meant to be yours | d.w

19

"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theatre, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder"

I adore glimmering floors. The slick ground that looks like it would be perfect for ice skating. As vain as it sounds, it can be pleasant to review your own reflection by merely staring down.

The room felt mustier as I sat in it, collecting all the more dust onto my skirt. Concrete floors replaced what I secretly wished were gold. Blinds with stains imprinted on them hung over the windows like a shield with bullet holes in the middle. Sitting in this lobby was excruciating, and not because I was tired. Hell, I'm not exhausted in the least bit.

I am wide awake, and not nearly close to shutting down into the trance that is slumber. There is nothing I want to do more than abandon this chair that's nearly crumbling to pieces and make a run for it. I need to do anything but stay here, or I might just go mad.

Scanning the area for any possible safe haven, I saw none. That is, unless you count the scraggly looking man at the front desk. My only company.

Darry's figuring out the arrangements for our rooms, so he told us to stay put. But not one person truly listened. At that moment, all I needed to do what sit down as the boys went on their escapades, but plans change. My ideology's shift quicker than the wind itself.

The desire to have my own fun deepened with time.

Now, it should be me and the other boys here but like I said, they're on their own little adventure. Two Bit and Johnny went to try and knick the free shampoo bottles (Johnny knew it would fail but he agreed anyways), Soda and Steve are apparently ding dong ditching the rooms. That'll sure make us popular here. And of course, Darry was sorting out the entire mess of a handful of teenagers bursting into a tiny scuffed up hotel at twelve in the morning, and he brought Ponyboy along with him.

That left me and Dallas to fend for ourselves. Doing the rational thing, he left without much words to say to me.

So now there's just me, sitting in this chair that is destined to fall apart at any given moment, smoking a cigarette in the hotel lobby at twelve am. It's funny what life comes to, isn't it?

Originally, this chair was my idealistic way to spend time but as time droned on with not another soul making an appearance, I decided I needed to do something other than simply sit here.

The only problem was the shortage of things to do in this small ass motel. I couldn't go to the room I was staying in, for Steve and Johnny weren't anywhere in sight. That left the only other pathetic option I had left.

Exploring the damn bathroom.

Was it a boring idea? Oh, one hundred percent. But the options were limited here, and who knows, maybe someone left behind a spare diamond in there whilst parting ways. Perhaps Lesley gore, or some famous actor was taking a pit stop on their own road trip.

News flash, none of those actions took place in the bathroom infested with grime. Rebecca stayed slouched against the bare wall, allowing smoke to fill the room, and her lungs included. For once in her life, she wished to hear Soda and Steve' blasting shrieks. But not even the shuffle of room service could be heard, only the faint, but rough sound of shitty air conditioning.

It felt more like a hot fan against her dry skin. There must have been a malfunction, for it feels to be more of a heater than air conditioner.

The bathroom was a bust. However she didn't have much high expectations in the first place. But, that doesn't mean that there isn't a single thing left to do. Maybe they have a lounge with little candies in glass bowls that will break your teeth into pieces. Or those silly games they put out for children while the parents sign some type of document that gives up a portion of their money. Parents liked to call it: "getting a good deal."