"That was nothing. That was nothing. That was nothing."
A mantra, a prayer, a beg even. The same few words kept playing in Clarisse's mind as she scrubbed her hands. There's no way. She did nothing wrong, and she deserved nothing wrong. So why was the air a little colder, the rushing water a little softer, and her breathing a little harder?
With the flick of her wrist she closed the tap. It was just a normal Wednesday, and whatever the knock was, it has gone away. The door was a mere three steps from the sink. She had to get out someday, wouldn't she? And so, with a spark of courage, she soundlessly made her way to the exit.
Her fingers rested on the handle. At the slowest speed possible, she inched the sliding door to the right, hoping for a warning for whatever jumpscare lay before her.
Blank wall.
More blank wall.
Clothes.
The crack was about five centimetres wide, and she could see most of her bedroom from that obscure angle. With a sigh of relief, she pushed the door fully.
Everything was in its place. It was as if the knock had never happened. It was as if she had just gotten off work, taken a bath, and was ready to settle in bed with a book and some tea.
And then her phone rang.
It was shrill and loud, slicing through the silent tension that filled the air. It took three or four rings to shake Clarisse to action, having recovered from the shock and registered that yes, she did have responsibilities.
"Hello?"
"Clarisse! I've been wanting to contact you for a while now. I'm Rachel, your secondary school classmate? I'm not quite sure if you remember me, and I know this may sound a bit weird, but something has been off and I think you're the only one who knows anything about it..."
Rachel? Now Rachel was quite a common name, and her secondary school did have quite a few Rachels in it, but one Rachel in particular stood out like a sore thumb. A throbbingly sore thumb. But it couldn't be.
Not that Rachel who stalked her on her way home. Not she who told every teacher rumours-- FALSE ones at that-- about her. Not the girl who was prying her away from her best friend. And certainly it couldn't be her that... disappeared.
"Um, how did you get my number?"
"-and you can certainly take your time to-- oh. Well it's a long story really, and... I did a little bit of snooping on Telegram... and Facebook, so..."
Right. She forgot she had those things.
"Anyway. Would you be free to meet me for a chat? It's been what, more than ten years? I'd love to hear about you and what you've been up to, I don't want to come across as selfish or-"
"Rachel, you DISAPPEARED!"
The elephant in the room was out. Clarisse felt as though she had broken a barrier with the ensuing seconds of silence.
With a little while more of bated breath, a soft voice replied, "I will explain all of that... when we meet."
Ah! The good ol' curiosity kills the cat trickeroo! Threaten me with suspense and put me into potential danger! Give me choices but no choice at the same time!
To be fair, Clarisse was a young woman with minimal income and loads of debt to clear, so that deal seemed surprisingly desirable. As with anyone else, she had little to no will left to live, and her life was a monotonous droning voice on record. And it's not like Rachel could... kill her, right? The last time she checked, that would be very illegal. She would agree to meet in a crowded spot with plenty of witnesses. Preferably next to a police station.
"Fine. When?"
And with that, a suspicious, up-to-no-good, 0.1%-chance-of-a-happy ending rendezvous was planned.