Assistant manager- [M.S]

26

June 16.

Three knocks on my hotel door.

3:33 in the morning.

I couldn't have been given a more terrifying scenario.

I tried to shut my eyes and go back to sleep.

Maybe they had the wrong door and would realize when I didn't open it for them. Or maybe I was just hearing things.

Three more knocks and a cough this time.

At this point, I'm fucking shaking.

Am I supposed to open the door? Or do I wait it out while I hide under my bed sheets like a frightened little girl?

This feels like something out of a horror movie.
Three in the morning in a hotel room by myself.
For all I know, there could be a man dressed in black wearing a ski mask with an axe ready to chop off my limbs the second I open the door.

I quietly drag myself out of bed, trying to avoid any spots on the floor that could cause a creak.
The second my foot hits the ground, what do you know - it creaks, and there's three more knocks on the door.

My heart is beating so fast. All this adrenaline rising from me walking to my door, how exciting does that make me sound?

Look, I don't get out a ton, and it's three in the morning. Okay?

I tip-toe to the door, but it's probably not even necessary anymore. Whoever is out there knows I'm in here.

It's pitch black in my room, the only light leading me to the door is coming from my phone screen and that's not exactly working since my phone keeps automatically dimming the light on my screen every time I turn it up.

I look through the peep hole to try seeing who it is, but it's no use. Whoever it is, they stepped out of the way so all I see is an empty hallway.

Just open the door, Alyssa.

You've got your phone, and if you need to, one kick to the nuts should be able to help you out if necessary.

I finally open the door. My heart is beating out of my chest from fear.

His eyes are bloodshot red, his lips turning purple. He's as pale as a ghost and his head looks heavy. He doesn't even look like he can hold himself up.

He's dressed in all black, but there's no axe.

"I fucked up so bad."

I grab his hand and pull him in before someone can see him, although it's the middle of the night and I doubt anyone will be roaming the halls, but here he is doing just that, so I'd say it's possible.
He stumbles over his own feet while he tries to balance himself through each step.

"Matt..." I whisper, not wanting him to see how freaked out I am right now. "What did you do?"

I try to lead him to my bed so he can sit down and gather himself, but the second he reaches the mattress, he collapses on the bed.

His face is pressed against the sheets of my unmade bed, his body paralyzed as he starts to drift out of consciousness.

"Matt," I speak to him, but he is so out of it that I'm truly just wasting my breath. I try to push him onto his back so he can breathe and tell me what's going on, but his body is so limp and heavy that I'm visibly struggling.

He groans as I try to move him, not helping me in the slightest. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm here. I needed somewhere to go. I don't think I should be here though," his words pour out of him faster than I can comprehend.