping toilet paper down the small trash bin that had big drops on it too. I checked my face again. It was clean. No slime on it.

Squish, squish!

I was startled by the loud squishes. I figured that it was Mom or Dad stepping on the slime. I would never hear the end of it from Dad.

I gazed over my shoulder - but I did not see either Dad or Mom. Nobody was behind me. I glanced back at the mirror covered by small drops. But I could still see me. From the corner of my eye, I saw something moving in said bin. Growing. I took a step back and stared at it in horror.

Slime - probably from the toilet paper - grew and grew. It went over the bin and engulfed it.