The Countdown

Time is slowly tickling out, and Roberta 'Bobbie' Rowe, who at first didn't believe in ghosts, is slowly starting to realize the impact of the small pieces of paper in her bathroom counting down the days. ♦ For the 'Do You Dare Say Her Name?' competition ♦

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5. Day 5 - Last Day

I wake up at exactly 06.00 am to a light snoring from a sleeping Naya beside me.

“Nay,” I whisper, or croak more like, because my mouth had never felt as dry as now.

“I’m sorry, Bobbie,” she whispers back, opening her eyes to look at me.

“No it’s me who should be sorry,” I say, eyes sorrowful, and she pulls me in for a hug.

“No, I- I – when I found you –  lying in the bathroom. I also found a piece of paper in the cubicle. It- It was really wet because the water was still running, but I saw it. Bobbie, I came as soon as you didn’t pick up, and- and I took you to the hospital again and-“

“Nay,” I shush, with a sad smile gracing my lips. “It’s okay,” I say, even though deep down I know it’s really not. I try to hide my trembling, as I tell her to go back to sleep, not, however, ever falling asleep again myself.

 

Drip – Drip – drip

Next time I wake, it’s to a very familiar sound, and as soon as I see that Naya is not beside me I’m out of bed. I run to the bathroom in an immense hurry – slamming the door open with mighty force, not caring for my pounding scar. But then I stop up, dead in my tracks. In a moment of gore I completely forget how to breathe. An arm. AN FREAKING ARM – IS STICKING OUT FROM THE SHOWER CURTAINS. And then I recognize it; the pink-colored nails, the little scar by the wrist, the slightly crooked pinky. My body freezes completely, my mind for a moment too. It’s Naya, my head screams at me. But it can’t be! I deny inwardly, until I take a deep breath and pull the curtains away with a swift hand movement, and then scrambles back. My hands reach to cover my mouth as I scream. I hit the sink and falls to the floor, but I couldn’t care less. Tears are streaming down my cheeks like a waterfall, my ears I ringing, my vision is blurred. Before me in the cubicle lays no other than the dead body of my best friend, dead eyes staring deeply into mine. Last day, the paper on her forehead reads, and let out yet another scream. My nose is running, and my eyes are hurting, but here I am hitting the fucking sink, with my already hurt. I can’t believe it.

“No,” I cry, voice hysteric, “No!”, I scream, scrambling back to pull her out. “Nay?!” I beg desperately as I cradles face in my lap. “NAY, PLEASE SAY SOMETHING!” I yell, clapping her face hysterically. I’m too caught up to notice the wavering shadow in the mirror, and the bloody hand reaching out of it to grip the sink.

Drip – Drip - Drip

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Wordcount: 2995

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