June 15: 2:30AM.
Hope sat up in bed again, her heart was racing, her hands shaking, and her forehead drenched in sweat. Getting out of her twisted sheets, she walked into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she stared at her reflection before drying off. A little bit of her light brown hair was wet, and water droplets stuck to her eyelashes, blurring the vision of her hazel eyes. Her pale skin emphasized the dark bags under her eyes. Chewing on her light pink lips, Hope grabbed a towel and wiped the water away. She put her hands on the counter in front of the sink, and took a deep breath. "You need sleep," she told herself, "big day tomorrow, big, very big, very important day."
Hope slid back into bed, her oversized flannel shirt keeping her warm. She closed her eyes, and tried to fall back asleep, but couldn't. There was a sound, albeit soft, It was the unmistakable strumming of a guitar. Who the hell plays guitar at this hour? She thought to herself. Picking up her phone and ignoring her many notifications, Hope saw her clock read 2:48AM.
"I'm about to tell that sucker off," she said, getting up and slipping on a pair of spandex she left on the chair in front of the vanity. Unable to find a room key in the dark, Hope decided on leaving the door opened with a door stopper, she stepped out onto the hallway, her bare footsteps quieted by the carpet. She could hear humming, and the guitar strumming. Anger boiled through her veins as she heard the guitar coming from around the corner.
"Listen here," she half-yelled as she walked down the corridor. "Tomorrow is the biggest day of my life, and I need sleep. I'm already having trouble, and your stupid guitar playing isn't making it any better. So can you please-"
Hope stopped for a second, staring at the person sitting on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed, barefoot, and a guitar on his lap. Everything she was ready to yell came to a halt and disappeared. She could only stare at the boy on the carpeted floor of her quiet hotel and 3AM.
"You're Luke Hemmings," she breathed.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Hope
Подростковая литература"I'm in the bedroom closet. I don't want to be found. Please don't look for me. I don't ever want to leave this closet ever again. People are mean, and scary, and they're not welcoming at all. I'm going to stay in this closet forever." She cried int...
