Mark of the Coal Black Hands

I stood by the sink and stared at my hands. Black...coal black. Then I took a gander at the empty soap dispenser. It had been half-full upon my arrival. Now it was entirely gone and my hands were still black...coal black. I turned the water off. It was a useless task: that of trying to wash my hands. The blackness will never come off. I slumped to the floor crying. The first tear hit the ground at the same time that I did.
Why? Why did I have to do that? Why? Why were my hands still black? Why? Why wouldn't it just wash away? Why? Why won't the memories wash away as well? Why?
I lie on the ground next to the sink, hiding my hands in my pockets. I couldn't stand the sight of them.
Why? Why did I have to dabble in this and that? Why? Why was I ignorant, not knowing that my dabbling would turn my hands black...coal black? Why? Why didn't I know then that by my dabbling, my black hands would mark me for the rest of my life? Why?
The clock struck five. It was time for me to leave. I can't go out in public like this. What will people think? I can't show my hands, black and gritty and dirty from the world. My hands will certainly reveal where I have been. No one can know.For about half an hour, I wrestled within myself. Should I leave? I can't leave...my hands. My dirty, coal black hands. But I have to leave. I made a promise. I have to be there. But I can't. My hands. My dirty, worldly, coal black hands. I stood up and walked directly to my room. My hands will still residing in my pockets. I closed my weary eyes and took my black hands out. My hands groped in this darkness. I found the gloves and put them on. It was the perfect solution. Now no one can see that my hands are marked from the coal black dirtiness of the world.
I opened my eyes.It was completely dark in the room now. Night had fallen and I had fallen too, apparently. I was lying on the floor of my bedroom, my gloves still hiding my hands. I sat up and tried to recall what had happened. I looked around my room for a sign. And I found it. Lots of it.Everything that I had touched while I was trying to find my gloves was black...coal black. Everything.
I took the gloves off and brought my hand to touch my face. With just the slightest touch from my fingertips, a black mark appeared on my rosy cheek.
Everywhere I touched turned black...coal black. Everything I touched became dirty and soon possessed the mark of my dirty, worldly, coal black hands.Everything.