A mere three days have passed since Ethan moved into Silverstone Apartment, Room 216, to get away from everyone he knew, especially his family. Ethan was a freelance writer who wrote for magazines and websites or whoever required his expertise and got by really well in doing so. The room itself wasn't anything fancy and the rent wasn't high for a fully furnished flat. Ethan didn't have to bring many things except for clothes and his work table, and within a day he already settled in comfortably in his new place.
He woke up one morning with a start. His body was drenched in sweat that also dampened his bedsheet. The bedroom felt stuffy and he could hardly breathe. As a habit, the first thing he checked when he woke up from a deep sleep was the time. There was a digital clock on the small table beside the bed, the set of numbers and letters shown on it indicates that it was still too early in the morning the sun hasn't come out yet. Ethan got up to his feet, and he felt like his feet are going to give in on his own weight. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, his head was throbbing violently. He was almost sure it was only because of the lack of air. There was no air conditioner in the bedroom, only a big fan spinning lazily on the ceiling. Again he got up slowly, pushing himself up with his hands, then using the wall for support Ethan headed for the window. He yanked the curtains aside and tried to lift the window open, but it was to no avail. No matter how hard he tried it was still stuck in its place. Mustering the little strength he has, Ethan swore under his breath and went out of the bedroom into the deserted living room.
He had a dream last night, though he couldn't remember too well about it. He remembered only a fragment of images rushing through his mind, yet he couldn't make sure of anything out of it. The dream, though, seems real. As if it wasn't a dream at all, as if it actually happened before and he simply forgot all about it.
Ethan was back in the living room when the phone rang. He wondered who that was. Nobody knows where he is, not his relatives nor anyone he ever knew. Even if they're trying to reach him, they wouldn't know where he would be. Ethan was wondering if it was the superintendent, wanted to remind him of the payment's due date. Just in time, Ethan thought, he was going to complain about the jammed window. Ethan remembered that he opened the windows in the bedroom and living room to air the entire flat the previous morning, so he knew full well that it suddenly got jammed only this morning. He hasn't tried to open up the living room window today, though, he got time for that later.
Ethan picked up the receiver and spoke. He didn't get any response from the other side. He tried again, and there was still silence. Then he heard it, the sounds of heavy breathing and loud banging over the phone. It was followed by the sound of a door opening up with a violent creak and not long after there was a gasp and then a shattering scream. An agonizing scream as if someone's being tortured. The scream ended abruptly along with the sound of a closing door.
In shock, Ethan's grip on the receiver began to wane and it came crashing down onto the floor. He stared at the cracked receiver long enough to get his bearings back. Was it a prank?
Ethan completely forgot about the windows and the stale air that surrounded him. He forgot about his cryptic dream and everything else. If what happened on the phone was a prank, it's not a funny one. Somehow it terrified him, it gave him chills deep into his bones.
He grabbed a glass from the kitchen and went to the sink to pour himself some tap water, but when he turned it on, no water came out of it. He knew there's nothing in the refrigerator so he didn't bother to check. A jammed window, the water didn't work, what did he expect from a cheap apartment?
He decided to once again try to air the room. He walked into the living room window, and terror crept inside him when he found out that it was also jammed. Violently he tried to pry the window open, digging his nails into the wood, but the window was persistent. He tried the other window on the left, only to meet with the same result. Ethan ran across the room, into the front door, and slide the locks open. When he twisted the knob, though, it stayed in its place refusing to move even an inch. He started to panic, his vision went blurry. His mind raced with the thought of every possible outcome, being trapped in a room with a limited supply of air. He scanned around the room for something hard enough to be used to shatter the window. He could worry about compensations later, one thing he should focus on is to reach for someone outside.