Anybody Out There?

Unlocking the hotel room door I felt relieved to finally have both feet planted firmly on the ground after a long and tiring flight with full cabins throughout the aeroplane. The inviting long hot shower which I always looked forward to at the end of my flights awaits and it's the first thing on my mind as I opened my suitcase and fished out my toiletries and PJs.

It was one of the many identical rooms this huge hotel has by the hundreds. The same hotel the crew would always stay at during our stopover in London. As the main destination we, as Bangkok based cabin crew, always fly to is London, unless there's a shortage of crew, we do not venture onto other routes beside London Heathrow. So this is the only hotel we get to check into. The only excitement I have to look forward is which wing and which floor my allocated room is.

It took me a good hour to get settled into bed, armed with my teddy bear and a packet of potato chips, I slid in between the fluffy duvet and switched on the TV as I was so tired I couldn't be bothered to feed myself a proper meal. The curtains in the room were drawn, all lights were off except for the bathroom light which I always leave on so I wouldn't trip and break my neck and the like as I fondle my way with heavily groggy eyes to relieve myself. As a result, the bathroom door was opened by just a crack, just enough for faint illumination. Naturally it didn't take long for me to drop off into my infamous comatose sleep (I'd be out for at least 24 hrs undisturbed even by the ringing of the phone from my crew friends - this causes them serious worry at times).

The rustling of the security chains on the door aroused me and I jerked my eyes open. With only seconds to react my immediate response was to vocally warn my intruder.

"Hey! This is my room!" I bellowed. "You can't come in!"

Too late. The uninvited visitor has already flung open the door and entered the privacy of my space. Then a thought struck me at lightning speed. The security chains! I've never failed to slide them in over the years out of habit when residing in hotel rooms and I hadn't forgotten about them earlier that I'm positive of. So how had she unlatched it?!!

A tall Arabian woman, clad in the traditional black robe from head to toe, swiftly walked to the foot of my bed and stood starring at me. Anger burned in those unveiled eyes and I heard her cursing a thunderous mumble in a tongue foreign to my ears. I tried to yell at her to get out but nothing escaped through my lips. Gripped by horror I struggled to get out of bed and found that I couldn't move my limbs. It felt like I was bound to my bed by unseen chains. My legs and arms felt cold and rigid as I tried my damnedest to kick at the duvet.

In the midst of all that commotion the faint memory of the bathroom light tugged at me. Yes, I remember now. I'd left the bathroom light on. How come I couldn't see any illumination at all? Yet I knew she was in full view of me even in that darkness.

As I fought to get a glimpse of the bathroom light it suddenly dawned on me that the apparition in front of me may not be a mortal being. I immediately wished that I had taken the time to learn some of the prayers my mum regularly recites before her bedtime. The fact that I'm not as religious as the rest of my family didn't prevent me from hollering the Buddhist prayers despite getting the verses mixed up and some words mispronounced or completely omitted from the failure to recall them through sheer fright. It didn't matter as long as I kept spitting out the sacred words.

With an abrupt jerk I bolted upright in bed. The hairs on my head, neck and arms stood on ends as a strange chill pulsed through me from head to toe.

"Sh*t!" I cursed. "What the heck...."

At the end of my bed to the right corner of the entrance, the faint beam of the bathroom light stung my frightened eyes.