Bathroom Scene The Shining Novels & Stories

“You deserve to hear it! And for goodness’ sake, can you please take a shower? You smell like—” “Fine!” Hara interrupted, her patience wearing thin. Pushing the blanket aside, she grabbed a towel from the hook on the door and trudged into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her. The bathroom was a quaint space with vintage tiles, their faded patterns adding a touch of old-world charm. The rhythmic sound of water hitting the tiles created a soothing backdrop. Hara closed her eyes and let the warm water cascade down her body. Suddenly, a vision flashed in her mind, sending shivers of shock through her. She snapped her eyes open, scanning the bathroom with increasing panic.

Impossible to see our thrusting contact, secondary sex characteristics and my all-important twisting face. “I’m going to be late,” he hissed. “Move your foot.” The tub squeaked beneath me. Janet Leigh’s shower scene popped into my head. A layer of knowledge beneath the surface of the story tells me they stabbed melons to make the sound of her being knifed. And that she stayed in the shower for too long: she soaped herself, rinsed, then lingered for no other reason than the sensual enjoyment of water, the caressing of her wet self. Ain’t that always the way? Woman gets punished for her pleasure.

She’s in the bathroom. I walk toward it and find her submerged in the bathtub. The sight of her, immersed in the water, strikes me like a living painting of cold and distant beauty. Soft steam rises from the surface, blending with the dim light of aromatic candles strategically placed around the bathroom. The air inside is warm, filled with the scent of lavender and incense, creating an atmosphere of serenity, but also isolation. The shadows of the flames dance on the walls, casting ethereal shapes that seem to emphasize the emotional distance between us.

June It’s happening again. Much to my delight, of course. This time, it’s vivid… so vivid. The place is unfamiliar but familiar. It's dreamlike and drenched in warmth. It's a bathroom, but not just any bathroom. It’s exquisite and classy. The kind you see in five-star hotel ads with gold fixtures and walls that gleam. And I’m under the shower. Naked as hot water slides down my skin like silk. But I don’t see him.

“X, can I use your bathroom for a shower? its bean a long day and I desperately need a clean-up.” “Sure, you don’t need my permission to use the bathroom Ny” I chuckled at her silliness She smiled and nods. She moved toward the bathroom, loosening her hair as she went. A spill of dark curls framed her shoulders, and I swallowed. “I’ll be right back,” she said before closing the door. The water started running. I tried to sit. Tried to breathe. Tried to think. But through the frosted glass of the bathroom door—lit by the warm yellow light—I saw her silhouette.

This has been working for some time now. I begin with watching my hair with my hair shampoo, reveling in the sweet sensation of the water cascading down my body and once all the lather has been washed from my hair, I snap my eyes open and I’m met with very familiar dark brown ones. That’s when I realize that I’m no longer alone in the bathroom. I scream in terror as I lean against the wall, trying in vain to hide my nakedness with my hands just like I did in the hallway a few days ago. Maddy is flashing me her signature evil smile.

The same hums she was use as lullably when i was a baby. Something drew me closer to the bathroom, i was not sure what it was but it was deadly. So deadly that it knew was was afront and even though i was at the pane of the door and my feet were numb, i turned the knob, opening the door more than it already was. My being was still. My breath seized. My brain stopped functioning. It was like there was blinding lights causing a shift in Matrix. My mother was in the shower. It was a blur because she was using the hot shower, so the shower glass that she was in was translucent, although i could still recognize the female body anywhere.

I remembered the man from the crime scene, and just thinking about him sends chills down my spine. I heard the doorknob of my bathroom twist and pull open as the light flitted. I shuddered in horror as I tried to hide behind my shower curtain, attempting to decipher the intruder's next move. I can hear heavy footsteps approaching the shower area. The ominous clink of a sharp blade against the bathroom wall is beginning to frighten me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I closed my eyes and covered my mouth firmly with my shaking hands, clinging to the hope not to make any noise from my controlled sobs.

I search the medicine cabinet, for the pain reliever, and find it easier to swallow the water. The bathroom is as neutral as you can get. It has white walls, a small sink, and a closed in shower. I really want a shower but that would need to come later. I stare at myself in the mirror, for what felt like hours, and try to remember something. I want to remember anything; my age, name, where I am. I can not.

I stumbled into the bathroom, turned the shower on, twisting the knob all the way to cold. I stood under it, letting the freezing water wash over me, trying to cleanse away the images, the sounds, the sickening, thrilling arousal. The water ran down my body, stinging my skin, but it did little to relieve the turmoil inside me. My mind replayed the scene: Alec’s face, contorted in pleasure, then that cold, knowing smirk as he watched me. The woman’s desperate moans. The wet, rhythmic sounds. My own shameful response. I stayed under the spray until my teeth started chattering.