IN THE WEE HOURS
Lyle awoke to the sound of running water. His room was dark, the windows open to the night, and somewhere...
The shower.
"Now what?" he muttered as he pulled the sheet aside and hung his legs over the edge of the bed.
He blinked and brought the display of his clock radio into focus: 1:21. He stared dully at the red LED digits. He felt drugged. He'd been way down in deep, deep sleep and his brain and body were still fumbling back to alertness. As he watched the display, the last digit changed to a zero.
7:20?
But just a few seconds ago it had been... or at least he'd thought it had been...
Never mind. The shower was running. He jumped off the bed and hurried to the adjoining bathroom.
Lyle felt the steam before he saw it. He fumbled along the wall, found the light switch, and flipped it on. Billows of moisture filled the bathroom, so thick he could barely find his way. He made it to the shower and reached out toward the curtain...
And hesitated. Something told him not to pull it open. Maybe one of those premonitions he didn't believe in, maybe the result of seeing too many horror movies, but he sensed something besides running water behind the curtain.
Feeling suddenly cold despite the enveloping hot mist, Lyle backed away, one step... two...
No. He wasn't giving in to this. With a strangled cry that anticipated the terror of what he might see, Lyle leaped forward and slashed the curtain aside.
He stood there in the steam, gasping, heart pounding, staring at a shower running full blast at max heat. But the spray wasn't running straight into the tub. It was bouncing against something... something that wasn't there and yet was. And after the spray struck whatever it was, the water turned red and ran down into the tub to swirled away into the drain.
Lyle closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked again.
The shower continued to run and billow up steam, but the spray now flowed uninterrupted into the tub, and remained clear all the way down to the drain.
What's happening to me? he thought as he reached in and turned the knob.
And then he sensed someone behind him in the steam.
"Wha-?"
He spun and found no one. But movement to his left caught Lyle's eye. Something on the big mirror over the sink... dripping lines forming on the moisture-laden glass... connecting into letters... then...
Words.
Who are you?
Lyle could only stare, could only think that this wasn't happening, he was dreaming again, and pretty soon-
Three more question marks, each bigger than the last, added themselves to the end of the question.
Who are you????
"I... I'm Lyle," he croaked, thinking, It's a dream, so play along. "Who are you?"
I dont know.
"Why are you here?"
The same words were rewritten below.
I dont know. Im scared. I want to go home
"Where's home?"