Washroom Attendent

I lifted my face from the sink and looked into the mirror. Behind me, while I knew I was alone in the bathroom, something moved. I dried my face then looked around me. There was nothing.

I walked quickly toward the door, remembering the legends of the famed Mary Three and refused to look back. Then, before I stepped out into the safety of the hallway, in the last stall, a light flashed. It paralyzed me for a second. Then the door to the stall slammed shut. I didn't care who or what it was, but ran for the safety of my room next door.

My roommate had just climbed into bed. "You would not believe what just happened," I told him.

"What?" he asked. So I told him the story. Then, barely done with my story, he shooshed me. I listened with him and heard it.

The bathroom was located right next to our room, and the old wooden door would creak as if it were in pain every time it was opened. This we could hear clearly from our room. But there was no creak. Just the sound of rushing water coming from an empty bathroom. Then, just as mysteriously as it started, it stopped. The silence was almost deafening.

In a second, we found our stupid eighteen year-old selves in the bathroom, searching for any sign of life (or death.) But, after a thorough search we found nothing. Only the persistant sound of water dripping into a wet sink echoed off the old, green tiled walls.

We gave up our search and returned to our rooms. While he was asleep in almost an instant, I laid awake staring up into the ceiling. Waiting for the inevitable.

That didn't take long.

I heard it, just to my right. On the other side of that old cinder block wall was the sink. And with no one entering the bathroom, it turned on. It slowly turned itself up to full blast. Then, in an instant, it was over. A few seconds later, I heard the loud creaking of the door slowly opening then swinging shut. Following that were those same footsteps that ran up and down the hallway that had become a trademark of life on Mary Three.