I don't shower with my door ajar anymore by JLGoodwin1990

even with the water on warm instead of hot. And since my crappy as hell landlord refused to fix the ceiling mounted fan which would have ventilated the room, along with the fact that it caused the ancient off white paint to sweat and start developing mold patches, something which he would have charged me to clean, I made the decision to leave the door open a bit to allow the steam to escape. For almost a decade, nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I went about my daily life.

The habit became a routine. It was until two months or so ago. See I was alone that day. My roommate had gone out for the day to take part in some bowling tournament, and I had the run of the place for the next four day to six hours. As it was my day off from work, I decided to start it off with a hot, long, relaxing shower, so I grabbed a fresh set of towels from the small closet next to my bedroom. Stepped inside, and after turning on the water to let it warm up, I

hopped in. I just lathered the soap up in my hair when I heard a noise come from just outside. It was almost masked by the sound of the water splashing down on the floor of the tub, but it was out of place enough that I caught it. S great. It was similar to the sound that you'd hear if you dragged long fingernails down the wall. I froze, the shampoo dripping down over my face, making it difficult to see anything. The sound came again. For a moment, the

thought of someone breaking in flashed through my mind. I mean, after all, the neighborhood I live in has the nickname of Methpire for a reason. But if someone had broken a window or forced the lock, I would have heard it. The place isn't exactly big enough to miss those sounds. I finally opened my mouth, Tyler. Instantly, the sound, which had begun to repeat a third time, ceased. The entire place had gone silent, save for the water. I felt

a small amount of annoyance zapp through me. Tyler, this better not be another one of your games, I thought, as I hurriedly washed the shampoo out of my hair. My roommate had a habit of being a horror junkie into lighting and attempting to play pranks on me. Knowing that I had a tendency to be a little jumpy. Without shutting off the water, I reached out, grabbed the towel off the rack, and stepped out out, wrapping it

around my waist. Tyler, I swear to God, if this is another attempt to scare me, I'm gonna kick your ass, I called, striding across the toiled floor and yanking the door all the way open. I looked around. There was nobody in the living room or the kitchen, which opened off of it. I glanced around, and then, just to ease my mind, I walked first to my bedroom then to Tyler's looking in. Both were empty and there wasn't exactly any place for someone to quickly hide in either. Hmm, okay,

must have been hearing things. Shrugging my shoulders, I turned and jumped back into the shower to finish up. And that evening, when Tyler came back home from celebrating a win with his bowling team, apparently having blitched the competition, I decided to question him. We sat in the kitchen table eating Chinese takeout. Hey ty, I asked, casually, glancing up from my chopsticks. Yeah, he mumbled through a mouthful of his food, causing me to roll my eyes at

his lack of manners. You didn't happen to come home earlier today, did you? He looked up at me, a slightly perplexed expression on his face. No, man, I was at the alley until three. You're not drinking when the boys till five? Why? I searched his face. The guy had a tendency to chew a little too much when he was bullshitting. It was a tell that I had learned a spot of his thanks to endless nights of playing poker. No reason. Just thought i'd heard something while

I was in the shower this morning. I looked at him, smirking slightly. I thought you might have, you know, come back to grab something you needed, and decided to try and pull one over on me again. He led out a huge burp in response, then reached forward and grabbed his bottle of coke, tilting it back and taking a swig. Hmm, No man, he said, simply using the back of his sleeve to wipe his lips. Besides, if I'd come back and try to scare you, you hadn't known it, he

led out a laugh, attempting to imitate Vincent Price. After a moment of studying him, I shared it he was clearly telling the truth. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I guess you're right, bro, I said, dropping my chopsticks into the empty container and hawking it over my shoulder into the trash can. He leaned back and, using his own empty container, feigned being a basketball player and acted like he was making a free throw. The container bounced off the edge, making us

