And Who Knew?

Damn Magpies.

"What the actual hell!? . . ." A grand hotel stood in place of the rickety, old hotel that I once saw. One peculiar thing I noticed was each floor looked to be over ten feet tall. It had large windows displaying the bedrooms, some drawn closed.

"What . . . What the hell is this!? Hey, ma'am!" I called after the woman, but she was no where to be found. I glanced at the seventh card.

How the hell am I supposed to know what this means? Wait, I have Google for a reason.

Where's my phone?  I shoved my hand in my pocket to grasp my phone. I sighed in relief when I felt it. I pulled it out and hopped into my car. I chucked the cards at the seat, cursing not a second later when some of them fell out under the leather. It's going to be a pain in the ass to find all of them later. I fumbled with the keys putting them into ignition. Vrm! As I heard her rumble softly, I hastily went to Google and typed in "Seven, secret, told" to see my answer. I was in such a haze that I couldn't quite remember what the card said. It pulled up a few questions, like,

What does 7 for a secret never to be told mean?

How many secret sevens are there?

What is Seven Secret about?

The first one seemed like my safest bet.

Seven for a secret never to be told

On Wikipedia, a nursery rhyme called "One For Sorrow" popped up. I clicked on it.

One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.

And in the longer version . . .

Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,

Thirteen beware it's the devil himself.

. . .

And just what the hell was that supposed to mean?

I continued reading on Wikipedia. Apperently, it's centered around birds. Like crows and magpies, birds.

"Damn Magpies" I mumbled. I put the stick out of park and tried to drive my car out of the driveway.

Keyword.

Tried.

As soon as I was out of the parking lot, I found me driving back out of the parking lot. and again, as soon as my car went into the street, I was magically driving out of the parking lot once more. I tried once again, but the same thing happened. Like someone was replaying a tape over and over again.

Only then did I remember my wife. I regretted ever running away. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be in this predicament. 

"Damn bitch . . ." Why was I so angry? I paced around for a while, unsure of what to do.

Pacing. Pacing. Pacing.

"Is something the matter?" my head snapped up. It was that girl who told me I couldn't get in.

"Yes, I can't leave the fucking parking lot."

"Have you completed your reception?" Okay, I'm confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Have you went inside to complete the reception? Sir, do you have your card?"

"Card? . . ." I flinched. "But you said I couldn't go in!"

"That was until I found that you had a card. May I please take your card?"

"The seven one?"

"Hm?" She tilted her head. I sighed, open up my car door, and rummaged around until I found the black card with gold letters on it.

"Here" I thrust the card out. She plucked the card from my fingers and then went inside. I tried once again to drive out of the parking lot, but it didn't work. I tried walking away, but I just found myself slamming my head into my car door instead, as soon as my feet touched the street. I cursed and forced myself to wait. Finally, the girl with grey hair walked back outside and handed me my card, this time with a set of keys.

"Please enter room seven. You will have a roommate." 

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Please enter room seven. Room seven is your room. You will have a roommate."

"Uh . . ." I weighed my options. I didn't feel like walking around my perimeters, I was tired, cold, and hungry, I couldn't go home and I didn't want to go home.

"Alright, how much will it cost me?" I'd rather sleep outside then fork out my paycheck.

"It's free for the VIP access" Whew!

"Oh, sweet. I'm in." I walked toward the grand hotel. The old woman was back, glancing at her tarot cards. I saw "the tower" on the front of her hand. I froze.

That was the card she handed to me, why does she have it?

I scrambled back to my car, the grey haired girl standing there, dumbfounded. I unlocked my car and yanked the door open. 

The cards were gone.

I stomped my foot and slammed the car door shut. As I turned around, I bumped into the old woman.

"Don't read too much into it, dear. The cards always come back. I didn't touch your car." She said with a sweet smile. For the sake of her being old, I let it slide. I probably just left it unlocked. I ignored her and stomped off, but not before making sure it was locked. I stomped inside. The ceiling was just as tall as I imagined.

"Why is the ceiling so tall?" I asked.

"We get quite a few unique residents. Some of them simply don't like compressing. We value the comfort of our customers." Her voice was like a robot, flat and informational.

Okay, that's a bit weird . . .

I glanced around. Everything was shiny and smooth. At least it's free, and I'm definitely not complaining. The receptionist desk was made out of smooth mahogany with what looked like a gold outlining. A pretty glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, shining like diamonds. Comfy-looking  recliners circled a glass table, which held candies and fortune cookies. There was a bar a little farther down from the receptionist desk. 

"Room number seven is that way. Please make yourself at home." Shit, I forgot my bag. Whatever. My care isn't going anywhere any time soon. I went in the direction she was pointing at.

"Po, Po, Po, Po . . ." There was a sound emanating from the room  I put the key in the lock and turned, then peeked inside.

"Hm?" A girl looked at me, and she was over eight feet tall.