Name That Tune

A young woman has to face the music

"Riiiide, Sally, ride!" Debbie sang, massaging the shampoo into her hair.

This was her favorite part of the morning. She always groaned about getting up, pulling the blanket over her head in a mini tantrum, even when Walter wasn't there to laugh at her theatrics. By the time she grumbled her way to the kettle she had at least one eye open wide enough to check her cup for a teabag. A few minutes later, she would take the streaming drink into the bathroom, and turn on the radio...

"Pour some sugar on meeee!" She smiled as lathered up her loofah, every pore relaxing.

"...In the name of lov"— Debbie paused, cocking her head and pressing pause. "Walter...? Is that you?"

There was no response, but she felt strangely unnerved. She had heard what sounded like a kitchen chair moving on the floor. She tried to shake off the feeling, and she pressed play again.

The music played for about thirty seconds; then it cut off. "Oh, what the hell?!" Debbie reached out to tap it when it let out a noise—a series of noises, like snatches of static and sounds from different radio stations. She drew her hand back, surprised and frightened.

This is a ghost box! she thought. What in the—

dEBbIE

As the iPhone-turned-jukebox crackled out her name, the water stopped. The faucets didn't turn; it just stopped.

DEbBie!

Debbie's hands flew to her mouth.

DebBBiEdeBbIEdEBBiEdebBIE!!

The water turned back on, painfully hot. The toilet flushed; the lights flickered.

The cackling radio stopped and the lights went out completely. There wasn't a single sound in the entire house.

@-----@-----@

When Walter came home, he found a broken smartphone shattered across the stove, electronic shrapnel strewn everywhere. And one kitchen chair was pushed up against the back door.

Word Count: 300