There was blood on the bathroom floor, on his hands, and running down the sides of his head. Sharp scissors were lying on the wet tile floor, among long, choppy locks of blond hair.

Eileen had woken up to an empty bed again, and heard the water running in the bathroom, which was unusual. Hardly anyone ever went in there besides her when she wanted to shower.

Despite her grogginess, she arose quickly to see if it was little Walter, just to make sure that if he was going to use the shower he had some clean towels and clothes to change into. When she stepped out into the hallway, however, little Walter was knocking impatiently on the door.

"Dad!! Dad, what are you doing in there??"

"...Dad?"

Little Walter looked up at her with worry in his big, hazel eyes, "Dad went in there, and he was crying. I don't want Daddy to cry..."

"...you mean Walter?"

"I'm Walter." The little boy said.

Eileen sighed, not in the mood to question the Walters and knocked on the door, "Walter?"

"Go away."

She stepped back slightly, raising an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"Go away."

Eileen sighed, "I think ...'Daddy' is just having one of his moods again. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of him. Trust me, okay?"

Little Walter smiled and made his way back into the living room where he began digging through the large chest full of toys he had collected. Eileen went back to the door and sighed, wondering what a crying Walter would be doing in there. Sleeping next to her couldn't have been that bad, could it?

"...hey..." Eileen said gently, "Walter, what's wrong?"

After an almost painful silence, Walter finally replied, "I... I messed it up."

"Messed what up?"

"...I... I don't want... don't... just go away."

"Come on now, you went through twenty one people to get me here and now you want me to go away? ...what's wrong? Maybe I can help."

Eileen turned the knob slowly, realizing it was unlocked, "Can I come in?"

"...please don't laugh at me."

She could only imagine what he had done to make her laugh. Had he tried cutting his hair or something? Eileen fought back an amused grin at the thought and stepped in. When she saw him, any traces of a smile had quickly vanished as she closed the door behind her. He sat on the floor, wearing only blood stained khaki pants, with small streams of blood trickling down his back and shoulders. Scissors had been thrown aside, and lay on the floor near a small puddle of water.

There were chunks of hair scattered about, cut frantically and chopped impatiently. Walter, huddled over in a fragile, almost humiliated-looking state still had long, thick strands hanging past his face.

"God, Walter, are you alright?"

"I fucked it up."

Eileen knelt down beside him, turning off the running shower faucet. She carefully looked over his face for the source of the bleeding. There were a few gashes near his temple, and some trails of blood implied frustrated gashes at his scalp. He looked away, as if trying to escape her eyes.

"No, you didn't. You just got a little frustrated and threw in the towel too soon..." Eileen said, still looking over his body for any more wounds, "What made you want to cut your hair off though?"

He looked nervous suddenly, hands starting to shake as he was visibly searching for the words to what he felt, "I-I... I wanted... I wanted to look different. I wanted to be different."

"Different?" Eileen smiled, "Why? ...it wouldn't be you if you were trying to be different."

Walter was again searching for words, looking down at the wet tile anxiously as he spoke, "I wanted to be normal."

Eileen wasn't sure how to respond. She knew there was far more he wanted to say, but all he could do was reduce it to just that. 'Normal'. 'Different'. She wasn't about to question it.

"I wanted to be normal for you."

She felt tears forming, and her throat tightening. Eileen fought back the urge to cry. The two both knew that even slight 'normality' was a pipe dream.

There was little else exchanged between the two. Little Walter, out in the living room building a castle out of blocks, caught a glimpse of Eileen on her way to the laundry room. She was wiping tears from her eyes, and returning quickly with some towels, "Mommy? ...are you hurt?"

Eileen stopped, looking back at him with a smile. She shook her head, wiping any remaining tears quickly, "No, sweetie, I'm fine. I was just a little worried about Walter. Are you alright out here?"

The calm and gentleness in her voice reassured him as he nodded cheerfully, "I'm alright. Is Daddy alright?"

With a soft laugh she nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, he's fine."

It was an answer that pleased the little boy, who went back to his block castle. He couldn't wait to finish it and show Mommy and Daddy. It would make them both really happy, he thought.

There wasn't much to fix other than stray, long chunks of uncut hair. The man on the bathroom floor hadn't had anything in mind when he began snipping. Just 'short'. Like all the other men. They were all normal. They were all happy. They had all snidely given him dirty looks as they walked by with their beautiful girlfriends or wives. He had never wanted to be like those men. But for once… just maybe, he thought, with Eileen beside him, he could be somebody else for just a moment.

Walter watched a long strand fall down onto the towel Eileen had strewn over his shoulders. She worked quietly, evening out the choppy locks and wincing slightly at the slowly healing wounds. Occasionally he would get a chill as she dabbed a cold, wet towel over the streaks of blood going down his back.

"It's sweet of you, Walter... but..."

"...you liked it better long, didn't you?" He said with a cynical half-smile.

"I... ...yeah." Eileen sighed, "But I think eternity is more than enough time for it to grow back."

"Tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Every twenty-one hours, the world returns to its initial state. It will never truly change. Any wounds will heal over the day and be gone by nightfall."

The touch up to his haircut was finished. Eileen stepped back with a smile, "You're all done."

Walter stood, and for the first time since he had entered the bathroom, looked at his reflection in the slightly cracked mirror. He hadn't had short hair since he graduated high school and left the strict Wish House. It had almost been like a form of teenage rebellion back then, when he opted not to keep cutting so short, and as the years passed, he had grown used to seeing it reach his shoulders. Again it was short. Only slightly shorter than the child's.

He gently tugged the towel off, "...thank you."

Eileen had noticed the marks on his shoulders before; one night when he had been tossing and turning in a futile attempt to sleep. Finally, in frustration, he had pulled off his jacket and the black tee shirt beneath, revealing a body with many faint scars and two deeply... 'burned' sigils in his shoulders. They were less like tattoos and more like they had been branded onto his skin. Seeing them again in better light revealed very intricate glyphs, like runes, bordering the sides and a triangular design in the center.

"Sorry." Eileen quickly apologized when she realized he knew she was staring.

"For what?"

"It was rude of me to stare. ...what are they?"

"...Virun crests. For Valtiel."

She figured it must have been a part of the cult that raised him. Eileen had always been fascinated by ancient symbols and cryptic glyphs. She wanted to ask more about them, but decided to ask another day.