tissue paper x evile tissue paper dispenser part 1 (writing practice ig)

note:

I forgor that toilet paper and tissue paper were two diff things lmao. This story also occurs in a unisex toilet bc why not(I'm too lazy)

KK STARTING NOW

Ms. Tissue Paper liked being at the gas station. 

She got to see the variety of human kind come into the washrooms and do whatever they needed to do.

 She liked seeing people adjust their hair and give finishing touches to their makeup standing in front of the toilet mirror before going to their third round of partying, she so earnestly wanted to comfort those who urgently stormed into one of the 5 stalls present in the washroom to quietly have a mental breakdown after an upsetting moment in their lives, and she very much wanted to give advice on what foods to avoid to people groaning in the stalls after having eaten Taco Bell the previous night.

 But there she was in her regular place, beside the mirror, unable to do anything or solve problems of anyone that came in.

 It was expected considering that she was a tissue roll wrapped around a rod for people to use when they had finished washing their hands.

 Oh....how she wanted to help the poor teenage girl who had wept profusely after she found out that she was pregnant with a baby. That girl was whisked out of the gas station and never seen again. Ms. Tissue hoped that she was leading a good life now. She really wanted to be of some help to a young boy who had purple bruises on his face and long slash marks on his wrist. His eyes looked so devoid of joy and happiness and she really wanted to provide him company and help him find life beautiful again. However after he swung open the toilet door and went out, she never saw him ever again. She hoped that he was doing fine now, wherever that boy may be.

 This was her day, every single day was the same for her. There would mostly be a maximum of 5 people in the gas station washroom and only some would use the stalls, wither to breakdown quietly or to do their buisness She never left the iron rod she was wrapped around, and not many people used tissue paper to clean their hand as it was so inconveniant. She felt rather useless, wrapped around a rod. Unable to comfort, unable to help and unable to do more than provide a tissue for people to clean their hands with.

But one day...she got a new roommate in the washroom.

A sleek new....tissue paper dispenser?

It was black in color, platic, having a shiny body and a symbol of the company on top of the opening where the tissue was supposed to come out. They placed it right next to Ms.Tissue.

She felt elated. Finally...someone to converse with, someone to share life's sorrows and joys with.

A friend.