The air was so thick with humidity that I could almost drink it. I wasn't sure what jostled me from the sleep that remained elusive due to the sweltering heat most of the night, but whatever it was, I was pissed at it. As my senses transitioned from my prior dream state to my begrudgingly awake state, I became aware that I was hearing something. It was the unmistakable staccato sound of knocking on glass. At first I thought it came from the window. The last three nights in this motel room had been nothing but a series of unfortunate events; Barely a trickle of water in the shower, a couple of mice made a buffet of my leftovers in my mini fridge, and earlier today the decrepit AC unit finally blew it's last sad puff of musty air. Hence the unbearable temperature the room had crept up to. I glanced at the large, red digital numbers on the clock. 3:34AM.

"You've got to be kidding me," I groaned into my hands as I wiped the sweat off my face. I looked to my right. A heavy curtain hung loosely on a broken rod exposing more than half of a large picture window. The moonlight had nearly completely waned, but the neon sign in the parking lot provided just enough illumination to allow me to see that there was no one out there. My brain fog was clearing more quickly now as an unsettling feeling started to seep in. If the knocking wasn't coming from the window, where was it coming from? I sat up and closed my eyes, naively believing that it would allow my hearing to work better. I strained to listen against the distant buzzing sound of the neon sign and the muffled music coming from the next room. The sound seemed to be coming from the bathroom. My mind swirled and scrambled to make sense of what was going on. I stood up, quietly slid my sweatpants over my boxer shorts and moved cautiously toward the bathroom. At that moment I wished that I would have taken up my neighbor's offer to buy a 'totally not stolen' gun because the only rational scenario I could come up with was that there must be an intruder in my bathroom. Probably a junkie that broke in and is rifling through my medicine cabinet for pills. I was about three strides away from the turning to look into the bathroom and confront this person when something caught my eye: The deadbolt was still on my door. No one could have broken in. The hairs were standing up on the back of my neck now. When another knock rang out I actually jumped. "Fuck!" I whispered. I shook my head and began willing myself to get it together. All I wanted to do was attempt to go back to sleep, but I wouldn't be able to until I figured out where the sound was coming from and ideally stopping it. In one swift movement I turned into the bathroom, flipped on the lights and ripped open the shower curtain, fully expecting to somehow find someone hiding there. But there was no one. I was then able to determine that the sound was coming from directly behind me. It was coming from the mirror. Every scary story involving mirrors I had ever heard came flooding into my brain all at once, and I was frozen. I didn't know what I was expecting to see when I turned around. All I knew is that every option that I could think of was bad. I gathered up all of my courage that was rapidly draining from my body, tried to regulate my breathing, and turned around to face the mirror.

There was nothing. Just my own pale wide-eyed reflection staring back at me. The sound stopped. I approached the vanity and whipped open the medicine cabinet; Nothing seemed out of place. I didn't understand it. I slowly leaned over the sink, the porcelain feeling cool against my bare stomach but startling me. To this day I don't know what possessed me to do what I did next. I held my breath, pressed my ear against the mirror, and knocked...