both laugh. I pushed what had to be a trick of my mind out of my head, and the two of us spent the rest of the night playing video games downing beers. The next week went by without any strange noises, and I almost completely forgot about the strange incident. Ty had gone out for the evening on a date, and after binge watching all three Creature from the Black Lagoon movies, I flicked the television off and headed for the shower. Hopping in, I softly hummed the Jane Mansfield

song Too Hot to Handle. And lauthered myself up with soap. I just got the shampoo in my hair when I heard the scraping sound again. This time was a bit louder, and I knew it hadn't been my imagination either. I became still as a statue, my head under the water and blurred between it and the shampoo, slowly being wrenched out of its own accord. I held my breath listening. The sound came again. This time, instead of on the wall, the scrape clearly came from the doorframe to the bathroom.

I felt my heart thudding hard in my chest, and my eyes widened as I saw a shadow filter through the shower curtain. It was the shadow of the bathroom door slowly opening. If I'm my voice, Who's out there? I called, attempting to sound as tough and authoritative as I could, Just like last time. The moment I spoke up, all the movement and sound ceased, the apartment going silent. This time, however, the air felt charged, as if the tension in it were palpable enough to be cut with

a knife. I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the curtain. As I grabbed the closest thing I could find as a weapon bottle of shampoo. It was pathetic and likely wouldn't FaZe any intruder, but still better than nothing. Taking a deep breath, I wrenched the curtain back, the sound of the hook scraping on the metal pole almost sounding like a scream in the quiet. Just like last time, there was no sign of a soul.

The only thing that had given away anything had changed was that the bathroom door was indeed standing fully open. The darkened outline of the living room beyond made me feel uneasy. I couldn't place why, but it almost felt as if the gloom held a threatening atmosphere. Shutting off the water, I hopped out and wrapped the towel around my waist. Stepping to the doorway, I reached out into the darkness and felt around intil my fingers found the

light switch. Instantly, the dark was banished away by the bright light overhead. I could see that nobody was in sight in the living room this time, however, I wasn't taking any chances. Water still dropping off of me, I strode across the living room to where I dropped the belt I wore when on the job as a plumber. I reached down and pulled a rather large pipe wrench from it, gripping it with a wet and admittedly slightly

shaky hand. The kitchen was clearly devoid of life, and I focused my vision on the two bedrooms, which lay dark. My door was wide open, but ties was half closed. I glanced at the hook on the wall, noticing his car keys weren't hanging next to mine. He's not home,

which means shit. I felt my muscles tense up. I seriously didn't want to deal with some homeless junkie who'd somehow gotten himself inside and was searching for something to steal, or worse, waiting to attack me in some drug fueled rage. I forced myself to speak loudly and in as tough of a voice as I could. Hey, I'm warning you if anyone's in here, I am armed. I didn't add the fact that it was a wrench and not a gun. If you come out and just leave, this will go

a lot easier silence. The only sound I could hear was a car passing outside. I called again, Look, I'm I'm in no mood for this, so come out, get the hell out of this place. Still nothing, but I felt an odd sensation, one which caused the hairs on my arms stand up straight. It was a feeling of being watched. My eyes caught a flicker of movement. A shadow seemed to draw back away from my roommate's door.

I knew, right there and then I should have called the cops, but some dumb sense of bravado had come over me, and I wanted to be like those tough guys and older movies taking care of things themselves. Okay,

this is your final warning, I called. After about twenty seconds of more silence, I drew in a deep breath, raised the wrench as high over my head as I could, and letting out a bellowed yell that was more Tarzan than Clint Eastwood, charged the bedroom door as if I was simultaneously a football linebacker and an Olympic torch carrier. I burst into the room, the door smashing into the wall behind it with a sickening crunch of plaster breaking. I shot my free arm out and wrenched the light

switch up. The room was empty, ties scattered clothes, records, and game cases they strown about the floor like always. I looked around the closet each of us had a small walking closet in the far wall. Taking another deep breath, and still holding the wrench above my head like a caveman's club, I strode to the sliding door and grabbed the handle, yanking it open with a scream of protests from its track, the forced aside the clothes hanging on

