This is the third house this week we’ve looked at. Another single family two bed one bath house, a nice house nonetheless, though not much different from the others. The realtor said it was built in the seventies, 1972 to be exact; the house has all of the old aesthetics all houses had during that decade. Shag carpet, wood paneling, skylights, cramped kitchen, and don’t get me started on the carpet in the bathroom. Why did old people back then do that so often? Either way other than the carpeted bathroom, the shower that was in there was pretty. A good size for how small the house is. Seems they really saved money up for it but it was weird and off, not the pink tile they used or the wheels on the glass door rails were rusted and hard to slide open. It has way too many faucet heads, like five. Why are there five faucets and none are the same height or on the same side of the wall. Hell, one was just high enough to get your feet under and get wet. A couple of them were dripping a drop of water every couple of seconds and the drops would sync up one after another perfectly. I don’t know why I noticed that, I just thought it was interesting. Drip.
The floor has six drains, again they weren't symmetrical, it looked like they just grabbed a handful and tossed them on the ground and installed them where they landed. Why is this the world's weirdest shower? Who would even contract this? The walls looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a minute, calcium build up on the edges, dirty grout, water marks everywhere, rusted edges of the drains. Drip drip. The wife came in and saw me looking at this horrid thing. She had the same confused look I had on the shower, the turned to me and looked with a “what the fuck,” look on her face. I shrug and then we walked out the bathroom and headed to the backyard. Drip.
The backyard was nice and big, had some very green grass a little tall but flowing with the wind like waves on a lake. Rest of the house is what you would expect from a house this age. We meet back with the realtor and talk a bit about the house, “I think we are gonna pass on this house. It’s a little small and the renovation on the carpet and Lord forbid, try and make the shower normal and clean it up would just be over budget for what we are looking for.” Drip drip.
We head home and look at the other house options we checked out this week and schedule in the two other homes we had eyes on to look for next week. We’re eating supper and my wife mentions to me, “what would make anyone want a shower with five faucets and that many drains?” I jokingly say, “maybe they used it for a dog grooming business.” It was a weird shower, nothing I’ve been able to think of makes no logical sense just grasping for straws at this point. Drip Drip.
I get some pajamas and get ready to go shower. Turn the water on and wait for it to warm up a bit. Wait for the steam to roll out. I go to step into the shower and immediately feel anxious, my skin feels sensitive, my hair is standing, the walls feel insanely gross, the water going into the drain has a deafening roar. I shut the water off in a panic and everything feels normal again. “What was that about?” I haven’t felt such sensory overload like that since asking out my first girlfriend. I hate that feeling. I turned on the water again and instantly my senses were on fire, my nerves were screaming for me to get out of the water. Fight or flight doesn’t make sense here, what the fuck is going on. I jump out of the shower and watch the steam from the water roll to the ceiling. I feel fine out of the shower. “What the hell is wrong with me?” “We only looked at houses today. I'm not that dirty. I’ll be fine till tomorrow.” I mumble to myself. I dry off and crawl into bed. Drip drip drip.
Drip drip drip drip.
Is it raining outside? My eyes creak open and roll over. Check the alarm clock 12:24 a.m., I swore I heard water dripping out of the gutters. I check the window and the moon is out and illuminating the concrete outside, bone dry, not a drop of moisture. Guess I was dreaming really hard. I crawl back into bed. Doze back to sleep. Drip drip drip. Woke up, checked the windows again, and can still see the moon. Check the clock, 1:48 a.m. I doze back to sleep after tossing and turning for an hour or so. The alarm clock is blaring, 5:00 a.m. I didn't hear mystery rain again tonight, thankfully. Roll out of bed, get dressed, head to the door, and head to work. I’m insanely tired from waking up like I did last night. I got a text from my realtor about getting us scheduled to check out the next house later this evening. Got to work, clocked-in, made a few calls, sold some products for returning customers, lunchtime. I went to the bathroom to wash my hands after lunch. Drip.
Why is the dripping from the faucets so loud, like unbelievably loud. The crash of the drops sound like a golf ball hitting a car. Maybe just the lack of sleep from last night, ears being sensitive and all. I start rinsing my hands and that feeling hits again, not as strong but I can feel my hairs on my neck stand, almost as if they're trying to break free. I try to fight past it to get the grease off my hands but this strange feeling is too much i just jerk my hands back. Sling water everywhere; I feel as if I'm almost out of breath, panting, my face looks red in the mirror like I’ve been working outside on a hot day. “What is wrong with me?” I mumble. I dry my hands and go back to work, I sit down and try to cool off and forget about it. Gotta get my head straight about the house viewing later tonight. Though I wonder something about the previous house, the one with the weird shower. I don’t know what it is but I have a gut feeling telling me to go back and give it another look. I text the realtor to see if she can squeeze in that previous house tonight too. Get an instant reply of, “yes, no one is looking at it today so no problem.” I’m excited to get back to work to make the day go by faster. Drip drip drip drip.
I meet with my wife and realtor at the new house. The realtor goes over the history of the house and its square foot and other realtor jargon. I don’t care about the room size or the condition of the backyard, I need to see the bathroom. We walk to the door and get the lock box, then goes to unlock the box with the keypad, the keypad beeps and flashes red. “That’s the code they gave me,” she says under her breath. She tries again, same thing, beep and flashing red. She goes and checks her phone to confirm the code. At this point I can feel myself sweating, I need to see this bathroom. “You ok?” I turn to my wife and check my forehead for sweat, “Yeah, it’s just a little warm outside for me right now.” It’s 53 degrees outside and I can't contain myself. “Oh I did use the wrong number, it was a four not a seven.” Three beeps and the lockbox pops open. She opens the front door and I hustle inside and ask for the bathroom’s location, “Turn left and it’s the second door down.” I walk down the hall and go to open the door, locked, fuck, why is this locked. I use my thumb nail and use it to twist the lock open from the outside of the knob like a screwdriver. I get the door unlocked with my thumb nail edge peeling and bleeding. Finally I walked in and was met with disappointment.
