I had now indents of branches all over my worn out legs. It was now morning and I had to keep going now, they would have already put two and two together and it didn't equal 4, it equaled me. I got up while letting out a painful groan. I walked about 4 miles to the nearest sceevy motel. The motel was one of those seedy places men with beer guts went to bang other men's wives with promises they couldn't afford to keep. Or else the hooker's brought their john's there and paid for rooms by the hour. Weeds grew through the cracks in the concrete path and the litter from cheap take-out meals were strewn across it. There were external wooden stairs that lead to a second floor, the second row of doors, that looked like the building inspector was either bribed to pass it or drunk on the job. There were at least two screaming matches going on in separate rooms, and the cars in the lot wouldn't have been out of place in a wrecker's yard. I waited in the lobby for some assistance, while I sat on a couch that was definitely not been cleaned in any way for a good amount of years I heard static sounds coming up from a small tv placed on a weak shelf near the reception.
"BREAKING NEWS! A woman about 5"4 is suspected of the murder of her boyfriend parker Williamson who has come to an unfortunate demise caused by presumably VX. A synthetic compound , VX is a nerve agent with the consistency of engine oil.
If anyone has seen this woman who will now appear on the screen please call 911 thank you."
A sudden wave of paranoia came over me but I blanketed it over with a smile. I got up and walked to the reception and went to the desk. Standing with one hand on my waist I signed myself in with the name Jessica Marley. For now, this is all I can do. Room 101, I grab the keys and skip while twisting my hair with my fingers and made my way to the room.
This will be fun.
Her emotions were not easily hidden on her innocent face. Her pain was evident in the crease of her lovely brow and the down-curve of her full lips. But her eyes, her eyes showed her soul. They were a deep pool of restless gold, an ocean of hopeless grief. if you into her eyes you knew, all the beauty of the universe could not even hope to compete with this simple thing: passion. Passion turned her eyes into orbs of the brightest fire, and in them, you could read clearly that she would fight to the very last year of her life. She would not let the world break her. Sure she could cry, but she would never let them take her true self from her. She clung to it with passion. A passion that made her beautiful.
I was laying on the sandpaper-like covers staring intently at the yellow stain on the ceiling. As I flipped to the side I was introduced and Surrounded by four white walls, there was nothing else to do but stare at them. To look at the paint that had started to chip off as time passed, or gouged by other prisoners - anything to pass time, slowly going mad, theorizing absurd meanings from the wall's blank stare. I had enough, I needed to get some fun i couldn't be cooped up here forever. I opened Up the wooden door again and left. There was a bar across the street and it seemed very low key, I crossed the lonesome street and I rested my hand on the rough paintwork that coats the door and push. Rough wooden splinters cut into my palm; shards of black paint crumble to the floor. The hinges squeal as though they are a warning, but their plea is silenced by a wall of noise. Laughter overpowers the jukebox. Conversations swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes hides within the collaboration of mephitic odors. A sharp smell of drink wafts towards me, like black plumes bellowing from the windows of a burning house. There's even a hint of sick tainting the fragrance of the room. That's when I heard a faint but noticeable sound.
