It's Rhetoric. Seriously.

[chargy]

This is my first fiction piece for Creative Writing.

So you know the background, it's a short piece about someone with an obsession.

Here it comes:

With hesitance the door opened.  Staggering into the room, Greg slowly worked his way through the living room, down the hallway, into his bedroom.  Heaving a sigh, he forced the open door wide.  He sat down on the edge of his bed and mumbled - long day - and looked downward to his sweaty, cracked palms.
    “Oh No.” he gasped, “that’s no good…”
He immediately dragged himself off the bed and trudged to the bathroom down the dimly lit hallway and turned on the faucet.  He opened the cabinet door and, scanning the dozens to choose from, removed a fresh bar of soap.  The water was steaming and without a second’s thought, Greg thrust his hands into the boiling water and went to work.  He rubbed his hands back and forth and back and forth as the scalding water hit the porcelain.
He began to hum a little as he furrowed his brows in concentration to the see the dirt hidden underneath the soapy exterior of his hands.  
    “Still not clean…” He complained.
With increasing vigor Greg repeatedly rubbed the sliver of soap between his hands.  Back and forth and back and forth while the hot water hit the porcelain.  Greg bit his lip as he reached into the cabinet for another bar.  The hiss of the water resounded in the bathroom while steam slowly wafted its way out into the sterile air in the hall.  
Back and forth and back and forth while the red, hot water hit the porcelain.
Back and forth and back and forth while the red water hit the porcelain.

Let me know what you honestly think.  Seriously.