There's no carpet, no pink tile, no dripping, and one just shower faucet. “What’s wrong,” my wife asks. Seeing me stare over the brand new shower like I just watched my dog get run over. “Oh nothing, just looking at this nice tile they used on the renovation in here.” I hate this tile, I hate this shower, I hate this bathroom. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I can hear the sound of a faint water drop splashing on the floor in the back of my head, drip drip drip. I turn back to look at the shower, bone dry. Why am I hearing water drops falling?
We all gather back in the front foyer of the house and the realtor asks us what we think. I don’t have the heart to say I hate this house with a living passion. My wife says she “loves it, given it’s a bit newer and has some renovations and new floors done already.” I agree, given my issues don’t even seem sane to me nor should anyone but I know deep down in my gut I’m right. I feel so anxious knowing I can go back to the previous house and witness the glory of that shower again. I tell my wife, “You can go ahead and go home if you don’t want to look at the other house, I just wanted to see something. Maybe find something that gives us power to talk the price down some.” She smirks at me, “You're always trying to have projects to do,” she chuckles. “I’ll meet you at the house later. Let me know when you're done I might need you to grab something for supper.” “Ok will do, see you in a bit.” I walk with the realtor and she opens the door for me. I ask if I “can just lock the door when I'm done and you can go home for the evening given it’s getting a little late?” She agrees and starts walking to her car. “Send me a text when you lock it back please,” she shouts across the yard. I give her a thumbs up and make my way in. Drip.
The house is as stale feeling as before, I can already hear the angelic sounds of that water slashing on the pink tile. Drip drip drip. I walk to the bathroom, the sound of the water dripping gets louder and loud with each step. Drip drip. I open the door and there it is, heaven on earth, carpeted floors, pink tile, and the beautiful layout in the shower of faucets and drains; all playing a symphony of dripping water. This time it’s not so loud and more pleasant on the ears, if it was now tuned. I turned the water on for the first time. I've been waiting to hear what running water sounds like flowing out of all five faucets at once. I couldn’t be happier. I go to touch the water cautiously given that water has been painful to touch and overloading my senses. This water feels like nothing I’ve felt before, it’s insanely euphoric. As if an angel was holding my hand, the warm water going over my skin made me feel at peace with everything and think of nothing but the water and shower. I go ahead and strip down naked to get ready to walk into the shower, the steam hitting my body was acting as if it was cleaning it without using a towel or anything to scrub my body.
It’s been a minute since I was able to comfortably touch water so this feeling felt incredible. I went to start getting my body coated in water, the symphony had started and now the chorus was playing from the drains, the water causing them to not have the guttleral sound like you normally would hear but more like an everlasting stroke from a violin. I’ve never heard of something so beautiful before. I start focusing on the water temperature controller, honing in on it like a bird dog would pointing at a fowl. Something is telling me to make the water hotter, I give it a quarter turn. The water becomes hot in an instant, my pores feel like they opened up in such a different way like they never have before. After all the saunas, hot tubs, and just hot showers in general I’ve had, this was something holy to me now. I go to crouch and really immerse my body with all the water I can knee tucked in my chest, sitting, letting the hot water drench me further.
I don’t know how much the hot water tank has left in it but, I pray it doesn't ever stop, it’s been at least an hour since I stepped in. I go to lay back and relax further, this is bliss. The drops of water hitting my skin as the steam rolls out above the glass sliding door, the singing coming from the drains, the sirens in the Homers Odyssey trying to draw in sailors could match the music I’m listening to right now. I notice my skin feels very soft and stretchy similar to melting cheese, “this is weird” I think to myself but I’m not getting out of this oasis of a shower I’m having right now. I start to feel numb, I’m numb. I’m drowsily feeling, my leg and hair is completely gone as if I’ve been waxed. I notice the drains are clogging a little. I touch my face, I feel soft; unnaturally soft, similar to room temperature butter waiting to be thrown into a mixer. My heart races but my body is unable to move. I’m melting, how long have I been here? I see the window has fading daylight so it can't be too long. I try to sit up but my skin is glued to the back of the shower, skin deeply embedded into the grout.
I try harder and harder, I have to get out now. I feel my skin start to tear, the hot water hitting my now tearing flesh burns like a branding iron. I stopped from the unbearable pain, the water is roaring at me, screaming now. As if it doesn't want me to leave and turn the water off. I look forward and see my toenails falling off one by one. Blood mixing with the water pouring into the drains. The drain is starting to chew at my skin, seeping in the holes as if I’m being rendered down for cooking. I was finally able to raise my arm but knocked it on the glass door. The flesh on my arm fell off the bone like a slow smoked rib that sheds meat once it hits the plate. I am at the will of the shower now I realize; soaked, painless, and panicked. I am a fly in the venus fly trap, helpless to move while I melt inside its mouth, clenched by its jaws. I close my eyes and fade into sleep. No dream, no tossing and turning, just the roar of the drains and the chanting of rain drops on whatever is left of me. Drip.
Breaking news on channel four tonight, a missing man was last seen this evening after checking out a house for sale by himself. Police and investigators are clueless to know where the person of interest, Steven Williams, is. The only evidence the police have uncovered are the clothes he was last seen wearing, his phone, and clumps of hair in the bathroom of a running shower. Investigators have suspicions of trafficking. If anyone has any leads please inform the police. Now the weather, Julien.