Third Floor – S. Sufar

So I live in a hostel. I once shared a room with three other guys who I didn’t know very well. It was a while ago, and luckily they all turned out to be nice.

One spring night I woke up to pee, and so did one of my roommate. He woke up a bit before than me, so I waited, lying on my bed half-asleep, listening to the humming sound made by the ceiling fan. I was mesmerized by its circular monotony. My daze was interrupted by the sudden creaking of the bathroom door. I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom; the whole time, my roommate kept staring at me in a very peculiar way. I couldn’t make much of his face in the dark, but it seemed expressionless. I’d been holding it for a while at this point, so I didn’t stay to ask; I just went to the bathroom, relieved myself, and came out.

They were all gone. Their beds were empty, the pillows and sheets seemed untouched, like they hadn’t even been there. Even the fan was off. The sound of the silence was deafening. I started to wonder if they were playing a prank on me or something.  I walked closer to the door and I could hear the stillness in the corridor. I went to touch the doorknob, and suddenly somebody giggled. The sound came from down the road. Seconds later, another giggle followed, this time from the corridor. Then another, a bit closer this time. Cold sweat ran down my forehead. I jerked back from the door. I was drowning in my own breathlessness. My mind was perplexed. I stood in place, stupefied. Then came a thuck thuck knocking sound on my window. Why would somebody knock on my window? Thuck-Thuck. Who could be knocking on my window? My room is on the third floor, I’m on the third floor, I’M ON THE THIRD FLOOR…


Sadith took advantage of our free program for emerging authors. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Share Your Story


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