Keyhole Peeking

Looking through a keyhole isn’t as cool as it looks in the movies. Right now, I’m looking through the keyhole of my neighbor’s room. Normally I wouldn’t be doing this. Since it really violates other people’s privacy. But an hour ago I heard something from the room. At first it wasn’t all that loud. Sounded like soft sobbing. It’s almost as if someone was trying to not be heard crying.

Though it wasn’t loud enough for me to care. All I did was turn up the sound on the T.V. Figuring someone was probably just going through something and I didn’t need to go do anything.

Ten minutes go by, and the sobbing gets louder. So much so that it drowned out the sounds of the T.V. Looking over at the wall that separated me from the other room, I scrambled for the nearby phone. Only to find that it wasn’t working. There was nothing but dead air coming from it. A thing that I hadn’t anticipated on. Normally I would have used my own phone but…I dropped it in the toilet an hour getting here. Something that I mentally cursed myself for twenty seconds or so. Then I decided to just go check the noise for myself. At first, I thought of knocking on the door but couldn’t. A small voice in the back of my mind cautioned me against that. Not wanting whatever is behind the door to know that I was trying to investigate it.

Instead, I knelt to peep into the keyhole. Another oddity looking back on it. As my door and the other doors were electronic keys. Yet this one was the only one that still somehow had a keyhole.

I suppose the reason wasn’t that hard to know now.

Looking around the room, I spotted nothing at first. Thinking that maybe I had heard it from another spot? That maybe I was hearing things. The crying had stopped the minute that I knelt in front of this door. But a few seconds later, I spotted someone in a light blue dress moving from the bathroom. Right over to the bed and sitting down. A young woman with light blond hair. Her hands were covering her face, so I couldn’t see it. Suddenly she started sobbing once more. Sounding more heartbroken than she did when I was in my room a few minutes before. Chewing my bottom lip, I debated on what to do next. Before I could even get a solid plan formed, she moved her hands. Turning her gaze straight towards me. My mouth went dry as I stared at where her eyes should be. They looked like they were gouged out of her socket. Dried blood rested on her cheeks in a morbid parody of the tears she would have been shedding. All of me was screaming to get away and go back to my own room. To go to the front desk and demand they call the police.

Yet I couldn’t force myself to move in the slightest bit. No matter how much I was internally screaming at myself to move. I was frozen in place. Watching as this woman got off her bed and made her way towards the door. In a low voice, she asked,”Who’s there?”

“W-who’s there?!”,she demanded. An idea of pretending to be room service came to mind. Telling the truth also came to mind. Yet I couldn’t get myself to even say one word as I watched her touch the doorknob. When the idea of her opening it up came to my mind I jumped backward. Crawling quickly over to my room as I watched the door. It opened a crack before I got mine shut. Then locked. A few seconds later, she was knocking on my door. Demanding to be let in. Which is where she still is right now. At five in the morning. Her voice growing in volume every second that she pounds on my door. I hope that there’s someone nearby calling the police.

Otherwise, I don’t think that door will last much longer.