I tossed my stack of loose, unprofessional papers onto Mrs. Stadwell's desk. I call it, my lousy article.
My professor looked up from the novel she was reading and sifted through the papers, her eyes narrowed in thought. "What's this?"
"My piece on that dumb hotel," I sighed, slumping down in a chair across from her. I held my head and my hands and mumbled, "It sucks. It's so boring. I tried to find something interesting about that place, but it was impossible."
Mrs. Stadwell lifted an eyebrow. "A haunted hotel in the middle of Hollywood wasn't interesting enough for you?"
"It's not haunted!" I exclaimed. "God, why does everyone think that?"
"Because it's true, Jade!" she shot back, chuckling at my frustration. "So. Telk me. How did writing an article proving it's not haunted go for you?"
"Not well. I wasn't in there long enough," I said, my foot tapping on the floor impatiently. I looked around the empty classroom as Mrs. Stadwell skimmed through my work. It was 3:00 on a Tuesday afternoon. The whole journalism building was practically vacant.
"Maybe I should go back there," I thought outloud, shaking my head. I was not proud of the work I had produced at all, and what sucked the most was the fact that I had seemed so confident going into this a few days earlier. "Only one tour around the building wasn't enough time."
Mrs. Stadwell slowly looked up and met my gaze across the table. Her faded green eyes stared at me immensely. "...You're serious about this now, aren't you?"
"Well...yeah. You gave me an assignment and I want to get it done," I replied. "Denise, this is literally all I want to do with my life. I know I'm being a grouch about this hotel but the fact that I can go back there, find out some more information, and then write an exceptional article is already beyond me. I just want to write."
Sitting back in her squeaky leather chair, my teacher crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. "I appreciate that, Jade. You're the only one in this class who has actually showed interest in it."
"Just give me some more time. I'll write a better one," I insisted. "I'll go back to that hotel, get a room, and then -"
Suddenly Mrs. Stadwell sat up straight, her eyes wide with alarm. "Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said, waving her hands around as if to swat my words out of the air. "No way. You are not checking in there."
I leaned back and frowned. "Why not?"
"Because! Did you not learn about what happens in that place?" she asked me. "You can wander around all you want, but if you check in then you disappear. Poof, gone. Just like that."
"Oh come on, Denise," I groaned, annoyed that she wasn't completely on board with me. "If that was really how it went down, then the hotel would've been shut down years ago. But they never find any proof. Its all just a huge coincidence. It won't happen to me."
"I don't care. I don't want you doing it," Mrs. Stadwell said sternly, shaking her head. "You can go back there, hang around the lobby, walk through the halls, whatever. But you are not checking in. You hear me?"
Frustrated I was, but I didn't let it get the best of me. "...Alright, fine," I finally sighed, collecting my papers back from her. They were an embarrassment, anyways. "I won't check in."
"Good," she said. "Then I'm excited to see what else you find."
"Yeah...I'll let you know how it goes," I stood up and grabbed my bag, feeling as though I've been in this defeated situation one too many times before. "Sorry for disturbing you."
