Haunted Stalls

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Sam's Club. A big warehouse with excessively large sized food products? That, my friend, is the setting of this story.

I was still in my cheesestick years, aka a noodle-armed, pale, puffy-haired nerd. My parents decided to take me to Sam's Club to get free samples. After only a slight panic attack, from my fear of getting arrested for taking two samples of Gogurt, instead of one. (That's a story in itself..) I needed to use the restroom. My mom told me to go by myself, and meet her in the candy isle when I was done.

I'd like to point out that this was my first time going into a store bathroom alone.

I walked in, chose a stall, got down to business, whatever. I also had my DS out and was very caught up in a game of Super Mario bros. (It's called multitasking, okay!)

After Mario died for the eighth time, I heard something... Strange.

It sounded like a little kid. Whispering. I thought "No, no. There's no kid in here, the door didn't open. It's just frustration from my game." but I wasn't sure.

"Hello?"

I slammed my DS shut. There was someone- or something - in this Sam's Club bathroom. First thought: Ghost.

I went silent, hoping the spirit would copy me, and let me finish doing my business.

"Are you there? Come play!"

At that point, I was considering dialing every phone number until I found the number for the Ghost Busters. (Which I did, until I got to the third Asian tech support hotline.)

"C'mon. Play with me! It'll be fun!"

I finished up, and bolted out of the stall. I burst into every stall, looking for bloody handprints or glow in the dark ghost goo. I didn't find any of that, but in the last stall, I found something weirder.

A little boy, about four years old, sitting in the toilet. Criss-cross-applesauce inside the toilet bowl. He just splashed his hand around in the water like nothing was wrong.

"So it was you!" I asked him, watching the kid play in the toilet water.

"Why aren't you wearing pants?" He responded. I looked down.

My grey yoga pants weren't where they were supposed to be. You know, on my legs. I had somehow managed to slip my tennis shoes out of my pants in order to run out of the stall.

I was standing there in a store bathroom, with my junior's size Hello Kitty underwear.

I think the workers I brought the kid to were a little with my pants-escaping abilities.

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