I pulled the phone away from my ear the moment the message ended. I never recalled telling the realtor woman I was looking for a place to write or that I was a writer. Figuring maybe she’d read my book or something, I didn’t find it disconcerting and went to the bathroom for a shower.

Turning on the faucet, I was startled to see what came out of it. At first, I thought it resembled blood, but then it started sputtering brownish water with a foul smell.

“What the fuck?”

I quickly turned it off and got dressed. Then, leaving the room, I headed towards the motel’s sad excuse for a lobby.

Seeing the old woman behind the counter gave me grief because I knew my complaint would more than likely go unheard.

Her beady eyes stared at me as I walked in and up to the desk.

“What you need?”

She asked before I even spoke.

“Somethings wrong with the faucet water in room seven.”

She huffed, “Did you let it run for a minute?”

I nodded, responding, “Yes. For a moment.”

“You need to let it run for a few minutes. We just had work done on the pipes in the room next to it. Probably rust.”

I wanted to argue, saying I didn’t think it was rust. I knew rusty water. This wasn’t my first motel and hotel rodeo. Before I could say anything, the old woman turned away from me, picked up an old-fashioned rotary phone behind the desk, and started dialing.

I rolled my eyes in frustration and left. I didn’t want to squabble with the hundred-year-old bitty, so I went back to the room.

After 10 minutes of letting the water run and thinking of the day's events, it finally ran clear. The smell, however, lingered, and there was no fan in the bathroom.

Once again, I got undressed and started the shower.

Steam filled the bathroom, and I leaned against the side wall letting the hot water hit my body after. I quickly washed with what was left of the small chunks of complimentary soap and then attempted to clear my mind.

I tried not to stray too deep into my memories, but the screams from the accident two years ago were always in my ears. It was like having the TV in the background with the volume set to a faint hum.

I was focusing so hard on trying not to think I didn’t realize the water had gone cold.

I swore loudly and reached for the handle to turn it off, but that’s when I heard it.

A knock on the bathroom door.

Startled, I jumped, almost slipping into the slick tub as I yelled loudly and turned off the water.

“Who the hell’s there?”

There was no answer.

Grabbing a towel from the rack above the tub, I dried my face and wrapped it around me.

Still, no response.

I stood there, hesitant to open the door. The drain softly gurgled as the remaining amount of water found its way down.

I stepped out and reached for the door handle but froze. The light coming in from under the door became shadowed as if someone or something was standing there. The sound of dragging on the carpet outside the bathroom door made me pull back my hand. I wasn’t about to open now.

I didn’t know what kind of threats I could hurl at whatever was out there, but I bluffed anyway.

“I’ve got a gun, so you have ten seconds to leave, or I’m shooting!”

Realizing how ridiculous I sounded, to even me, I cringed. I didn’t want to deal with this bullshit.

It seemed to work, though, the sound stopped, and the light under the door became more visible.

I reached back again for the handle and slowly put my fingers around it. My heart was beating so fast, and the dryness in my throat made it hard to swallow.

Taking one last breath the best I could, I yelled as I opened the door and jumped out, holding my towel around my waist. Nothing. There was nothing there. I rushed over to the room's front door and saw the deadbolt was in place along with the hook lock. Someone could not have come in unless they ripped off that lock.

I sat on the bed, dripping wet, still in my towel.

“What the hell is going on with you, Sam,” I asked myself, scraping my fingers through hair that seriously needed a trim.

 “Occasional flashbacks, sure, they happen, but never hallucinations.”

I shook my head and got dressed.

My throat was still dry, so I decided to see if the old soda machine still worked. Then, stuffing some change in my jean pocket, I left the room.

Slowly opening the hotel door, cool air woke me up. Looking around, I could see the single lot full of cars and trucks. The place must be packed to the brim.

Several doors down, I could hear bumping music behind a room door. I got a glimpse inside the window when I passed it, going to the soda machine. Some guy in a checkered flannel with a trucker hat was holding up a beer as two trashy blondes danced around him to the music, wearing only their underwear.

“Glad someone is having fun,” I murmured as I stopped in front of the old model soda dispenser.

Looking down the line of options, there was only one kind not sold out. A diet soda. Well, it’s wet, and I’m thirsty, so I put my money in the coin dispenser.

 Being .75 cents seemed pretty cheap for a can of soda, so I couldn’t complain. Pushing the button on the machine, it clicked, and my change jingled as it dropped down inside, and then the thump of a soda can was heard.

Bending over to grab it, I heard someone's voice behind me.

“You got lucky. That machine never works.”

I stood up quickly with soda in hand to see the woman from earlier today running the motel's front desk.

She wasn’t smiling in a friendly manner, but I think she just had one of those faces that always looked pissed.

“Oh, yeah. Seems there’s only diet.”

She nodded at my comment and walked to the room where the trucker and half-naked woman were.

I just watched, curious as to what was about to happen.

Banging on the door must have gotten the guy inside's attention, and he opened it.

“You know the rules, Fred, after 8, there’s no noise, or Mavis will boot you out quick. It takes only one call, Fred! So turn that shit down.”

I couldn’t see the guy, but I heard the music volume decrease significantly.

“Awe, come on, Tina, it’s my only night off. Please don’t let Mavis do that! I’m begging ya. We just have a little fun, is all.”

The woman Tina shook her head, “Your only night off? Then you should be home with YOUR WIFE, not here with Barbie and Trixie, drinking and doing only god knows what. So this is your first and only warning Fred, keep it down. And for the lord's sake, clean the room up this time. Took me three days to get the smell out.”

The woman Tina turned and headed back to the room once Fred shut the door. I don’t know why I was compelled to ask her, but I called out, “Hey, uh, wait!”

She stopped and turned to me, “What!?”

I blew off her snapping at me and asked, “Do you have a second?”

Her chunky mascara blue eyes looked me over as I came closer.

“A second for what? If you need something, you can talk to Barbie or Trixie once they are done with Fred. I don’t do that shit.”

I looked at her, obviously showing offense to her comment, so she apologized, “Sorry, one never can tell. What do you want?”

Her look softened, so I let it go and asked her about the room I was in.

“Well, there are two things I need to ask you about. First, if the room next to me had work done, why is there brown shit coming out of the faucet in mine? Second, do these rooms get broken into a lot?”

I would have sworn I’d just told her there was a dead body in my room when her face changed after hearing me out.

“Come with me.”

Her voice was almost a whisper, and I followed her to the front entrance of the motel.

Once inside, she looked behind me and waved me around the desk to the door behind it.

I felt out of place following her, but when we went through the door, and she flipped on the light, the typical office setting gave me a familiar feeling. It was average compared to the town. Not old, dingy, or dust-ridden, nor did it have a single smell to it other than the smell of paper.

She closed the door behind us and walked over to the desk. Leaning against it, she took a deep breath.

“I’m going to tell you something because you are checking out tomorrow, according to the books. Unfortunately, the room you’re in only became available right before you arrived yesterday. Someone was murdered there last week, and because of the damage, we had to redo the entire bathroom. That would explain the plumbing issue.”