Maximum Occupancy: One

Posted: October 19, 2014 in Flash Fiction, Horror

I woke up one day and the door to my room was gone. I beat on the wall where it used to be, but I wasn’t sure if my roommate could hear me. I tossed last night’s water out of the glass on my bedside table – later, I would regret that – and put the glass up to the wall, an old eavesdropping trick. I couldn’t hear a damn thing. In another two days I was dehydrated, desperate, and tired of the smell of my own shit. I knew I had to break through the wall before I got any weaker. What scared me was thinking I might be too weak already.


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