Tyler Sinclair found himself doing laundry at 3 am on Monday. He'd come to the haunting realization that he didn't have clean underwear, and there was no way in hell he was going to work wearing dirty undergarments. Not when he was working with Amber, not when he was this close to getting a date with her. No...he had to be on his A-Game and that meant wearing a fresh pair of underoos to work. He was half asleep, frustrated that he didn't do his laundry on the empty Sunday that had just passed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and flashed a glare of annoyance at Brutus who continued to sniff his basket of dirty laundry.

"No...down boy. What's your deal? It's dirty underwear? Seriously what's wrong with you?"

Brutus's facial expression drooped and he answered with a low bark.

"Yeah, I know you're a dog and that means you're gross by default. Keep it down will ya? It's a crime to be awake this early."

He picked up the laundry basket and made his way to the front door, he turned around to Brutus before exiting, "I'll be back in ten. If I'm not back, call the cops because I'm probably dead."

Brutus gave another low bark and a nod of approval.

Tyler closed the door behind him, ensuring it was fully closed before making his way down the flight of stairs to the ground floor. He sighed, one that passed with the morning breeze. The apartment complex that surrounded him was deathly quiet. No televisions, no parents getting their kids ready for school, no adults making their morning coffee. Tyler Sinclair felt like the only living soul throughout all of Avris Heights.

He made his way across the complex, toward the laundry room at the other end. This was his number two complaint about living in the complex (number one went to the atrocious parking), he hated that the laundry room was so far from his apartment, and he didn't much care for leaving his clothes unattended for long periods of time. No, the residents of the complex weren't vulgar or spiteful, and the probability of them doing something weird wasn't very high...but it made him uncomfortable regardless.

He could see the flashing light of the laundry room up ahead, a lightbulb on the verge of flatlining. He saw the inside of the laundry room for about three seconds, and then there was darkness. It had been like this for three or four month's and he found it amusing that the bulb still worked. There was nothing peculiar about the light that flickered every few seconds, the buzzing it emitted as it struggled to stay on. All of that was normal.

It was the crying of a woman that froze him in his tracks.

It came from deep within the laundry room. He could see the rows of washers and dryers on the left wall and about half of the large table that sat at the room's center. He couldn't see the chairs or benches to the right, and that's where the woman was. Her sobs were high-pitched and loud. How did he not hear this from further back? How did the residents of the surrounding apartments not hear her? Her cries and sobs cut through the still and cold night, hanging in the sky with the clouds before fragmenting with the breeze.

His heart began to beat at a rapid pace. The hairs on his arm stood erect as though magnetized. A sharp exhale escaped through his shivering lips, one that he immediately suppressed, in fear that the woman would hear him. Tyler cautiously made his way towards the laundry room, the taps of his sandals competing with the woman's sobs. He leaned to his left to get a better view of the room and that's when he saw her.

She sat in one of the chairs, facing the far right corner of the room. Long and frenzied black hair, concealed every feature of her face. Tyler could see her pronounced elbows through her paper-thin skin. Her shoulder blades were prominent, through the raggedy shirt she wore. The flashing light made it difficult to identify anything about her, but she looked severely unhealthy and she almost looked dead.

Then the light went out, hurling the room into darkness. Her cries seemed louder than they were just a moment ago, each sob and sniffle causing him to wince. The light turned back on with a click and a snap. Her head hung lazily to the left, peering over her shoulder. He couldn't see her face through the long black hair. But he could feel her eyes on him, he knew that she was staring at him because she'd stopped crying.

A whimper escaped Tyler's lips, he shook his head frantically and turned around. I don't have to do laundry, he told himself. I'll just avoid Amber like she's the plague. He knew he still had a few pairs of boxers tucked deep within his underwear drawer, those would have to do. Sure, it would be embarrassing if he moved in a weird direction and someone saw him, but he could just wear a jacket to cover his waistline. Thank God for the winter season.

------------------

"So...you just turned around and left?"

Tyler's eyes widened as he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head.

"What if she needed help?" Bill asked with mild annoyance.

Tyler threw his hands up in defeat, "Oh knock it off, Bill! Don't you go guilt-tripping me for this! What if I went in there and she had a knife!? She just turns around and prison shanks me? Beyond that what if she was a ghost??"

Bill rolled his eyes as he realigned the video game cartridges before him, "Tyler, you're un-fucking-believable you know that? You watch too many horror movies."

"Well, who the hell cries in a laundry room alone? Ghosts of dead girls, or crazy crackheads.”

"I've been to your apartment, there aren’t any crackheads hanging out in the laundry room. You're a moron."

"I am not. You go do laundry at three in the morning and deal with flickering lights and a crying woman." Tyler snapped.

Bill's eyes narrowed as he shook his head in frustration, "It could have been some girl who just broke up with her asshole boyfriend! You have no idea what she really looked like because of the lights and your stupid imagination! You could have finally got your dick su-"

"That's enough! It was either a ghost or a crackhead with a knife!! I'm calling it!"