MOTEL CHILD (Haunted)

Missing

Lilly visited me every day since, as I believe she was finding much boredom with her mother down at the hotel they were staying in. They had moved out from the sheriff's office, as they weren't entirely invited to stay there as long as they wanted. Lilly became a companion for me; her wide, sunshine smile and willing to throw a hug around me slowly pulled me out of my shell. I had given her the key that I had placed around my neck, as I had a spare that I kept in the sneaker I always wore.

We had fun nights together for the last past three days. The house on the hill became a mockery to us; we would sit on the front porch, drinking pop, and taunting it. I remember Lilly turned to me on such an occasion and said, "What if someone really is listening?" I told her if anyone was, it was the owner. I began liking Lilly because I felt comfortable around her. She wasn't the type of girl I felt compelled to slam my mythology book whenever she entered the room in fear of her making fun of me, instead, she would beg me to read a section and then surprise me with her knowledge...no matter how little she knew.

Last night, we sat on the front porch of the Bates Motel, her head in my lap, her blonde hair pulled in a sloppy side pony tail, and the back of her hand resting on my chest. I think we had grown some sort of fondness towards one another, as every night or quiet moment we'd trade a secret part of ourselves to one another. I had difficulties explaining myself, as words have always been a battle for me. But Lilly listened and assured me that it was all right if I stuttered or stammered off into silence. She talked more than I did, but talked about the important things in life. Such as, life after death, relationships with parents, her "stupid" fears and worries; she told me things that sounded like I was the first to hear.

With her head on my lap, a book in my hand, I couldn't feel more at peace. She talked sometimes, but it became a calming sound to my ears, just adding to the tranquility. At last, she spoke in question. "Oliver, what if you just left? You know, this motel."

I sniggered, "I don't have a car."

"Use mine," she offered.

"Your mom would hate me," I added right after with a laugh.

She turned over onto her raised elbows and looked up at me. "Why is your mother gone so much? Do you ever wonder?"

I shrugged. My mom had always left to go somewhere, and I soon realized that questioning her was useless...she would never tell me the truth anyway. "Sometimes, but she's done it so many times that I don't bother asking. She'll come back, though."

"But aren't you a little suspicious?" she pried, bringing up the questions and speculations I had made awhile back.

I closed the book and placed it beside me. Looking down at her, I scrambled around the mazes of my mind, wondering where to start. When I had found the first few words, I began slowly, "I've suspected a lot of things. I wondered why my mom wanted the money and why she wants so much time to file papers and stuff, and, well, she hasn't phoned since our last one a couple of days ago, and the last time she visited me, she left hurriedly. And before that, there was a strange car that pulled up at the house, and I know someone was in there when my mom came by-,"

"So, what you're thinking?" Lilly pulled her feet under her body and sat beside me, her shoulder leaning against mine.

"I think," I looked out at the dark horizon, "my mom's still in love with my father. She came back to claim the motel as well as take the money out from underneath your mother. She's going to use that money to pay for my father's health. I think, but I wouldn't be surprised if that's what she's doing."

"Do you ever want to meet your father?" she asked in a voice not meant to startle me.

"I'm curious about him, in fact, I meant to clean-up this motel, but I've only managed to fix the fixtures and clean the floors, but...but yeah, I want to meet him." At that, we heard the rumbling of a car engine in the distance.

"What's that?" Lilly gasped, clinging onto me.

"It must be the owner. I saw a car pull into the back last night, she or he must be leaving."

"Why didn't we call the sheriff?" Lilly said as we both got up to our feet.

"Do you think they'd come over here after all these years? They've got bigger things to worry about." I took her inside and latched the door. I stood beside her, keeping my eyes on the car passing by.

"You forgot your book," she trembled.

"It's okay; I just want to know what the driver looks like," I replied. Knowing it would be impossible to see the driver from our distance and in this shade of night. I hated myself for not bringing a camera. "I don't think I'll be able to see him unless he leaves a track or something behind."

"I can follow him," Lilly suggested. "I'll wait ten minutes and then follow the car. I'll just watch where he goes from one of the cabins closer to the road?" she looked at me, begging for permission.

Seeing no other way, and didn't see anything wrong with it, I said, "All right, but once you get a good look, you come straight back okay?"

"Maybe I shouldn't. What if he has a gun, or gets nervous that I'm following? Do those people in the house know we live here? They must!"

"I'm sure they do? Yeah, I'm sure," I guaranteed. "For all that driver knows, you could be going out and getting food. Just pull off a different road or something once you get enough information. Or pass the car."

Lilly nodded her head, finalization our decision. Though, right after, I began thinking it was a bad idea. In fact, I should have denied the whole thing but she slipped out the front door and made it to her car. I knew I should have stopped her, but I figured there would be no other way to find out who the driver was. I stood inside, looking out the window now and then to see when she would leave and, when doing so, I saw the light inside the house turn off.

My back straightened. My nerves jumped. It didn't hit me that there could be more than one person living in the house. I had always believed there was one person who played the part as the mysterious driver and owner inside the house. I swung open the door to catch Lilly, but I was blinded by her headlights. Covering my eyes, I shrunk back and waited until the yellow beams faced the street. Not knowing what do, I watched pathetically as her car shrunk in the distance.

Taking in a deep breath, I turned to go back inside when I remembered my book. I bent down, my fingers ready to grab the hard object when instead my fingers found the wooden porch. Thinking it had scooted a few inches away from its original spot, I moved my hand around. Growing in irritation, I looked down and saw that the book wasn't there. My heart palpitated and I looked around the base of the porch and inside the house and still, the book was nowhere to be found.

As I stood in front of the reception desk, straining my memory, I was shaken with a chilling realization. In slow, robotic motions, my eyes fell onto the top window of the house. It was lit the last time I saw it. Now, it was completely dark.