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Nyree
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#27
Old 02-22-2008, 02:36 AM

Another Creative Writing assignment. I can't help it, the teacher gave some good lessons! And these were all really fun to write. This one was supposed to be like Alfred Hitchcocks Psycho (hence the entire shower/bathroom setting) but I don't deal with non-fantasy stories so I made it horror fantasy!

~*~

The sound of water hitting tile echoed in the huge bathroom, deafening me to everything but my own thoughts. Moving with a briskness that betrayed my discomfort at being in a strange shower when no one else was home, I scrubbed shampoo into my scalp and rinsed it out. The sooner I was clean, the sooner I could go back to my book.
It wasn’t my shower, it wasn’t my bathroom, it wasn’t my house… I was jumping at the little creaks and groans that any old house has. I told myself over and over that I was being stupid, paranoid, jumpy, but no matter how many times I scolded myself (silently and in the confines of my own thoughts) I couldn’t help my own nerves.
From outside the bathroom door, closed despite the fact that no one else was in the house or was even expected in at least three days, there came a funny noise; a little like long, sharp nails being dragged slowly over wood.
I froze, my hand hovering over the bottle of hair-conditioner and stared through the opaque shower stall door that made the rest of the bathroom fuzzy and unreal. I waited, barely breathing and started to allow myself to think that it had been a branch scraping along the side of the house or some other, normal thing.
A low, soft clicking noise started then. It was quiet but made the hairs on the backs of my neck and arms stand on end, as if I was standing close to something electrical. I spun around, the soap and water beneath my feet easing the movement and snapped the water off.
Suddenly the bathroom was silent except for my soft breathing, sounding a little scratchy to me. I opened the door and grabbed the towel that was neatly folded on the shelf, wrapping it around me and shoving wet hanks of hair behind my ears distractedly.
As quietly as I could, I slid the glass-and-metal door over its tracks and stepped onto the soft rug that covered the chilly tiles. That horrible, odd clicking noise came again and this time, was accompanied by the sounds like nails over wood.
Three thousands images of serial killers, movie monsters and Hollywood horrors jumped into my mind and I felt panic rise to the back of my throat, hot and acidic as if I was getting ready to puke.
It’s nothing, I told myself firmly, I’ll open the door and there won’t be a thing out there… and won’t I feel foolish then?
Even so, I grabbed the plunger from beside the toilet; not much of a weapon but maybe it would be enough.
As I was about to step forward a saw a slight flicker of shadows dance beneath the floor and into the bathroom, as if something had been standing there but had quickly moved away.
My knees felt shaky and my skin felt cold despite the steam that filled the bathroom.
But it was okay, because nothing was out there and I was just jumping at shadows.
Shadows that moved across bathroom floors like something had known I was coming.