Wayfaring Traveler

five

「 For Morgan Romenesko, thank you for the lovely character name 」

f i v e

She stayed for nearly a week, her taking the bed and I taking the couch. There were nights that she would toss and turn, unable to sleep although showing signs of being tired with significant bags under her eyes. There were two nights she woke up hysterically screaming, myself having to repeatedly tell her that she would be okay in order for her to calm down.

On the sixth night, she was even more vulnerable than the rest of the nights, she stayed awake with heavy breaths, every hour causing more restlessness.

By two in the morning I too was restless and tired, however, I couldn't possibly sleep so I spoke, bidding farewell to the silent treatment where I would pretend I didn't notice her restlessness.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked out in the air, blackness shrouding us.

Her rustling ceased and her breaths lingered in the air, she sat herself up and faced me, the moonlight peeking through cheap blinds lighting her up.

"Ezra, what's wrong with me?" she asked, adding, "I feel an insane amount of guilt because of how everything transpired. I can't sleep, I don't want to eat, and I'm constantly crying."

I reached over to the room's desk with a lamp, flickering the yellow light on to see her eyes puffy and the purple bruise along her cheekbone courtesy of her abusive ex.

"I haven't been to work in a week," she finished with, the worst part to me.

Herself being the owner's daughter meant she was able to work around her work schedule, herself calling her dad after the Vince situation and requesting an indefinite amount of time off.

Work the past week had been treacherous, absolutely horrible and boring. The week's forecast of cloudy skies made the days long, Seattle's sun, Francesca, not present to enlighten the café.

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're just being human. Now, what can I do for you so that you will finally sleep?" I said simply, afraid to say more and have her feel hesitant and trapped.

She hesitated before replying, "My dad used to fetch me a bowl of my favorite cereal, Froot Loops, whenever I had a bad dream, it's ridiculous really but it would make me so very content and put a smile on my face."

I nodded and grabbed my jacket from the desk chair and the room card.

"Ezra, you really don't have to."

"But, I want to," I replied.

She gave me a small smile and mouthed a 'thank you.'

I headed out the door and made sure she locked it behind me. I walked away from the motel, on a quest to find the closest open grocery store or gas station store.

After roughly five minutes of walking, I came across a gas station with a convenient store. I walked in, an assortment of people also making a late night run into the store. I found my way to the cereal and milk area, running into a girl with a large blush colored faux fur coat and sunglasses with the lightest pink tinting on my way to the cash register.