When you wake up the next morning you feel refreshed. When you get out of bed, you stand in front of the mirror. Staring at you from the mirror is a gothed-out version of your eighteen-year-old self in a nightgown. Nothing seems to have changed overnight, but all of the changes from yesterday come flooding back to your memory. Your feet itch and you look at your hair. The black and white mass is still as thick as ever, and without the boots to boost your height, it falls upon your bare feet and scrapes across the floor. Part of you wants to scream but mostly you have decided to accept the house's games.
You walk slowly to the bathroom and sit on the toilet, being very careful to hold your hair away from the bowl. Holding up so much hair is difficult, but you manage. After you're done you turn to the sink. As you do, you feel as though something has gotten into your eye. You turn on the water and begin to furiously flush the water into your eyes. Finally the feeling passes and your eyes feel better. You look up and can't help but scream this time.
Under you eyes, running just a few inches onto your now young full cheeks, it appears that the water has caused the coating of apparent eyeshadow under your eyes to run, leaving matching dark blue tear trails. Several trails now run from each eye. You vigorously rub at them with the rag from nearby but they won't come off. Like the rest of your makeup, they are now part of your permanent gothy appearance.
"WHY? WHY? WHY?" you cry, resigning within yet again to the house's plans for you. You make your way back to the bedroom to get dressed.