Start Over
From Create Your Own Story
(Created page with '<font color=darkgreen>"How long do you plan on staying, Rayne?" <font color=black> I look Sylvia, the head of the hotel management, directly in the eye. Inside my stomach churns…')
Current revision as of 19:14, 24 April 2014
"How long do you plan on staying, Rayne?"
I look Sylvia, the head of the hotel management, directly in the eye. Inside my stomach churns I hate lying, but it comes so naturally; it's as if every lie that I've ever told, some part of me believes it to be true.
Easily I say, "Only for a few months. Three or four at the most. I just need some time to get back up on my feet." I smile.
My insides feel grotesque. Fearing the excuses I will have to make when she begins to suspect that I don't actually plan on leaving so soon, a suspicion that proves true. I'm running away. I'm running away from my parents who have always expected more out of their academically gifted daughter. I'm running away from my 17 year old sister, Rosalie, who thinks I need to better evaluate my decisions before I make them. What does she know? She's seventeen! I'm running away from the drugs that have caused me to lose almost sixty pounds this past year, at least I think I am. And lastly, I'm running away from Trent, my abusive ex-boyfriend of six years who first introduced me to the wonderful world of crystal meth.
Sylvia interrupts my thoughts, "So the rent for this room is $350/month. It has a full running bathroom and kitchen. The living room is your bedroom, much like a studio apartment. The space is small, sure, but you won't find another room in this hotel much bigger than this for less than $750. And as we discussed before, that in not in your price range."" Sylvia smiles defiantly and then leaves the room with a final,"Good luck and happy living!"
I gaze around my new apartment. My surprisingly comfortable futon sits in one corner with a small television set and radio in front of it. The kitchen is small, but efficient. The bathroom has no tub, only a shower. I can't complain, at the age of 23, I finally have a place to call my own.
I consider what to do next.
Do you:
