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May Your Dreams Come True

by Melody Lee

what's behind the door?


Melody says: I have always loved writing. I'm an avid reader, and I read most of the genres. I'm also a member of Critique Circle, a wonderful site where you can have your stories critiqued by other writers.


I have this dream again. For the past few nights, I have been having it. The image is always vivid in my mind. I tried brushing it off but it continues to haunt me come night after I hit the pillow. I am terrified of going to sleep, but of course one couldn’t go without sleeping. I am the type who will have a splitting headache if I am sleep deprived. It’s that bad, I have to accept it.

“You look terrible, Mae. You’ve dark circles under your eyes. Didn’t you sleep well?” Amy, my work colleague asks me the moment I step into the office.

I whip out a compact mirror from my handbag after settling down in my seat. She is right. I’m as pale as a ghost. Perhaps one might guess I dreamt of ghosts to portray a ghostly impression but it isn’t. Ghosts are not that scary in my opinion. I always believe that if one has a clear conscience and didn’t do anything wrong, one shouldn’t worry too much about them.

I didn’t tell anyone about my dreams. I don’t think they would believe me anyway. It’s – well, too absurd. Given the chance, I wouldn’t believe myself too if it didn’t happen to me. It is that bad.

I fake a smile and put the compact mirror back into my handbag. “I’ve had a bad night. Maybe I drank too much coffee.”

I used to be allergic to caffeine. Tea, coffee, and sometimes even a few cans of cola will keep me awake effectively. Previously and sometimes to an extent, I will drink lots of these to prevent sleep from coming; until one day it doesn’t work anymore. My body system has become immune to them. I have no more solutions to prevent myself from dozing off.

Amy gives me a sympathetic look and pats me on my shoulder before she goes off to her own workstation. I then feel the need to go to the restroom, so I leave my desk and walk out of the office. The restrooms – male and female – are situated in the common area of the level. Anyone can use the restrooms provided you have access to the keys. This is to prevent the outsiders from using the offices’ restrooms.

This time it isn’t any different from my other visits.  I insert the key and twist the knob. The door creaks as I push it wider. The creaking sounds always make my hair stand on end but no one seems to complain about the rusty hinges that need to be oiled. I step into the restroom, my heels clicking loudly in my ears. I am alone.

Then I notice right at the far end of the cubicle, a closed door. Someone is probably in it so at least my heart doesn’t accelerate so much now, I am no longer alone, and someone is probably in the cubicle. I choose a cubicle in between and shut the door. While I am in the cubicle, I hear the flush of water in another cubicle. I take no notice because I know there is someone in there. I wait for the sound of the door to open but it doesn’t come. I wait some more but to no avail.

I’m finished and flush.  The water flushes the cubicle with a roar. It still amazes me that the restrooms in this building still use the pull flush system, it seems so obsolete to me.

I click the lock and open the door. I look at the mirror the first thing I leave the cubicle. The mirror is long; I can see the other cubicles as well. I notice the door of the cubicle at the far end is still closed. Shrugging, thinking someone must be still in there; I walk to the sink and wash my hands as I look at my reflection in the mirror. Under the dim fluorescent light, my face appears even paler. I make a face when I hear another flush of water in the cubicle again. This time, I expect someone to walk out from the cubicle any time soon but the door remains closed.

The scene strikes me as strange, but I wonder about the woman inside the cubicle, is she alright? 

I clear my throat and ask, “Hello, are you all right?”

No answer.

Thinking she might not have heard me, I ask again, this time louder. “Hello, are you all right?”

Still there is no answer.

I’m starting to feel a bit uneasy, and anxious of what’s happened to the woman inside the cubicle. Perhaps she’s fainted.

I walk to the cubicle and push the door. It doesn’t budge. It is locked inside. I peek underneath the cubicle. It’s empty!

I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. I have to get out of here fast! This is what exactly I have dreamt over the past few nights. Someone will flush the water in her cubicle but no matter how long I wait, the door will never open! This is what worries me in the dream - I never get to see the person in the cubicle - there must be some kind of logic in it.

That night, I toss and turn in bed. I have drunk a cup of tea and before I go to bed another two cups of strong coffee. I am keeping my fingers crossed that even if I do doze off, I will have a dreamless night.

The clock ticks as time goes by. My eyes are open until I feel my eyelids are getting heavier until they cover my eyes. The caffeine doesn’t work. I drift off.

I am in the restroom. I notice right at the far end of the cubicle, a closed door. I choose a cubicle in between and shut the door. While I am in the cubicle, I hear the flush of water in another cubicle. I take no notice because I know there is someone in there. I wait for the sound of the door to open but it doesn’t come. I wait some more but to no avail.

I chose a cubicle in random and shut the door. While I am sitting on the cubicle seat relieving myself, I heard water flushing in one of the cubicles. I take no notice because I know there is someone in there. I wait for the sound of the door to open but there isn’t. I wait some more but to no avail.

I’m finished and flush.  The water flushes the cubicle with a roar.

I click the lock and open the door. I look at the mirror the first thing I leave the cubicle. I notice the door of the cubicle at the far end is still closed. I walk to the sink and wash my hands as I look at my reflection in the mirror. I then hear water flushing in the cubicle again. This time, I expect someone to walk out from the cubicle any time soon but the door remains closed.

I’m starting to feel a bit uneasy, and anxious of what’s happened to the woman inside the cubicle. Perhaps she’s fainted.

“Hello, are you all right?” I asked.

No answer.

I ask again, this time louder. “Hello, are you all right?”

Still there is no answer.

I walk to the cubicle and push the door. It doesn’t budge. It is locked inside. I peek underneath the cubicle. It’s empty! Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I look up and before I realize what happens, a pair of strong hands clasps my mouth and hauls me towards the center of the restroom. I struggle but I feel myself getting weaker and weaker until I am knocked unconsciousness. Before I surrender to the darkness, I thought I saw a glimpse of nose ring pierced on the man’s nose. It glittered under the light, mocking me.

It is at that moment I wake up from my sleep. My shirt is drenched with sweat. Usually my dream ends when I notice the cubicle is empty, but tonight the dream goes further. I saw the man, and I know what he is trying to do to me! With trembling fingers, I switch the lamp on the nightstand beside my bed.

The next day, I go to the office with a heavy heart and darker rings around my eyes. I don’t think I will ever go to the restroom alone again. The thought is too terrifying.

“Mae, you look much worse than yesterday! I think you better go and see a doc!” Amy then even offers to accompany me to visit the clinic. I refused until I broke down and told her the truth.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers and her face is as white as a sheet after she heard my tales. Finally she pulls me to a corner and in a hushed tone, she says, “You know, two years ago, before you joined the company, one of the female staff was raped and murdered in the restroom. Till now, the rapist is still at large. Perhaps you can offer some assistance to the police. In the meantime, you’ve got to find someone to accompany you when going to the restroom until the rapist is caught.”

Still in a shock but I agree with her plan. I return to my workstation and pick up the phone. I press 9-1-1.


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