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You toss and turn in your bed. Not wanting to wake up from your ultimate freedom, your dreams. But the feeling is too strong. Your bladder is causing your lower abdomen to grow sore. You gotta go. Now.

Water-faucet-dripping

Waking up slowly, you turn to look at your clock. 3:18 AM. Fuuck. Why couldn't it have been around 6 or something? You have to get up early so you won't miss the bus… again. Your mom got so pissed off at you today, and complained about you not going to bed early, staying up too late playing video games or some shit like that. Which is only half true at times...

Kicking off the covers, you feel the nice sheet of warmth peel back off. You get out of bed, walk across your room and began to slowly turn the knob, not wanting to make too much noise. Might wake up your brother, who's sleeping just down the hall. Pulling back the door with a swift motion, you creep down the hallway to get to the bathroom. The closer you got to it, the more the floor creaked. You bit your lip, hoping to god you're not disturbing your parent's slumber downstairs. Stupid dumb house, why did it have to be thirty years old?

You reach out to the door, realizing the door is closed after bumping into it, and cursed silently in your mind, repeating the same movement you performed on your bedroom door. You flick the light on, wincing, your eyes painfully adjusting to the sudden dark to light environment. Closing the door and locking it out of personal routine, you make your way over to the toilet, and stop, realizing you gotta go a lot more badly than you thought. Dropping your pants and underwear, you sit down and let out a tired sigh of relief.

Sweet relief. After your bladder emptied itself completely, you wait for… y'know… that to be done with too. So, while you wait, you look around the room idly, picking up the stick of your brother's deodorant and reading the back of it out of sleepy boredom. Then something catches your attention.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

You pause for a moment and look over to the tub, the shower curtains pulled all the way over to the other side completely blocking the other side from view. Man, that noise is annoying. You hated it when your brother didn't turn off the faucet after his shower. You just didn't know why, but that noise was completely annoying for no reason. You sit there, debating on weather you should even bother with turning that faucet to stop the water. Or just finish your business and get back to bed.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

You get back to reading the back of the deodorant, your mind drifting off to the sleepy part of your thoughts, almost smirking in what you JUST thought of. Wouldn't it have been funny if you just, pulled the shower curtain back to find some serial killer waiting for you, and strike once you pulled them back? Or some zombie, maybe even a stupid ghost. Pshh, that'll never happen. Not a chance in hell.

Drip.. Drip drip… Drip… Drip drip…

Hold on… Did the dripping get faster? No… No it was just your sleepy, overactive imagination. Yeah, that's all. Nothing to panic about. You place the deodorant back, and begin to drum your fingers on your knees, waiting for your body to hurry the fuck up so you can get back to bed. Scared? Pff who said you were scared? You're not scared of anything in your own bathroom. You've done this hundreds of times.

Drip drip… Drip drip drip drip… Drip…

What the hell… Seriously? This house is too old, the plumbing is total shit. You have to tell your dad about it tomorrow.

Drip.. Drip drip drip… Drip drip drip drip… Drip… Drip drip drip drip…. Drip drip…

Okay, that's it. You're gonna turn that faucet off tightly. You reach out to the far left side and pull back the curtains all the way to the other side. Freezing instantly.

Standing in the middle of your tub, is a dark haired woman. Her skin is pale, almost a shade of blue. Her skin under her fingernails are white, her fingertips are soggy and wrinkly looking, like she's been submerged in water for a long period of time. You gulp hard, and silent. Scared of what this, thing will do if you made any sudden movements. Her hair was completely in her face, maybe if you just, swiftly turn the faucet off and get the hell off the crapper, you'll be fine and safe in your room.

Quickly turning your eyesight to the faucet, you pause to realize… There isn't any water coming from it. The dripping… where was it coming from? The dripping is coming from… You slowly look back to the woman. Only to find her pale blue face inches away from yours. Her dead eyes were glazed over by, what looked like a second eyelid. Like a cat.

You can't scream. You can't move. You're just… frozen. Unable to move. Mouth gaped open, trying to force out anything. ANYTHING to make noise and to hopefully, have someone burst into this room. Slowly, a smile crept on her face. Her canine teeth were unusually sharp for any normal person. The second eyelid peeled away, revealing her bloodshot eyes.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"Cat got your tongue?"

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