the rack. Nothing. As I stared at the back wall, the feeling of being stared at came again, this time from almost directly behind me. I swear I could actually feel someone something breathing down my neck. Moving on pure instinct, I pivoted around and swung the wrench with all the strength I had that nothing There was nobody behind me. The actual hell is going on here? As I stood there, feeling as though something had been behind me and had

simply dematerialized out of existence. When I turned and swung, I heard the sound of a key in the front door, and then the laughs of Tie and what had to be his date as they stepped inside. I'm telling you you degrade at darts, Babe, Ty, exclaimed. Both of them stopped and stared at me as they reached his bedroom door. I know I must have looked weird standing in his room, wearing only a towel and holding a wrench. After a moment of silence, he spoke, Jimmy boy, what the hell

are you doing. I blinked a few times, trying to find my voice. Finally I spoke, I swear heard someone here, man, I said, my voice trailing off slightly. I saw the two of them exchange nervous looks. What do you mean, dude, he asked, his eyes looking around. I mean I heard the exact same sound as the last time, only this time the bathroom door swung open. I came out. I thought I heard someone moving around in your room. I came in here, I replied, feeling confused and embarrassed. I

could tell he believed that I'd heard something. To ease my worries, he had his date sit in the room, and together we swept the place, looking in every closet under both beds, But you found no trace of anyone. I shook my head as he prepared to go into his room. I don't get it, I muttered. He patted me on the shoulder. Anythink the bathroom door must just be a bit loose on shinges, Yeah, he said, trying to reassure me, I'll check it out in the morning. Yeah,

go dry yourself off, you know, get them sleep. He punched me, lightening the arm. Hey, no more scary movies date at night for you. Okay, start to hear things go bumping the night for real. He let her a laugh, one which I mirrored, but I didn't feel. The feeling of eyes on me had vanished, but the apartment still held an uneasy atmosphere. It remained. As I dried off, dressed into a pair of pajama bottoms, and climbed into bed.

I could hear Tie in the next room doing exactly what I figured he'd be doing with his date, and I rolled my eyes, hearing that shit gets old after a while. Still, I reached out, grabbed the remote flicked on the small TV on my bureau to block out the noise. It took a very long time to drift

off to sleep that night. When I did, my dreams in nightmares actually were of a dark, shadowy figure creeping slowly towards my bathroom door, the sounds of the shower spilling out for me as it reached out to push open the door. I snapped awake, sitting straight up in bed with a sheen of sweat covering my body. For the next two weeks, I tried as much as possible not to stay alone in that place. I only showered when I could hear my roommate moving around in his

room or out in the living room. Whenever I knew Tie was going out for any reason, I'd either find an excuse to join them or just go out and do something in town. The sense of being watched hadn't returned after that night, but I wasn't taking any chances. Something about the place just felt like it had. It had changed, something almost inperceptible, which I couldn't nail down, but it seemed to do the trick as nothing weird or creepy happened. And then one day, as I was

sitting in a cafe sipping coffee, my phone rang. I pulled that out of my pocket and saw it was my boss calling great and my day off, I thought, exasperated, and then I hit the button to answer it. Yeah. Instantly I heard the gruff voice of Rick, my boss, on the other end, yelling to someone else, No, no, no, Steven, how many times do you have to tell you? Counterclockwise? His voice got louder, indicating he must have lifted the phone back to his ear. James, you there, and yeah,

I replied simply. He led it aside. Look, I know it's your day off, but we're over here at the Bannerman property and two of the pipes burst. He let it along groan of frustration. One of them is real bad. I'm able to get one of them fixed, but our new employer, he his voice took an undisguised tone of disgust, decided to make it worse by fucking the pipe up, he finished, betting a moment of silence spread out before speaking again. So I apologize, but I need you to

come in. You'll get paid overtime. Of course, I nodded, more to myself than anything, and let out aside of my own yeah, okay, I'll be in somebody swing by my place, pick up my tools. Yeah, don't forget to quickly hit the shower before coming over. He quickly added, you know, old Bannerman gets pissy, buddy. You will not being freshly clean coming in here. He snorted. I'll never understand General Philips. Anyway, I'll expect you to be here in thirty minutes. And with that He hung up before

