An Odd Occurrence

I had an odd experience last night I wanted to write down before it fades from memory.  I suppose I should give a little background; I’m a night watchman at (REDACTED).  I requested the night shift specifically; I like the graveyard shift.  Yes, it pretty much kills the prospect of a normal life, but seeing as I just passed my thirty-fourth birthday without so much as a single prospect for romance, I’ve pretty much given up on having that kind of life.  I’m a writer, and I’m happy with that … doesn’t stop be from being wistful, though.

Anyway, I’ve worked graveyards for a long time, and the security job is right up my alley; with the exception of some scheduling shenanigans I won’t get into, it was quiet, peaceful, and allowed me to continue my writing while still doing my job. The only downside is that I have to sleep in the day; it’s not as big a problem as it used to be; my roommates and I have an understanding about staying quiet while someone else in the house is sleeping, and only need the occasional reminder.  It does, however, mean that if I need to get up in the middle of the day, it’s usually still light enough out to see. 

If you’ve ever worked graveyard shifts, however, you no doubt are aware that although your body can eventually become accustomed to sleeping in the day and working at night, it never fully adjusts.  One day is all it takes for your body to switch back, leaving you effectively back at square one when you go back to work.  As much as I tried not to let that happen, I must confess some part of me does yearn for being social, if only for a bit. I like hanging out with my roommates, watching movies and playing games and such.  Because of this, I tend to sleep at night on my days off.

It was one such ‘weekend’ (in fact, my days off were Tuesday and Wednesday) that I woke up after a particularly loud snore.  I peered up at my computer blearily for a few moments as my groggy mind struggled to make the transition from the dream realm back to the mainstream.  The wall of text on the screen was part of the fourth Dreamer’s Knight book, a chapter I had been struggling to finish for a time now.  After a few minutes of staring at the screen, my eyes final focused on the time: 2:36. My last waking memories flitting back to my head, I fumbled for the mouse, saved the file, and shut down my computer so I could go to bed.

I didn’t even get to sit down before my bladder send an urgent signal to my brain.  With a groan, I staggered out of my room and into the darkness of the house.  I could navigate the kitchen easy enough, thanks to all the LEDs on the various appliances. Using a bourbon glass, I poured myself a quick drink of blue kool aid (not sure on the flavor; it was blue, and I’ve always had a fascination with blue drinks) before continuing toward the bathroom.

There are two bathrooms in our house; one’s part of the master bedroom, and therefore only accessible to the good Captain, who pays the mortgage.  The other is at the far end of the hall, third door on the left.  As I’m usually making this run with daylight, I was forced to resort to slowly walking down the hall, one hand touching the wall.  The first frame was the broom closet.  From behind the second, I could hear two sets of light breathing; the Captain and his ‘it’s complicated’. Finding the third door, I ran my hand across the door until I found the handle. Wincing a little at the cold feel of the metal, I started to open the door when a flood of light made me pull my hand and use it to shield my eyes from the sudden light.

My other roommate, Ishee, stepped out of the brightly lit room, a sleepy look on his face.  “Hey Alan.” He mumbled before shuffling off to his room.

I stared at the open door for a few moments before I realized it was the bathroom.  I quickly looked back at the handle I grabbed, only to see a blank wall. 

As much as I love fantasy, I’m not an idiot; I obviously misjudged my distance down the hallway and mistaken what I touched. Still, I wanted to write about this because of that single moment of fear, of horror that ran through me.  I’ve long been a fan of horror movies, games, and creepypasta readings, all in search of that strange thrill of being actually scared, but it’s been a long time since something got my blood pumping like that moment in the hallway.