The Toilet of Despair

I can still see it now, it was a beautiful Sunday in June, we were having a family reunion up at my uncle's cabin. The rain had just cleared making the roads and walkways muddy, and the grass squishy. We didn't mind much because we were dressed to go out on the lake, and play volleyball and soccer. The cabin was beautiful, with a wood burning stove, and overstuffed couches and chairs. I downed a soda, not thinking to look where the bathroom was until my bladder was nearly bursting from the carbonated beverage. I looked all around the cabin, there were no bathrooms, only a small room containing a sink. That's when I realized that the bathroom was outside. It was an outhouse, it's just what I imagined it would look like, you know, just like in the movies, with a little moon shaped piece cut out of the door. I got up my courage and I threw open the door, the stench that hit me was almost unbearable. My uncle saw my face, and made a crack about how it hadn't been cleaned out after his hunting buddies were over. The image that popped into my head was not pleasant. I saw an overweight redneck man sitting on that toilet, grunting to get out of his body whatever was creating that ghastly stench. 

I closed my eyes, and took one more deep breath of fresh air before entering the bathroom. The door closed behind me, and the outhouse was dark, except for a little light that was coming in from the window... that was right next to the toilet. I threw my hands up, and shouted "seriously" forgetting to hold my breath, and breathing in a massive cloud of the stench. I ran gagging out of the bathroom. I called for my sister and asked her to guard the window for me, so no one could invade my privacy. She complied. 

I made my way back into the outhouse, locking the door behind me. I did my business. I looked around for a sink, but only found hand sanitizer. I was devastated, I felt like I needed to shower this stench off of me. As I try to leave the bathroom, I can't find the lock, thus I am trapped inside the outhouse of despair, and I realize that I cannot possibly hold my breath any longer, and I am forced to breath in the stench once again. I am afraid I will get cancer from the stench. Finally I fight my way out of the outhouse, and I run as far away from it as I can get. I collapse in a chair woozy from the experience. From now on I'm sticking to indoor plumbing.