The Domino Effect

Part 5: Amelia Shepherd

Dreadful-(adjective) Causing or involving great suffering, fear, or unhappiness; extremely bad or serious.

Dear, dear reader. We have found ourselves here again. I thank you for joining me again today.

It's always a pleasure to tell this wild and twisty story to nice viewers like yourself. I hope you've enjoyed the story. I've enjoyed telling it though there are lots of loose ends.

Today's story brings us to New York City. The city that never sleeps. Cabs, lights, Broadway and dreams.

Well let's not exaggerate. This trip wasn't exactly glamorous. But it was a trip nonetheless and it was a chance to get away from home.

A woman with a bob haircut, brown hair that was neatly curled and bright blue eyes. She wore a pantsuit that was navy blue in color.

Her heels clicked on the acrylic floor of the hotel. The Baccarat Hotel. One of the nicest hotels in New York City.

"I need to check in, I pre booked my reservation." The brown haired woman said.

"Name?" The uninterested receptionist answered.

"Shepherd. Amelia Shepherd, Room 465." Amelia said quickly. You know that quick voice we speak in when we didn't totally hear someone's question so you have to take an educated guess on what they said.

"Here." The receptionist emotionless, slid her the room key. Amelia hoped it wasn't like the last one she stayed in.

You know reader, the room keys you argue with? The ones that no matter how much you swipe them in and out of the key pad they just do not respond. I hope you do. I think we have all had that experience once or twice.

Goodness, off topic again. I need to get a hold on that. I'm boring you. Back to Amelia and the key card she was just having given to her.

Amelia walked to the elevator. Keeping her eyes straight ahead as she stepped in. Amelia felt uneasy. Like a presence was there despite her being alone.

When the elevator finally stopped Amelia walked to her room. It was spacious enough for one individual and not much more.

The hotel phone rang causing Amelia to jump. You know reader the jump you do when you've been in silence so long that you think your soul left your body momentarily?

Exactly that was the jump Amelia Shepherd made when the phone rang.

"Yes?" Amelia's voice answered. It was that voice you make when you are trying to calm yourself down after your soul almost leaves your body.

"Is the room for Orwell?" A woman's voice with a slight lisp on the S asked.

"Um no- no this isn't. Wrong room." Amelia stuttered.

"My apologies." The woman's voice muttered in an embarrassed tone before hanging up.

Amelia stood in the hotel room for a moment just in a confused state as the dial tone played in her ear. She finally got tired of hearing it and hung up the phone.

Amelia sat on the bed and took her ankle boots off. Amelia walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. The city lights stared back at her. Mysterious and full of possibilities.

Reader, if you have ever been to New York City specifically Times Square you will know the lights all tell a story. Almost like they can reach out and speak to you.

Amelia felt that deep somewhere in her. Like the lights were speaking but she wasn't sure what they were saying to her. Like standing in a tunnel so the voice is muffled beyond recognization.

Amelia turned around suddenly as the door was met with a banging against it. Amelia cautiously walked to the peephole. She leaned up against the peephole as her line of vision was met with that of another man.

"Can I help you?" Amelia shakily said through the door.

"I'm looking for an Orwell. I was told this was their room." The voice said.

"Wrong room." Amelia stated in a monotone voice. Amelia was also confused. This was the second person in less than 2 hours who had confused her for someone named Orwell.

The un-identified person's footsteps could be heard walking away from her room. Amelia sat on the bed and pulled out the drawer beside the bed.

"An Incomplete History of Hotel Guests" The title of the book read in bold, gold letters.

Amelia flipped the book open and found the index.

A
B
C
D...... her fingers scanned each letter waiting for O.

Orwell........... Page 789.

Amelia sat in confusion. How many were there that it was that far back. Nonetheless she turned multiple pages at a time until she stopped.

Brian Orwell. 1947-2020.

He had died this year, so who were they possible looking for?

Thank you for joining me reader. This was a captivating chapter, was it not? I will join you again tomorrow. Until then.