Patrick McNulty

BATH TIME

by

Nicky Tannenbaum

Mary always hated bath time. The feeling of her wet hair on her shoulders to the shivering cold

while drying off. Of course she still had to bathe, there was no way getting around it.

Unfortunately for Mary, after her most recent birthday it was decided she's old enough to take a

bath alone. Sure, the pleasures of independence usually help a kid get through the more menial

tasks in life, but lately bathtime has been a lot worse. It started as a whisper, barely audible

amidst the steaming running water. Mary assumed it was the tv for the longest time, but the tv

stopped working about 2 days ago and it hasn't been fixed yet. To make matters worse the

whispering was getting louder. What started as a hiss masquerading as the 7 o'clock news has

become more of a croaking. Eventually, the croaking started forming words Mary could

understand

*Hel-ehllo* it got out after a few failed attempts.

Mary didn't exchange a nicety of her own.

"Hello" it repeated, much clearer

Marys tried telling her parents about it but they knew all too well her aversion to baths. For a

while she would just lie and say she took one, but after a few days her parents got a phone call

from her teacher regarding certain "hygiene issues". This time, trying to believe it was in her

head like the shapeless monsters she usually sees in her closet, Mary got ready for her bath.

After a bit of figuring out the knobs the perfect temperature was met. She slid into the water

cautiously, and as time crept on there was no sign of the uninvited greeting. A wave of relief

washed over Mary as the warm embrace of the bathtub surrounded her. Maybe bathtime wasn't

so bad she started to think. Bubbles began to amass, engulfing Mary. She felt almost ready to

go to bed. But there it was again.

"Hello" croaked the voice, this time not buffered by the running water nor the shower wall. It was

here. Two hands slid over her eyes from behind, a singular shaky breath blowing in the back of

her head. Mary jumped out of the bath, slipping in the process. Frantically she grabbed around

and took hold of the shower curtain, popping each ring off on her way down. Now dizzy, and

seeing a small pool of blood form beneath her weary head, Mary took notice of the fallen curtain

which was now rising up. Up and up it grew. The little girl couldn't even let out a squeak, let

alone a call for help. A wet, 6 fingered hand extended from the shower curtain veil and crept

ever so slightly to Mary. Maybe she hit her head harder than she thought. It squeezed her leg

and took her in. It belched "hello" once more to Mary before pulling the little girl deep beneath

the layer of bubbles resting on the once serene bath. In an instant Mary was gone