I was disillusioned, and I was looking for another cheap thrill that would put food on my table when I found an advertisement on my younger brothers' school. The younger brother that I took care of, because everyone else was gone in our family, and no one else would take care of him.

"Janitor Position: $1000 a week, midnight shift. Please have experience in: Cleaning, Ignoring Questionable Noises, Avoiding Death".

It wasn't an odd request by all means, I had assumed it was a torture-house at night, or something else. The only reason I hadn't been taken by some of the growing killer, rape, or slaving groups was because, despite being a young, white, innocent-looking woman, my brother was a young, black, strong-looking boy. We protected each other, in that matter. He said I was his, and I said he was mine, when male-only or white-only groups came to town.

We both found it awkward, and avoided talking about how neither of us were Alabamian. Not that Alabama existed anymore.

So I accepted, was handed a list of things to do. Nothing too suspicious. Don't touch anyone or thing that moved, don't look them in the eyes, once you leave for the night don't come back under any circumstances; It sounded like a slavery or torture chamber. Not uncommon for buildings to be used for more than one thing. Was told I was expected to clean the floors, walls, desks, and doorways. Avoid touching or moving any chairs. Odd, but not really something I'd question, I planned to stay and work while I looked for better, more interesting ways to earn money. Like being a stunt double, or having a flamethrower, grenades, and knives shoved in my hands by the no-gun advocacy group and told that if I killed and came back alive I'd get a few thousand. All things I found interesting, even though the only reason I didn't have a gun in my name was because my brother put his name down.

Pretty simple, right?

Then, as I was there for the first night, the doors unlocking exactly at midnight, though there was no one around to unlock them, the person who hired me called.

"Hello?"

"Hey, hello!" An oddly familiar man's voice piped up, which was odd, it didn't sound familiar in-person, "Um, welcome to Juvenile Asylum! This is your first night, right?" I don't answer, which, oddly enough, felt like what I was meant to do, "... Right. Not very chatty. That's understandable. That's... good, actually. The school's actually haunted, and every janitor before you has, ah, "rules" for you to follow. Unlike the three I told you earlier, these are more... suggestions.... There's only seven, so I'll tell you one a night! Heh, they uh, aren't too important. The first is pretty simple, actually. Don't talk to them."

"Well that's not fucking creepy," I had said, glancing around the school, flickering lights not bothering me as I opened the janitor's closet and grabbed the cart so I could wipe down the halls. They had no machines, apparently, but they didn't have carpet, so that was fine.

"I'm glad you think so!" Phone guy said, missing the sarcasm or ignoring it, "Well, I uh, wish you luck! Hope you answer the phone tomorrow... Again, you only get paid at the end of each week, and you won't get paid at all if you don't work all seven nights."

At that, he hung up, and I wasn't phased. Whatever. Ghosts? Better than dykish feminists with brightly colored hair, at least. Not that I had any problem with any of those things... separately. It was just when they were used to describe a single person that I ran into issues with things. The sexist cunts, thinking one gender is better than another and pretending to advocate for rights when they're advocating male slavery.

I spent most of my time thinking- I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until the very end of the night, when the sky was at its' darkest, just before dawn. I frowned at the orangish-red liquid, before glancing up at where the showers were.

A man was humming, and the shower was running, white steam clouding out of the men's locker room.

I spent a few moments just standing there. I felt the impossibly dumb urge to call out, a simple 'Hello? Did you do this?' on the tip of my tongue, but all of my experience with horror movies stopped me. I glanced back at what looked like a puddle of tomato juice, which hadn't been there before, and looked back at the almost holy view of the white fog escaping the room in clouds, hanging low on the ground.

Had I not been bummed over my hard work ruined, every tile sparkling and shining with extremely reflective abilities beyond this one tile, it might have been enticing.

My mind was quiet, a single voice piping up in the calm emptiness to tell me not to interact with whoever was humming. I turned, put my janitor supplies away, and sprinted out of the building, running to my car, a dark blue Toyota Camry. I struggled with the door for a moment before flopping into my seat, speeding away.