The Locker Room Incident

June 26, 2012

by Imelda

3 min read

Story Premise 3 min read (509 words)

"I’ve always had a knack for sensing things that others can’t. Not seeing ghosts, mind you, but feeling their presence like a chill that creeps up your spine. It’s a curse, really, especially when you’re trying to lead a normal life. My name is Harper, and I recently started a new job at a tech […]"

I’ve always had a knack for sensing things that others can’t. Not seeing ghosts, mind you, but feeling their presence like a chill that creeps up your spine. It’s a curse, really, especially when you’re trying to lead a normal life. My name is Harper, and I recently started a new job at a tech firm called Synapse Solutions, a sleek, glassy building that boasted of innovation and brilliance.

On my second week, a woman from the accounting department, Marlene, collapsed in the women’s locker room on the third floor. She had a heart attack, and despite the frantic efforts of our office manager, who performed CPR until the paramedics arrived, she couldn’t be revived. The whole floor was in shock. They wheeled her out through the main entrance, her body on a stretcher, covered with a white sheet. I felt a cold wave pass through me as they took her away, a hint that something lingered behind.

I tried to put it out of my mind, but every time I used that locker room, I braced myself. I’d pause at the door, holding my breath, waiting for a sign. Days passed, and nothing happened. I began to think that maybe Marlene had moved on, maybe she wasn’t one of those restless spirits. I went back to my routine, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the locker room had changed.

Then, yesterday, it happened. I was alone in the locker room, changing after a long shift. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the gray lockers. I heard it first: a faint, rhythmic drip, like water from a leaky faucet. But the sink was dry. I turned, and there she was.

Not a solid form, but a shimmer, a distortion in the air near the far lockers. I felt her presence more than saw it, a coldness that seeped into my bones. I froze, my heart pounding. The dripping grew louder, and I realized it was coming from the locker where Marlene had stored her belongings. I took a step forward, against my better judgment.

The locker door swung open slowly, creaking on its hinges. Inside, a small puddle of water formed on the floor, spreading like a dark stain. In the reflection of the metal, I could see a face, not Marlene’s, but mine, with hollow eyes and a watery distortion. I stumbled back, but the reflection smiled.

I ran out of the locker room, my shoes squeaking on the floor, and didn’t stop until I reached the safety of the main office. My coworkers looked up, startled by my pale face. I couldn’t explain what I had seen. I only knew that Marlene was still here, trapped in that locker room, and she wanted me to know.

Now, I avoid that floor entirely. I take the stairs, use the restroom on the second floor, anything to stay away. But I can still feel her, watching, waiting. The locker room is her domain now, and I fear that one day, she’ll call me back.

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