You could find the same room in thousands of hotels across the globe. An empty space where a flat screen tv would live;a mini fridge that should be filled with overpriced food, now just a little black box,a bathroom lacking tiny soap bottles , a closet and a bed with no sheets. But if you look close,the absence of hotel stuff isn't what's strange. Maybe it's the blood-soaked clothes laying throughout the bathroom or is it the duffle bag full of lethal weapons in the closet. However it could be the trail of muddy foot prints that lead to a pair of black combat boots that have been thrown under the bed after a long day. Above the pair of disregarded boots I lay silently on the bed. I lay there thinking about how just two weeks ago my life was close to perfect.
I was a month or two into my junior year of high school , which was going great. A year before that I landed a small modeling gig. By the middle of my sophomore year I signed with a major modeling agency. That summer my life was a little screwed up. People started giving me shit for coinciding with the world of the rich and famous, when I got body modifications, it was nothing huge. The hate didn't bother me, I was just happy that I was doing what I loved. But that was three weeks ago. Now I'm slowly falling to sleep dreaming about a world that no longer existed.
