Much like the hallway, the bathroom was empty by the time I got there. The mirrors were still fogged up so it hadn't been long since it was vacated. Hopefully there would still be hot water.
Setting my bag on a low bench, I made my way to one of the many large mirrors. I could just make out my outline through the steamed moisture. I wiped it clear with one of the small washrags setting on the back of the sink.
I threw the washcloth in the hamper and glanced back in the mirror. Instead of my own face staring back at me, there was a woman with bruises all along her neck.
The woman gnashed her teeth at me and put her arms straight through the mirror. I jumped backwards, pressing my hands tight against my mouth to stop from screaming out loud.
The woman snapped again. Bag forgotten, I yanked the door open and bolted back down the hallway.
This wasn't the first time, I reminded myself. Not the first and not the last.
Sighing deeply, I glanced at the clock my father had helped me set. 12:06. Maybe it was better to forget the shower and try to get some sleep.
I pulled my watch off my wrist and put it on the stand next to the clock. Just as I was about to flip off the light, I saw a piece of paper sticking out from under the clock.
Confused, I pulled the paper free of its weight. It looked like it was torn from a magazine. Flipping the paper over, I found five letters that made my heart race.
The End
About The Author
Amy Richie has lived in a small town her entire life. She lives with her three kids and their pet rat Jasper. She began writing in high school but never took it seriously until a few years ago. She enjoys writing because it takes her out of her everyday life and gives life to the people in her head. Amy says: “When I was little I wanted to be a mermaid, then when I was in high school I wanted to be a vampire; now as an adult I’m a writer, which is better because now I get to be both.”
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