Chapter 4Her Ghost Showers At Midnight

Satisfied with my trap, I went back to my room, locking my own door behind me.

Even back in bed, sleep felt impossible.

I don't know what time it was when I finally started drifting into that liminal space between wakefulness and sleep, but I was suddenly jolted awake by a sharp noise from the living room.

Thud. Clatter.

It was the unmistakable sound of a heavy glass tipping over and rolling across the floor.

A massive wave of relief washed over me. The tension left my muscles in a rush.

A prank. It had to be Hannah, or someone she brought over, messing with me.

With the adrenaline gone, a bone-deep exhaustion took over. I figured I would give her a piece of my mind in the morning, tell her that scaring the hell out of her roommate wasn't funny.

I closed my eyes and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

My alarm went off the next morning like a siren. Between the hangover and the emotional rollercoaster, my head felt like it was splitting open.

But I was a single guy trying to build a savings account, desperately working toward a future where I could actually afford a ring and a family one day. Calling in sick wasn't an option. I forced myself upright.

Before I even brushed my teeth, I marched out to the hallway, ready to confront her.

I froze.

The glass of water was sitting perfectly undisturbed, right where I had left it. It hadn't been moved a single inch.

A spike of genuine anger pierced through the confusion. A joke was a joke, but this was psychological torture.

I banged on her door, hard.

"Hannah, open up. We need to talk. You’ve been scaring the absolute hell out of me for days. Can we drop the act now?"

Nothing.

"Hannah, I know you're in there! Stop playing games and come out."

I stood there for ten minutes, knocking and calling her name. The room behind the door remained utterly, completely dead.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. How could a brilliant, seemingly normal college kid be this twisted?

I had to leave for work, so I decided to drop it until tonight. I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I leaned over the sink, I noticed a ring of dried water droplets on the porcelain edge. It was from when I had splashed my face with cold water the night before.

At first, it didn't register.

Then, a cold realization slammed into me.

I took a slow step backward out of the bathroom, my eyes locking onto the glass of water in front of Hannah's door.

I heard that water spill last night. I heard the glass roll. So why was the floor bone dry?

Furthermore, I hadn't heard the sound of someone mopping it up or refilling the glass from the cooler.

Most importantly: her door opened outward. If she had opened the door, knocked the glass over, and then refilled it... there was physically no way she could have placed the full glass back in that exact spot, flush against the wood, and closed the door behind her without knocking it over again.

It was impossible.

A fresh layer of cold sweat erupted across my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I jumped, nearly biting my own tongue. Hand trembling, I pulled it out.

It was an iMessage from Hannah, finally replying to what I’d sent her the night before.

“I didn't come back. I told you, I’m too busy to come home right now.”