Meet me at 1 AM

Chapter 2

I woke up with a hell of a headache. When I looked at my phone, I realized that I was almost late for work. Faster than I was used to, I washed and dressed before disappearing into the cool dawn.

My toes froze as I waited for the bus in front of our rundown apartment block. I really had to get some new shoes. They wouldn't last the winter.

I sighed when I finally saw the bus on the horizon. It was only ten minutes until my shift at the motel was about to start, so I had to think of a good excuse not to get fired.

Sorry boss, I had been thinking all night about a guy I don't really even know.

Sorry boss, last night was the first night in a long time that I felt something other than the gaping emptiness in my heart.

Sorry boss, I'm not sorry. I hate this place and the filthy hands of the old men touching me every single day.

At least I could steal some of the money from the druggies as they lay passed out in their vomit.

Sorry boss, my bus was late. I'll stick with that.

***

My boss was watching some football game on his laptop when I came into his office to pick up the key for the rooms.

"One more time and you're gone. There are a lot of down-and-out brats outside who would love to have your spot."

I did not respond. His words didn't strike me. No nasty ones struck me anymore, not for a long time.

I felt nothing as his disgusting gaze flitted over my dirty clothes. I didn't even feel anything when he wrinkled his nose.

With a sigh, I left him behind and got to work. When I stepped into the first room, an abominable stench hit me. It was almost as if rats were rotting or vomit was lying in the blazing sun.

I tried to make the room halfway habitable before the guy came back. Maybe he was on his way to buy meth, which meant he had taken all his money with him.

Just as I was about to look under the mattress for some cash, I heard footsteps behind me. Before I could react, something cold pressed against my temple.

"Hands off my stuff," he snarled in a rough voice. He sounded really pissed. I let go of the mattress and it landed back in place with a thud.

Almost stunned, I realized that the cold thing I was feeling was a gun.

I snorted almost in amusement. The irony of fate.

"Are you going to kill me now?" I asked with a fake smile on my lips and turned around slowly, making no jerky movements.

When he noticed my amused expression, he looked almost irritated.

"Do you deserve to die?" He snorted but I could catch something like curiosity in his tone.

"Yes," I responded curtly. He lowered the gun and looked me up and down.

"Vivamus moriundum est." Let us live since we must die. What did he mean by that? "You're going to die young anyway, go."

Without another word, I packed my stuff and left the room. The adrenaline rush had shaken me awake and in a strange way, I felt more alive. It was almost as if I could see clearer.

***

With aching arms, I reached my apartment. My legs burned with every step. I just wanted to sleep, to let myself fall into the abyss of my subconscious. "Meet me tomorrow at 1 am."