Wash and BeWEAR

It was another freezing Thursday in Ottawa. February was always cold but today seemed to be exceptionally colder than normal. Michelle was used to doing her laundry every Thursday in the little Laundromat just three blocks from her third floor apartment. Her boyfriend Roger worked nights until they could finally afford their own washer and drier. He didn’t get off work until 11pm every night, so Michelle had to get used to spending her evenings alone in their apartment. After another cheap dinner she could barely afford, Michelle bundled herself up in her winter jacket, gathered this week’s dirty laundry and headed out the door.

She cleared the snow off of her little beige Buick and got inside. The car always took two tries to start (yet again another reason Roger had to work nights so they could afford a better car to go with a washer and drier). Her hands felt frozen and she regretted not taking her gloves when she left. She jimmied her key in the ignition a second time and off she went.

A light snow just started falling and the quiet streets seemed so peaceful. It was a small, unsupervised Laundromat and Michelle was surprised to not see Tina there tonight. Tina was always there on Thursdays, just like Michelle. Not thinking much of it, she took her clothes out of her basket and placed them in one of the washers. She was alone in the Laundromat tonight so she couldn’t make awkward small talk with anyone (not that she could be bothered with that anyways). She waited for her clothes, sat down in one of the chairs and took out the book she was reading. Six minutes passed and in walked a stranger. Michelle had never seen this man before, which was odd, as she always knew the usual people who went to this Laundromat. He was very tall, and had dark olive skin and long, dirty brown hair. He was wearing ripped jeans and a black leather jacket that matched his almost black eyes. He stared at Michelle not saying a word. Michelle immediately felt uneasy and she noticed he didn’t have any laundry with him. In her mind she asked herself, “Who comes to a Laundromat with no laundry?” He walked slowly towards her and smiled. Not that it was a sinister looking smile, because it wasn’t at all but Michelle got up trying to act nonchalantly so he wouldn’t notice her sweat-pouring forehead or racing heartbeat. She dropped her book on the floor without even noticing and grabbed her clothes from the washer, throwing them in her basket. They were sopping wet. She was sure she had probably left a few articles of clothing on the way out as she went from a brisk walk to a literal jaunt to her car, but she didn’t care. Her hands were shaking as she took her cars keys from her pocket and got in her car, immediately locking her doors. The man was still inside the Laundromat then he picked her book off the floor and walked slowly outside towards her car. Michelle couldn’t see him coming because her car was covered in a light layer of snow, which she had no time to clear off. She relentlessly jimmied her key in the ignition and of course, this would be the time her car wouldn’t start. Just like every classic horror movie. She sat there panicking as her car refused to start and terrible thoughts filled her head. She hated Roger for taking the night shift and making her go by herself to the Laundromat every Thursday. She hated the fact that he dropped out of school to “find himself” a.k.a work full-time making minimum wage for the rest of his life. She hated the fact that she had to put their wedding on hold until they could afford a washer and drier. She hated the fact that she drove a piece of crap Buick that would never start. She hated the fact that she knew something bad would happen.

Her eyes filled with tears, as she feared that the man was approaching her car. The shotgun seat was literally soaking wet from the clothes, which were almost frozen by now. Two minutes passed and she was still in her car, not knowing if the man was still there or had left. He approached her car, took his hand and slowly wiped off the snow on her car window. He pressed his face to the glass and his black eyes pierced right through her. She felt paralyzed. She could not move. He then showed her through the window, the book she had dropped inside and gave her a menacing wink.

11:17 pm and Roger returned home. He always walked to and from work. He took off his coat and boots, grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and turned on the TV. He called out to Michelle to tell her the news but heard no answer. He figured she must have already gone to bed. He would have to wait until morning to tell her about his promotion and that they would be able to afford a washer and drier in a couple of months. Even though he proposed two years ago, he could also afford an actual ring for her by March. He watched TV for an hour, and then headed to bed. He rolled over and felt nothing.

Roger shot up from the bed and panicked. He frantically called out to her but heard no response. He called her parents apologetically for waking them up, but they had no idea where she could be. He called her cellphone and heard a noise from her bedside table. She had forgotten her cellphone. Still in his pajamas, Roger threw on his coat and boots and ran out the door. He noticed the car was not parked outside their apartment building and immediately became furious with himself for never noticing in the first place. He realized it was Thursday, which meant laundry day. It was 40 below freezing, yet he was sweating as he frantically ran towards the Laundromat. He fell to the ground, partly out of breath, partly out of what he was visualizing in front of him - Michelle’s book in the red-stained snow.