Kyushu

The banging started shortly after midnight; a heavy, steady tempo that did not match the pounding bass of the rap song on the radio. The participants in the beer-pong tournament took their time noticing the sound, the game being long and sufficiently sudsy. When at last some notice of the sound occurred, the players shrugged it off. Obviously the RA in the apartment above them was stamping around as usual; it was nothing new.
The tournament ended sometime around four, and as the three blitzed roommates proceeded to gather up the empties and the remnants of the tournament, they realized the pounding sound had either started again or never ended. The radio was off, and they could not decide where the sound was coming from. The RA was a straight-laced Napoleon; there was no way he’d be up at 4:00 am. The oldest roommate, more buzzed than bombed, figured out that the sound was coming from the third bedroom. She went to the door, and upon finding it locked decided to pound on the door.
“Dina, for real now, shut the hell up. I thought you were asleep!” she managed to slur.
The pounding continued.
“Quit fucking your bedpost and open up!”
The pounding continued with what seemed to be renewed vigor.
Concerned enough to be aggravated, but not willing to make the drunken trip upstairs to fetch the RA, the roommate shrugged off the noise. “Come on, let’s just get this shit cleaned up and go to bed.” she declared to the two freshmen holding the bag of empties.
Perturbed but too smashed to care, the three cleaned up the living room and the kitchen to the best of their impaired ability and made to get ready for bed. Some time had passed between the round-up of the empties and the verbal assault on the third roommate’s door, but the others were not asleep. A good thing indeed, since the RA then chose to waltz in uninvited and unwelcome into the living room.
“Guys,” he began in his wheedling voice, “I tried to be lenient but the banging has got to stop. It’s been going on for hours and everyone in the building is really ticked off. Now who’s doing it?” he demanded, flabby face scraping desperately for some look of authority.
Pam, the tallest and oldest roommate in the living room, shook her head. “We have no idea what you’re talking about.” she managed, though the last few words were slurred.
“Have you been drinking?” the RA demanded, raising his voice on the last word; the volume of the pounding seemed to correspond with his agitation. “I’ve already written you guys up for this once before.” he scolded nasally.
The pounding picked up tempo, and all three roommates turned anxiously towards the bedroom hallway. “It’s coming out of Dina’s room.” Sara admitted sheepishly, despite Pam’s disgusted eye roll. Kristine remained quiet; she was still too far on the wrong side of wasted to risk speech.
The RA strolled down the hall as if he had some kind of authority. He knocked softly on the door; the taps were swallowed by the pounding coming from the other side. “I’m coming in!” he announced before trying the door handle. The door was locked. “This is Bill, your RA. Please stop the pounding and come out here.” he commanded.
The pounding did not grow any softer or come any more slowly. The RA sighed. “I’m not on call; I’m going to have to call someone.” he said officiously, cell-phone already in hand. There was no one left to call but the RD, so that’s what he did.
Meanwhile, the other three roommates waited anxiously outside the bedroom door. “The sound’s really driving me crazy!” Kristine whined, putting her hands over her ears. Pam shook her head.
“I don’t know what’s going on but it’s really pissing me off.” she growled, pounding on the door again. “DINA! SHUT-THE FUCK-UP!”
The pounding stopped.
“Finally!” Pam declared. “Fuck Bill, I’m going to bed.” she stumbled further down the hallway and managed to make it inside her room while only rebounding off the door frame twice. The room was dark, a fact that only dimly registered on Pam’s mind. She went over to her computer to see if anyone had bothered to IM her while she was away; she’d only taken a couple of steps when she realized the floor was wet and tacky. “The hell?” she muttered, turning around and reaching out for the light switch by the doorway.
Meanwhile, the RA and the RD were now standing before the third bedroom door, staring stupidly at it and conversing with each other in very serious voices over what to do since the key didn’t seem to be working.
“Guys, there’s something wrong with my room.” Pam called out, fingers still fumbling for the light. Kristine and Sara edged past the RA and the RD to perhaps hide behind Pam the fact that they were unsteady. Bill the RA and the RD went straight for the breaker box and proceeded to plunge the entire apartment into darkness. There was a tremendous thump and Bill hastily flipped the breakers back on. The light in Pam’s room came on and Kristine screamed.
Hanging halfway through the wall was roommate number three; the quiet, unassuming, and straight-edged Dina. At least, that was the assumption. Her head, identified only by the crown of gleaming copper hair, had somehow busted through two panels of drywall and a support stud. There was a pile of raw hamburger where once a human face had been; bits of skin and other bits clung to the jagged hole her head had come through. Blood still dripped in a slow steady pace onto the dresser she’d popped in above.
“Oh shit, somebody pull the emergency cord…” Bill breathed, face pale and chubby hands trembling. “SOMEBODY PULL THE FUCKING RAPE CORD!” he screamed.

The cops had to take the door off its hinges to get into the third bedroom. Dina was still in there, kneeling on the bed with her head through the wall. No one could figure out how the hell she had done it. The surgeon on autopsy declared it impossible; eventually she should have knocked herself unconscious. There should’ve been more trauma to the skull; there should’ve been this and that. It was assumed that some kind of attack had happened, but the window to her room was locked and the grill over it untouched. The “emergency cord” over the bed was untouched; there was no possible explanation for why or even how Dina could have put or had her head put through the wall.
That didn’t stop the doctors and the police from classifying it a suicide; with no evidence otherwise they had no choice. Whatever it was, it sure as hell was no accident. Dina’s mother came down from Tennessee to collect the body, and that was the last that was to be mentioned of Dina in the third room. Unfortunately for Pam, Sara, and Kristine, Dina didn’t like that idea.