The Haunted Bathroom
Life in a college dorm wasn’t going exactly as I had planned it out to be. Always having being smothered with my parents; more than needed attention, I was desperate to get into college so I can have my own dorm, since my own dorm would mean, my own life, my rules, my independence and my way in everything. However, despite the usual perks, sharing a bathroom with about five other people, three of whom were from the floor above us was terrible. I absolutely hated it. Nothing was more frustrating than wanting to take a shower and discovering that other people want to as well. They would use my lotions and potions, squeeze my tiny Winnie the Pooh bottles out of the lovely shampoos they had in them, leave my hair straightening iron on, and finish all my face was. Not to mention the slobbery mess they would all leave in there. I was desperate to have a get out. I needed a bathroom of my own. My own personal ne where I would blow frothy bubbles in the shower and listen to music while sinking in the hot tub at nights after a tiring day at college or get ready for a date.
The reason they wouldn’t use their own upstairs was because it was closed down after some bloke got himself massively drunk at some bar in downtown Manhattan and passed out on the bathroom’s floor. He hit his head on the sink as hell, leaving a deep gash on his forehead which left him severely wounded. He died due to blood loss and since he was drunk as well, couldn’t survive the wound and died. The incident had sparked much distress in the university back then and the bathroom was closed down after it. The death of the guy was a legend in the dormitories of Georgia’s University. Yeah sure, as if it wasn’t some fake story the college maintannce had come up with to avoid the maintanence expenses.
So after a couple of weeks of bathroom sharing with the four others, I finally exploded.
“I’m sick of sharing a bathroom with you disgusting lot,” I grumbled to...