I could say anything, not that I could anyways. At the mention of a shower, I felt my body tense up. I knew Tye was out. His bowling team was currently hosting a tournament the next time over. She would mean that I'd have to shower in the empty apartment, and that's something I really did not want to do. That I didn't have a choice if I just grabbed my tools and slipped into my jumpsuit. I get chewed out first by old man Bannerman and then Rick for not

following orders. Sat down by both of them after being contracted to repair and replace the pipes of this huge, sprawling mansion. Sighing, I paid for my coffee and I drove back to the apartment. When I opened the door, I had a momentary flash of panic. I thought the atmosphere I had sensed before would return as soon as I stepped inside. But the apartment felt normal, cloudy light filtering in through the half open kitchen and living room blinds.

I looked around and shook my head. Stop being such a baby, Jimmy. There's nothing in here, nothing except you. It'd be fine. It's take a shower and book it. Feeling determined, I strode across to my room, bothering my undershirt and jumpsuit for peace of mind. I also grabbed the same wrench that I held that night from the belt hanging over the arm of the couch, and I carried it into the bathroom with me, placing it on top of the pile of clothes sitting on the toilet.

For a moment, I debated on just closing the bathroom door, but as before shook it away, I left it. Ajar tie should have fixed the hinges by now, anyway. I reached into the shower and turned the water on, waiting for it to warm up. After I saw the steam begin to rise from over the curtain, I stepped inside, grabbing the bar of soap and quickly beginning to lather

myself up. I rinsed with no problems, then grabbed the shampoo and lathered my hair, and as I dug my fingers into my scalp, the soap began to drip down into my eyes, skewing my vision. That's when I heard the scraping sound again, only this time it was much louder and more pronounced than any time I had heard it before. I felt a chill run up my spine despite the hot water. It came again, just outside the

bathroom door. I took a deep breath. Tyler, I called out, thinking the sound would stop it as it had before this time. However it didn't. Instead, I heard it get louder, something, almost as if it were being done on the bathroom door itself. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw the dark shape of the door swing open, and then the bathroom lights flick off, plunging me in

the darkness. There was still a little light flickering in from the living room, but everything was now shrouded in gloom. What the fuck? My heart was thundering in my chest. As I slowly stepped back. I knew the distance from the edge of the tub to where my wrench lay on the toilet lid was less than two feet. I could reach out and snatch it. In a heartbeat. The scraping came again, the sound causing my ears to begin

ringing softly. It came from inside the bathroom, somewhere near the door, and then it and it stopped entirely aside from the sound of the water running, the apartment fell silent. Not a deadly silent, not a tension felled silence, just silent. I stared for the longest time. It had to be only about fifteen seconds, but it felt like two hours. At the dim outline of the open door, I saw nothing. I turned to pull the curtain next to me back.

I felt my heart stop. The dark outline of a figure stood almost directly on the other side of the curtain, less than a foot from me. If it had been any closer, it would have pressed into the curtain itself. It stood completely motionless, though I could tell it was looking in my direction from the feeling washing over me in waves sad thing, a tsunami of fear through me. I couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman.

