The silence was deafening.
She regretted stepping out the moment the door closed. She had to go to the bathroom though; she was already out here.
Fuck everything.
And, of course, they were in the classroom furthest away from the bathroom. I mean, I could always use the boy's restroom… it was just down the hall from her compared to across the block from her. But despite the fact that no one was likely to be in there, it still felt gross to step foot in there. I'm really risking my life for comfort, aren't I? Mom would beat my ass—if I ever tell her.
If I ever get to tell her…
She kept herself from groaning and turned away from the door, starting the long walk to the girl's bathroom.
Only to freeze when the thumping of her left foot echoed down the hall. She glanced around frantically, hoping nothing heard her. When nothing came, she looked down at the offending appendage. Fuck, this gonna be a problem.
Easy fix… just don't slip, she thought as she pulled off her shoes—setting them against the wall beside her. Her socks would muffle the damned thumping noise.
Can I try not to kill myself? I just need to use the freaking bathroom!
She started down the hall again, feet silently padding the ground as she went—to her relief.
But despite fixing her minor slip-up, her paranoia only continued to grow—her feet getting faster and faster, up until when she turned into the next hallway—she was full-on sprinting to the bathroom at the end of the hall. She did not want to be out in the open any longer than she had to be.
She skidded to a halt in front of the bathroom entrance, nearly tripping over herself as her feet fought for purchase.
The entryway yawned out in front of her—a dark abyss where no light even tried to reach into it.
Well this is unnerving, she thought as she stared into the access. Does the light monster not come in here…? Or are there just none in there?
At least I have my phone with me…
She reached into her back pocket, only to find smooth fabric. What the fuck? Where the hell's my phone?
And then she remembered setting it on the desk after dropping it on the floor, and never picking it up again—it was still sitting on the charger. Urgh, that Chromebook's gonna be dead by the time I get back!
She stared into the bathroom with growing dread; she couldn't go back defeated—and she'd be going blind if she went in. Not to mention, she didn't know if she'd be alone in there…
Her bladder was becoming more and more insistent.
Her face dropped into her hands, and she resigned herself to feeling around in the dark and hoping for the best.
I should've just pissed in the sink.
She glanced to her left, and then behind her—nothing but empty hallways. Hopefully it stays that way while I figure out where the toilet is.
She slowly stepped inside, arms stretched out to the sides of her—fingers brushing against the walls of the entry way.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
A couple of tentative steps later, and her foot bumped into something hard. She nudged it with her toes a few times—it didn't budge. She reached out –her arms didn't have to go far– and carefully felt along the smooth surface—quickly realizing she'd run into one of the stalls.
Now to find the door. She ran a hand across the surface, hoping to find where it dropped away. When it did, she moved around to the front of the stall and ran her fingers along the crack of the door—fingers splayed to catch on the door handle.
By the time her hand found the bottom edge of the door, she realized it was on the other side. She stood up straight and slid her hand across the door's front until she found the gap on the other side, and repeated the process.
It didn't take long for her fingers to graze the handle.
She pulled on it, opening the door so she could shuffle around it and pull it closed again—gently, so it didn't bang against the latch. With how echoey the bathroom was, a monster was bound to hear her if she wasn't careful.
She felt around for the little latch, and slowly pushed it closed when she found it—putting a bit of pressure on it just to make sure it was actually shut.
It would've been awful to find out it was actually open the whole time, left exposed for the bathroom to see. Nevermind that it was pitch black, she had no idea what could come wandering in—and what would have night-vision.
She shivered at the thought, and tried to step back, only for the back of her leg to hit the toilet bowl. Well at least this part's easy.
She shimmied her pants down—letting it hang around her knees, and tentatively sat down. Nearly sighing in relief when she didn't fall in—it would've been awful trying to fight for her life to get out of it at a time like this.
Alleviating her bladder never felt better though.
Ting.
It was a quiet noise, almost covered up by the sound of her waste hitting the toilet bowl. But it was there nonetheless.
Ting.
She tensed, realizing it wasn't coming from her—her pee-stream trickled to a stop.
Ting.
Yeah, no—that's definitely real. Where was it coming from?
Ting.
It was methodical, reminding her of Chinese water torture—something tapping lightly against metal.
Ting.
She couldn't pinpoint the direction—it seemed to reverberate all around her, worming into her brain and getting louder with each repetition. She felt she was losing her grip on her sanity as it continued.
Ting.
Her ears seemed to ring as the seconds ticked by, the rhythmic ting! accompanying every few—warping her thoughts with it.
Is it real? Where is it coming from? The walls? The ceiling?
The door in front of her?
No. That doesn't make sense. The stall door isn't metal.
Ting.
I have to get out of here. This shit's messing with my head. She didn't even think as she blindly felt for the toilet paper holder, ripping off a few sheets when she found it.
Ting.
Miraculously, her frazzled brain didn't even try to flush the toilet as she stood up—yanking her pants back up. Her hand stretched out and pressed against the door, causing it to shake the slightest bit.
Ting.
She slid her hand around until it ran into the latch, opening it without thinking to be quiet. She didn't notice her mistake until she stepped out.
It was silent.
The tinging had stopped.
She froze.
Was this how prey felt when they realized a predator was in the area? When the forest was dead quiet—waiting for its next move?
Do I run?
I still can't see; the exit was to my left, wasn't it? The indecision hovered in the forefront of her mind, gluing her feet to the floor.
Could she see any of the lights from the hallway? It was only a couple steps away, of that, she was certain.
She turned her head in the smallest of increments, not wanting to test the deathly silence—straining her eyes to see if she could spot any signs of glowing red.
There was none.
That makes no sense! I didn't run into any walls in here—it was a straight shot! And those lights didn't look anywhere close to going out!
Why isn't there any light?!
Her heart thudded in her chest, so strongly she thought she could hear it in the echoey walls of the bathroom. What do I do?
She could just book-it, couldn't she…?
Her foot shifted, hopefully angling toward where the doorway would be.
Scratch.
The shrill scrape of claws on metal electrified her ears—the sudden sound causing her to jump.
Scratcchhh.
Louder this time—as if something was trying to gouge deep marks into a metal hull, working to get closer to her. It dug into her ears, and she felt like her ears would bleed with how forcefully the sound bounced around her skull.
Scratch scratch scratch.
She ran—clipping the entryway with her shoulder, but the dull throbbing of it faded to the back of her mind as she sprinted out of the bathroom—her heart working itself into a frenzy.
She didn't register the red shine of the lights suddenly appearing again—only focused on getting back to Mrs. Lift's classroom –where Saphris was safely tucked away– as fast as possible.
Her feet pounded in time as she whipped around the corner, and she realized that it was following her.
Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.
She chanced a wild look behind her, but there was nothing—the hall was empty. The screaming of claws on metal hadn't stopped.
Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.
She slid to a halt in front of the Classroom door, almost tripping over herself as her feet tried to keep her upright. Her hands shook as she frantically tore the paper and marker from her pocket. Her eyes darted around her, looking for something—anything. Where was it coming from? Is it about to come down the hall?
Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.
Her writing was barely legible when she finally got the words down: I wish I pissed in the sink.
She wished she could've laughed at it.
She shoved it under the door not even a second later.
Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.
And just like Saphris had promised—the door opened near immediately, and she pushed her way inside and slammed it closed behind her, not giving a damn to the noise it generated and locked it with a vengeance.
"Dude—what the hell?!"
But Dylan didn't care what Saphris had to say—because the scratching had stopped, and left her only with her ragged breathing and friend's squawking to listen to.
And she started to sob.