My bag is nowhere to be found, my heart sinking as I wonder if this is a two-way mirror or even just a simple window. On the other side and inside the other room I spy two poorly packed duffel bags, a wet gray bikini on the carpet, and a plastic tiara.
I can't help but wince as I stare at the classic cut bikini resting between the front door of the room and the open bathroom, the soggy and sand-covered steel grey material soaking the already terribly damaged carpet with seawater.
Sitting beneath the identically ill-proportioned bed sits two duffel bags, one black and well-worn after years of use while the other primrose pink bag appears either brand new immaculately maintained. Both are open, their contents slightly spilling out in clumps of clothing. The black bag spews forth tangled jean legs and a tight shirt with long sleeves in a mangled mess of blue denim and black cotton, bundled pairs of socks straining to be free after being haphazardly shoved into the duffel bag. From the pink bag a pair of clingy grey tights, a white drop shoulder broderie top, and a long red ribbon can be seen snaking their way to freedom ahead of a few sets of various ballet flats.
Glancing around the room, unable to quell my curiosity, I notice a shimmering object laying beside the head of the bed on the floor. A cheap plastic tiara sits atop a large new smartphone, both of which vibrating every few seconds as the latter is bombarded with notifications. The tiara is dotted with dozens of clear plastic gemstones, a cheap gag gift or maybe something for a celebration or party.
As I keep staring into the room I watch as someone shifts in the corner of my vision, causing me to jump with a start. Someone else was in the room, scrunched up in the one corner of the shower that had even a modicum of privacy from the room at large. However, as the rising wisps of steam suddenly dissipate I watch as a young woman around the age of eighteen or nineteen minces out into view.
The slender young woman is only a few inches shorter than me, leaving her at around six feet tall and towering over most other women. Despite her imposing stature her dark wet hair clings to her all the way down to her pert toned behind, the shimmering dripping locks appearing to be almost black though their ends giving away the fact they are just an incredibly dark brown.
She is downright gorgeous, from her slender jawline and delicate chin to soft kissable kips and her large blue eyes that anyone could become lost in. Her posture is impeccable with her head held high, her small delicate strides across the cold tiled floor appearing so graceful it was more like she was gliding just over the surface.
Her frame is thin but certainly not lanky, with barely an ounce of unnecessary body fat beneath her almost perfectly clear skin. Toned feminine muscles are on full display as she prances over to fetch a towel, though they always appear subdued and leave her with a delicate appearing physique. The only real showing of her musculature comes from her legs flexing and revealing the powerful calves and thighs of a dancer as she races to her warm fluffy prize.
With each of her quick steps her chest bounces only ever so slightly, her practiced stride keeping her generous chest from bouncing too much. Her breasts are delightfully perky, the large mounds of fat being a little more than a handful and throwing off her otherwise streamlined portfolio. Unsupported they sag only ever so slightly, the firm muscle hidden beneath her chest holding them rather firmly in place, with each tapering up slightly with a large harden pink nipple resting on the end with a tiny pair of areolas.
I watch on as she wraps a towel around her chest, the short piece of fluffy fabric struggling to cover both her rack and her slight almost non-existent hips. She mouths something slightly, either not speaking or the sound failing to reach me, her bony fingers fiddling with the immense mass of air clinging to her back as she wrestles it off of her and over the first towel before pulling it tightly around herself.
My eyes become glued to her right arm and shoulder as she tugs at the towel, my eyebrow cocking as I stare in mild amazement. A series of tiny black moles dot her perfect pale complexion, the only subtle marring on her otherwise flawless skin, tracing a relatively constellation from the base of her neck over her shoulder and back before ending on her upper arm. Looking down at myself I unbutton my own shirt before sliding it off and staring down at my only little collection of dark marks with eerie fascination.
"Weird" I muse under my breath, my gaze locked unto the matching pattern in my skin.
Suddenly, I'm snapped from my befuddlement as I see sudden movement from beyond the mirror. With a jump I twist around in time to watch as the young woman hits the glass with her palm, leaving a wet imprint behind as she glares at me from the other side. She begins to shout, or at least appears to as her words simply fail to reach me through what I presume is a soundproofed wall, her hands alternating between fists and struggling to cover up her body with the towel to the best of her ability in her rage.
I can't help but flinch at the sight of the furious woman on the other side of the mirror, the dark-haired young woman evoking memories of my own mother screaming at me in my youth. In fact the resemblance is uncanny, her general body language appearing as though she had learned it directly from that plump old woman.
Shrinking away, standing there in just my sweaty pair of well-worn blue jeans, I glance over at the door leading to her room. As if mirroring my exact thought I watch out of the corner of my eyes as the young woman trudges out of the bathroom before racing over to the unlocked, albeit stuck, door connecting us.
Racing over towards the door myself I grab the antique brass knob, a slight static shock snapping out to my fingertips. As I hold the door I can feel something tugging from the other side, the strange feeling of a pull door being tugged successfully from the other side giving me pause. Without thinking I begin to pull back on the door, attempting to hold it shut without even a second thought to how the door was meant to open.
With every passing second the pressure on the door builds and builds, the solid piece of chestnut wood flexing slightly as I'm forced to pull harder and harder to fight the other side. Suddenly, I find myself staggering backward as the door swings open with a deafening crack. For a second I'm dazed as I land heavily onto the practically rock-solid aging carpet beneath me, the mixture of the impact and the loud noise knocking the sense out of me.
As I try to scramble to my senses my eyes become locked to the impossible image of the doorway connecting the two rooms. The door lays open, somehow resting inwards in both of our rooms at once. I'm forced to blink rapidly at the sight, rubbing my eyes in disbelief as I stare at the door and the way it rests on the frame in an impossible manner. The frame itself appears exactly the same, however, the mirrored doors both connect to the exact same hinge with their edges touching and blending together.
I'm snapped back to the more pressing issues in my situation as I watch the young woman leap back to her feet effortlessly, her hair now a complete mess as she storms over to me like some sort of specter from a Japanese horror movie.
Again she says something, her lips moving with no sound reaching me despite her only being a few feet away. My lack of response only appears to infuriate her more, causing her to stomp her way through the threshold between our rooms.
For a second the anger drains from her face, her furious reddened cheeks shifting to a sickly pale as she staggers in the doorway. It looks as though she had just been through the most nauseating of roller-coasters, the world around her roiling as she finishes her stride on now unsteady legs and hunched posture.
After taking a second to compose herself, her slouched dainty shoulders returning to their proud bearing, she glares back down at me. Growling at me her voice drips with a mixture of fury and nausea, her words needing deep breathes between them as she tries to fight back the urge to vomit.
"You...fucking pervert..."
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