If the old pick curtain masked its features. My breath came out in a ragged gasp, and I involuntarily let out a whisper of oh fuck. And that's when it lunged at me. It let out a loud scream as the curtain pressed in against its weight, wrapping around it and subsequently me. As I saw arms reaching out to grab me. The momentum of it smashing into me caused me to slip on the shower floor and I went

flying backwards. I had smashed into the faucet, causing me to let out an involuntary cry of pain and stars to flash my vision. As I fell to the floor of the tub. It was still there. I could feel it on top of me, pinning me down, but it never let out a single noise. Something sharp jabbed into my leg, and I let out a howl at the explosion of pain that came from my thigh. Another pierced my shoulder and I kicked out of the figure that was inches from my face. I felt it connect with something,

but it seemed to have no effect. Another stab of pain came from my shoulder at whatever it was using a weapon or claws, jammed into the wound that it had already made. I kept screaming, praying one of my neighbors might hear the commotion. As I thrashed around, trying to wedge myself into a position where I could reach out. I heard furious knocking coming from the front door, but

the noise sounded like it was a mile away. Help me, I screamed as loudly as I could, still futally lashing out just as I began to feel woozy from the blood loss, I felt my hand brushed the edge of the toilet's seat and with it the cold metal handle of my wrench. I mean it. I swung out with all of my remaining strength, aiming for the head of

my attacker and feeling it connect with something. It seemed to stumble a bit at the blow, and I used that precious second to wrench myself out from underneath it, tumbling over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. I heard it thrashing about with a shower curtain, furiously tearing at it in an attempted to get to me, but I was stumbling to my feet, noting as I

did the amount of blood falling to the floor. I struggled to the front door as I heard it finally break free, crashing into the bathroom floor, but still remaining silent. I unlocked the door and tore it open, revealing the concerned faces of my next door neighbor. But he saw my condition his face paled. Before I had a chance to say anything, I yelled, adrenaline, kicking the pain and blood loss from dropping me being attacked. It's in there,

pointing back towards the bathroom. Grabbing me, he pulled me into his open apartment door, slamming it closed and locking it. He quickly brought me a bathrobe and bandages, attempting to stop the bleeding as he called the police. As he did, I could hear the sounds of a tearing through the apartment doing God only knows. The commotion continued until I heard the wail of sirens coming down the road, at which point, at which point I heard my apartment fall silent.

A few moments later, I heard the thundering of footsteps pounding up the stairs to the second floor, followed by the yell of officers. After a few moments, my neighbor and I heard the knocking at his door police. I was helped to an ambulance, where I was taken to the hospital. In addition to splitting open my scalp on the faucet, I'd been cut up pretty bad, though by what the doctors couldn't tell me. They couldn't even tell themselves. It's the damnedest thing one told me after I'd woken up

after the surgery. If it hadn't been for the fact that you'd seen a person, I would have said you were attacked by an animal looked like puncture wounds and claws. The police never found a trace of what had attacked me. I already knew they wouldn't. It wasn't a man who attacked me, hadn't even been human. The case is still open to this day, though I've long since stopped getting updates from the detectives in charge of the case. Tyler and I moved out of the apartment as soon as

I left the hospital. He chose to stay at his new girlfriend's house while I recovered. He was under the belief that I was attacked by an intruder, as is everyone else. I pairt that line whenever anyone asks about it. It's just it's easier that way, you know. I'm trying to explain what I know won't be believed. That's why I'm posting this here. I just I feel like there's a need to tell someone what actually happened that day. It's a place I know it'll be believed, or at

least I at least don't be called nuts. I figure simply appeared on the other side of the curtain. I I never saw it cross the room, and I know even in the dark, I would have, and even then, nothing human could possibly have been that silent. I also know that someone else moved into that apartment since, though I don't know who they are, prayer they won't ever

receive a visit from whatever that thing was. Tyler and I are now renting a nice, relatively cheap, two bedroom house a few miles away from that place, and I've never felt the sensation of being watched again. I've thankfully never heard the scraping sound return, at least not in my waking hours. I mean, I still hear them in my dreams, though I still see that shape standing just on the other side of the curtain in the dark. It'll likely stay there until the day I'm on my deathbed.

I always, I always feel tense now when I step into the bathroom to watch myself. Thankfully, I always felt safe. I don't shower what the door j are No, not anymore. I make sure it's firmly closed and locked before I undress, and I hop in. Like I said, I've always felt safe in my new place. But I'm not taking any chances because I don't know if it's trapped in that apartment, or if.

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