Jon felt the dirt under his fingernails and on his hands, even though he couldn't see it. The scalding hot water couldn't get it off of his skin. The antibacterial soap couldn't get it off of his skin. The sponge couldn't get it off of his skin.

He turned the water on again and scrubbed his hands together underneath the faucet. The tips of his fingers were pruning, and they looked like sun-dried raisins. He shook the excess water from his hands and dried them on a towel. He plucked a moist wipe from the container next to the sink and used it to turn the faucet off. He flicked the wipe from his fingers and watched as it dropped into the stainless steel wastebasket next to the toilet.

The toilet.

A festering hole of germs he had to tolerate in his home. His skin crawled and he could see the bacteria, the microbes, the filth, crawling in the toilet. He leaned down and pulled bleach from beneath the sink. He unscrewed the cap and poured pure bleach into the toilet. The smell stung his nostrils and he screwed the cap back on.

A small drop touched his hand.

His heart quicked.

Bleach was poison.

He turned on the filthy water faucet and shoved his hands beneath the water. He held them there until the water grew to a scalding temperature and started to steam. He scrubbed his hands under the water and only reached from beneath it to grab his sponge and antibacterial soap. He scraped his hands together and against the sponge, beneath the scalding water. The skin of his hands ached and glowed a bright red color from the exposure to scalding water.

Jon flung the excess water from his hands and dried them on his towel. A lump rose in his throat. He hadn't changed his towel before using it again.

He shoved his hands under the scalding hot water again and scrubbed them together. He reached out from beneath the faucet to grab his sponge and antibacterial soap. He could still feel the filthy germs crawling all over his skin.

The antibacterial soap didn't clean his skin. The sponge held more bacteria than he liked to consider. The scalding hot water couldn't clean his skin.

He sucked a deep breath into his lungs and pulled his hands out of the scalding water. His heart pounded. He left the faucet running in hopes of allowing the water to get even hotter as he left the bathroom and walked into the kitchen.

He opened the kitchen cabinet and searched beneath the kitchen sink for something.

There.

A steel wool cleaning pad.

If nothing could clean his skin, he would scrub it off.