Howling Hours

Chapter Five: Exhausted

 Sophie's key had been returned to her. She had quietly thanked him, wanting to keep a conversation going, but she felt like she couldn't do it, she didn't have the social energy. So after thanking him, she stepped away, and walked towards the Denn room reserved for her.

She left Leo there in the front entrance. She didn't look back so she didn't see the pained look that was left on his face. Her heart had dropped to her toes, and his had did the same.

Once she made it to her room, she took in her surroundings. A single bed, and old TV. The bed had a comforter of a dark green color, and the cabin vibes continued from the entrance. One window remained at the end of the room, the blinds already shut. While the need to check the locks was still prevalent in her mind. She just. Didn't have the energy.

She sunk to her bottom, sitting on the short carpet, her back leaning against the door. She rested her head on it, gripping her necklace tightly. She shut her eyes tightly.

Leo did the same. Stormy gray eyes flashed in his eyes, while she saw gold.

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When she awoke from her 'nap' at the front of her room she felt appalled. Sophie didn't know what had came over her, she ditched the only man she had felt attracted to since she was a tween, reeling in the lobby. Which was crime enough. However it was the fact that she hadn't checked any doors or windows when she entered the room.

Immediately she jumped to her feet, hitting herself in the head with a closed fist, mumbling about how incredibly stupid she was. She locked the door with both the latch and the other lock, checking both before dashing over to the closed windows. Thankful to find them already locked, but she double checked. 

Last she walked into the average sized bathroom, closing the door before making sure that door locked as well. She tapped her chest as she left the bathroom, melting into the bed. She tried to push away the thoughts of self loathing and self anger. Trying to think of anything else.

The bed for instance. Sure, the bed, it was hard, sure, but also soft. Softer than the regular dingy motel beds. For that she was thankful.

Glancing around she noticed a beachside picture on the tan wall, it was dark while the time on the alarm on the bedside table read 5:04, she yet to bother turning the lights on, she liked the dark anyways. Her eyes next found the phone next to the bed.

Nervously, she sat up, and reached for the phone. Dialing one of the two numbers she had ever remembered.

"Hello," A cheery voice exclaimed, a giggle in the background, "this is Bea! I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I promise I'll get back to you!"

It was all she had left of her sister. A voicemail. She felt pathetic calling it, knowing she wouldn't answer. But sometimes she'll spend an hour dialing this number, over and over again. Even though she knew nobody would hear it ring. 'Boyfriend' by Justin Beiber wouldn't fill any ears. Sophie had her own ringtone, everyone in Bea's phone did. She had kept the phone much to her therapists dislike. She kept it in one of her garbage bags, just so if she needed to call it, the number would always be Bea's. 

She wanted to cry, God, she always wanted to cry, about her sister, about her family, or about something. Usually the tears would come, but right now she just felt. Empty.

With the emotion not seeping from her, she instead willed herself to dial the other number.

Ring.Ring.

"Hello, who is this?" An aging voice answered.

"Hi Aunt Marge.. It's me."

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