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 ♦


2. Day 2

I sit up straight to the sound of my window slamming shut, and I feel how my heartbeat speeds up from the shock, and adrenaline pumps through my body.  However it was nothing but a slight shock, and although I don’t remember opening the window, before I went to bed, I don’t let it affect me much. I am surely just a little jumpy from yesterday, and I really shouldn’t think too much about it. I jump out of bed with little to no effort, and go straight to the bathroom from there. A little sleepy and with droopy eyes, I sway my red curls out of the way. They land on my back with a light thud, and I move to take a look at my reflection in the mirror. Hair’s is sticking out here and there, and oh, I think, as I notice the splotzes of kohl around my eyes. My hand unconsciously reaches for the water tap, but to my deepest frustration I find that it doesn’t spill any water. I scratch my eyebrow and look down at the sink, slightly worried that is, until I get a look of the water filled sink: blurred, red. I can feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, a big lump forming in my throat. What am I supposed to do?! My mind inwardly screams.

“This is sick. This is sick. I swear to god, it better be paint who colored this water,” I hiss, cringing so much I almost get tears in my eyes as I put my hand down in the weirdly hot liquid to pull out the plug. I badly want to scream as I feel something swipe against my hand when I pull it back up, but I bite my lip, and keep it down.  I don’t want to know what it is, but the red-colored water is soon disappearing into the unplugged hole, and for a moment I wish whatever I touched would just disappear with too. Sadly, however, I had never been a lucky person, and soon a little wet piece of paper stop the flooding of the water. Perhaps it might have seemed a little immature to stand and whine, but in that moment I couldn’t care less. I pick up the piece of paper and unfold it carefully, as the last drops of water disappear. 4 days, it reads, and I can feel my heartbeat speeding up.  This is just a joke, I tell myself, I shouldn’t be scared, I tell myself, but I am. My hands are trembling more and more by each passing second.

The sound of my mobile ringing loudly cuts through the air, and I jump and drop the paper from the sudden shock of the sound of Michael Jackson pouring through the house. I let the paper lay on the bathroom tiles, as I slip out the door to fish up my mobile from my bedroom. NAYA, my mobile reads in bold letters. I take a deep breath and lick my lips. I hadn’t realized before now how dry my mouth is, and as soon as I slide my finger over the little screen, suddenly I doubt my ability to speak.

“Hey Bobbie, where are you? I’ve been waiting for you for the past 5 minutes,” Nayas voice sounds, worried. My breathing picks up its pace. Out of the corner of my eyes a shadow passes by the outside of my window. “I – I’m” I can’t breathe. Suddenly I’m way too aware of my surroundings, and my eyes flickers around wildly at even the tiniest of noises, and I can feel how sweat is building on my forehead.

“I-,“ I breathe, and I can hear Naya shuffling on the other end.

“Bobbie is something wrong?” I don’t answer. I can’t. It’s darkening for my eyes, and my heart is beating so hard it hurts. “Bobbie?!” she calls, scared. But all I can think of is how every limp of my body is shaking. “N-Nay” I croak out. Then it all goes black.

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