I bent down a little, stretching my back as I gazed steathily under the stall's wall to see empty space expanding down the way, no feet in sight. I quickly sat back up and straightened, dispising the weird feeling of wrong as my gym pants rustle against the porcelian toilet seat.

My toes wiggle inside my socks, pressing down against the rubber material of my sandels, the strap that covers the top of my foot still in good shape depsite my constant use of them.

I plant my feet atop my backpack, the bag at an angle, partially resting on the parenting book from my class that I had brought with me, packed with papers I would have rather thrown into my locker and forgotten about. My nose wrinkles at the sight of my hat on the floor next to the leather straps of my bag, caught underneath it as I put more weight on the small pile of items.

I look over to the toiletpaper roll next to the toilet, pondering why it was out of the dispensor, and rememebering the time I had experienced early when I knocked it off the metal container nearby.

Without looking, I know inside is a paper bag possible accompanied by some indecent toiliteries, the likes of which I would prefer not to invision. My eyes dart to my phone, checking the time for the 30th time, timing the time until the time says it is time.

"Come on.." I whisper and stiffen as I hear boots shuffle across the marble floor, listening to another student close the stall further down, near the entrance of the bathroom. The latch rattles as she locks it and drop her pants, earning a shiver from me.

I avert my eyes in the opposite direction of her sounds as she relieves herself, scorning the hushed sigh of relief she produces. I adjust my glasses as the toilet paper roll in her stall whirls on it's holster, ripping as she takes some to wipe.

She stands, or, I assume she does based off listening, and finishes with what she started, exiting the stall noisly, shaking the others connected to it, including mine.

I narrow my eyes and look over the frame of my glasses at the floor ahead, glaring at the corner that I can see under my stall's door, not much of a view. I don't make any noise as the girl leaves, noting the absence of the sink running water from its faucet or the pumping of the lever resembling device to get paper towels.

Sitting back, I check the time again and leisurely begin to collect my belongings, shuffling through it to insure I have everything before readying to leave as well.

Pulling my arms behind my back and resting my knuckles against the rough bricks of the wall behind me, I stretch luxoriously, relishing the cracks and pops that emit from beneath my flesh, crashing a wave of pleasure and relaxation over my sore nerves.

I adjust my hat so the long strands of hair are tucked beneath it, making sure it's straight and my bangs are perfect, framing my hardened features.

As the bell rings, I stand and step out from my stall, checking over my relfection with a quick swipe of my gaze. I begin to leave the bathroom and lift my phone into my view, smiling softly at the scrawls of text on the screen before tapping the click box in the corner that reads "PUBLISH."