Scot-Free

Tendrils of steam drifted upward as streams of hot water raced down her body in the small, square shower. She was busy rinsing any trace of stubble from her dad’s Schick razor so he wouldn’t know she’d used it, when she heard the bathroom door handle jiggle. Instantly tense, she watched the lock give way and the handle twist all the way to the right.

"Ha!” she thought to herself as he tried several times to push the door open without success. She’d learned via prior experiences that the lock was worthless against intruders. By jamming a heavy chair from the dining room at an angle under the doorknob, she'd barricaded the door. It almost surprised her that it worked. After a few hard shoves with no luck, he pulled the door shut again, and left her to shower in peace.

She had just lathered up with soap when suddenly the entire door was pushed straight into the bathroom, crashing against the sink. He had removed it from the hinges…a possibility she’d never even considered. 

Shock from being out-smarted was fused with fury and fear. Shoving the chair out of the way, he approached the shower door. She could see his face, distorted by the frosted plexiglass, reveling with perverse pleasure in his torture of her. He’d won again.

“Get OOOOOOUT!” she screamed at him over and over while desperately clinging to the shower door handle to keep it closed. It was slippery business. He was not only stronger, but also had the advantage of being dry. And not naked.

Traumatized that he could see even her smudgy outline through the door, she managed to hold him off for several long moments all while praying he’d give up and just leave.

Suddenly, the thin panel of clear plexiglass that ran along side the door fractured, and a long crack appeared. “Now you’ve done it! You’re going to be in SO MUCH TROUBLE when mom and dad get home!” She was almost glad it had happened. He broke the shower!  Finally she had proof, hard evidence of his behavior. Surely he'd be punished this time!

Distracted by the broken side-panel, her focus on the door momentarily lessened, and with one great yank, he suddenly pulled it away from her.

Cowering down in the corner in a futile attempt to conceal herself from him, hot tears of rage mixed with water spraying down on her. He just stood there without a word, raking his smug eyes back and forth across her body.  “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Get out of here!” she screamed endlessly, as the water gradually grew colder and colder.