Bathroom Break

BATHROOM BREAK

 

Bathroom break is the worst, and not for the reasons you might be expecting.

There was something in the bathroom, something unexplainable. A malignant force, as I would like to call it, resided in there and its evil spirit was somehow forcing me out of the bathroom before I could even get in. Something about that bathroom right across our classroom screamed demonic to me, and I’m not just talking about the random black shadow that I saw crossing and blocking out the tiny glass window.

It was another boring class hour, the only class I had for this day, which stretched from 10 in the morning til 4 in the afternoon. Since it was already 3 and we had an hour to go before being dismissed, we were granted a short bathroom break to relieve ourselves. Usually bathroom break for others meant going down to the cafeteria to buy food or over at the forbidden area behind the cafeteria to smoke a cigarette or two. When this happens I mostly stay inside but that afternoon I wish I had gone for a smoke with my pals instead of burying myself in that horror novel, then maybe I wouldn’t have seen what my eyes let me witness.

The room was vacant, I being the only person. The professor too had left to fill her jug up with coffee and there I was again by my lonesome accompanied only by my book. I suddenly felt the urge to go to the bathroom after all those water refills so I dog-eared the book and put it down to leave and take a leak.

I stood outside the bathroom whose door was a bright crimson that looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie, warning you that evil things were lurking behind it and its color alone should make that clear. My bladder was about to spill and no amount of horror movie symbolism was going to scare me out of  bathroom trip. I grabbed the knob and turned it, pushed it open to enter when the door suddenly slammed behind me and the sound of the lock pushing in startled me. I whirled around and gripped the knob, one hand first twisting it to no avail, finally getting help from the second hand without any effect. I was locked in by a possibly maniacal restroom dwelling spirit that may or may not want my soul. The need to urinate suddenly vanished, replaced with the need to leave the premises but I found myself frozen that I was unable to.

I heard of stories circulating in our campus about this particular bathroom being haunted, a variety of which including a malevolent red spirit that showed itself in the mirror, or words being written on the mirror in either Latin or swear words promising eternal damnation, sometimes there was a severed body part that showed itself to unsuspecting students in one of the three cubicles, usually at random. I never believed in any of these, neither did I believe in ghosts but it seemed right now that my scepticism was about to take a strange turn into full out belief.

I didn’t dare look into the mirror, the long rectangular frame hanging to my left and see if there was anything hovering behind me. The less I knew, the much better I would feel I supposed so I continued to the cubicle when a chilly wind blew at the back of my neck making me turn around by instinct, accidentally and inevitably looking into the mirror. Though I pretty much expected things to take a scarier turn, I still jumped right out of my skin when I looked into the looking glass and saw that it wasn’t me I was looking right at. It was a veiled woman in black, staring right at me with her piercing dark eyes obscured by a long lace veil. Her mouth was starting to stretch for a grin, revealing jagged, sharp teeth resembling those of an alligators. Instinct was to scream and scream I did and as shrill cries emanated from my lips, I staggered backwards into the shadow of the lady, going right through her and landing inside one of the cubicles. It no longer occurred to me that the bathroom was mucky and slippery, staining my white pencil skirt grey, I just felt lucky that I did not bang my head against the toilet seat, gripping on its grimy surface for leverage as I sat myself down. In fits of panic my sense of awareness would heighten and now I could say it was at its peak. I stood up and turned around, ready to get the hell out of the room when the rumours of the severed head came true, there, there before me was a severed head of a woman that looked eerily like the veiled, transparent lady standing before me. Screaming, I scrambled up to the soles of my wobbly feet, turning like Snow White lost in the woods about and facing the mirror-yes, that part about Latin warnings was just a myth to scare you out of going to the bathroom alone-I saw splatters of blood decorating its surface. Slowly I turned my head to see fully the shape my peripheral vision was suggesting and head on I saw the veiled lady’s body headless, standing, facing my direction with a trail of blood before it.

I did not hold back this time. I was no longer speechless. For the first time in my life, my cry was at its loudest. I turned around and burst right out of the bathroom, stumbling on the floor in front of a crowd of students lining up for their next class, all their frightened eyes boring down on me, watching in horror as I screamed at the top of my lungs til the last gasp of breath escaped from my lips. Embarrassment no longer held a place in me when fear had me in its grasp.

Running fast as I could, I went back to the room without much of an explanation, not even noticing the scared pairs of eyes that were on me as I gathered my things and left without another word. The professor wasn’t having any of my hastiness and apprehended me right before I could turn the knob.

“Where do you think you’re going? You just can’t barge in and leave like that!”

“The bathroom…headless woman…blood…head…” I was shivering in my place with my lips aquiver, everyone giving me baffled stares. I did not yearn to explain to them any longer and just wanted to show the professor what I had seen.

“Please believe me. The bathroom is haunted. See for yourself!” I directed her out the classroom and pointed at the bathroom whose door was now a plain cream hue, the same as the walls surrounding it.

“What?” I muttered out loud. “Tha-that was red earlier. It was, it really was.”

“You’re probably right.” The professor shrugged as she turned to me, adjusting her glasses. “You’re clearly not well enough to stay. You have my permission to go.” It wasn’t the response I was expecting, nor was it the reaction. The rumours about the bathroom were rampant, how could she be so indifferent. My puzzled self walked down the corridor, leaving without a word and looking back at the door from time to time, wondering if all the horrors that had happened to me in the bathroom were just the products of my quirky imagination.

As I got further, near the staircase, I looked back and saw the door bleed red.

And that was my signal to run down the steps and never turn around again.

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