hotel suicide // 5sos au

10

I feel the ground from beneath me swallow me whole.

Literally.

I wasn't prepared as, out of nowhere, the ground I was crouched on now was a big hole of darkness and i'm now falling in it.

And as I do, I'd noticed, I wasn't particularly 'falling' in it.

I was in the midst of air, sure, but I wasn't falling.

You see, 'falling' would intail in the sense of being pushed down by gravity back to the ground, which is something that dosen't seem to be happening.

The most relatively close word I can use to describe my circumstance at this point would be that I was kind of hovering in air.

Maybe, hovering in darkness.
Yeah.

Not for long, though.

At first I see a small ball of light.

Then, I see hundreds if not thousands of small balls of illuminating yellow light.

I feel a force from the endless pit below me suck me in.

I end up falling ontop of a roof.

Graciously, I manage to roll onto the balcony that was conviniently right below the edge of the roof.

I seemed to be at a house.

A two storey house with a balcony I was currently sitting on.

I face back to a sliding door behind me.

I slide it open and walk in.

The house seemed empty.

It probably was.

But then I hear a small mummur of voices and audience laughing from the last room and I peek through the small crack through the door.

There was a recliner smack infront of a squared box-y TV, it was obviously turned on as you could see the illuminating light from the screen.

'It's either someones actually home or someone must have forgotten to turn it off' I thought to myself.

I ran my fingers through my now flat hair.

I padded down the staircase.

I was close to finishing the steps until I heard screaming coming from what seems to be either the kitchen on the far left or what seemed to be the hallway of doors a few steps to the right.

I heard rushed footsteps coming clear.

Soon enough I was faced with two figures.

A woman, a young boy.

But hold up.

They look awful familliar.

I watched intently as the young boy looked at the woman in fear, eyes glossy, face pale, he casted his eyes down.

She slapped him.

The sound echoed through the thin walls.

"It's all your fault" she spat, her voice laced in venom.

He hung his head down.

"If only you weren't such a pathetic son.... You only know how to drag down a person to the grave don't you? You were a mistake. I don't know why me and your father even bothered keeping you around"

He stayed silent, his eyes were closed.

He tried holding in his tears.

His lips trembled.

I recognized this boy.

He was the boy from the dining hall back in the hotel.

The young boy no older than 8 now looked older.

He looked 13.

But no younger than 12.

"I hate you" was all she said before she stomped up the stairs, 5 minutes later, trudging down the stairs with a luggage and a duffle bag in hand, a cigarette burned between her red lipstick stained lips.

She stacked the duffle bag ontop of her luggage, retracting the handle and taking out the cigarette with her now unoccupied right hand.

"I'm leaving. And don't bother trying to find me."

Those were her final words as she walked out the door, got into her car and drove off.

The young boy stood shocked as he witnessed the last person to have ever cared for him walk out the door never to return again.

I approach him.

I try touching him.

But my hand only passes through his shoulder.

I look at the grandfather clock that's started chiming signaling midnight's arrival.

The needle wasn't pointing to a 12, though.

It was pointing to an 0.

R-A-Y-D- 'O' .