Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Six: Reflection

I watch myself blink. Open and close. The reflection is seconds behind the actual feeling of my eyelids moving up and down.

The entire mirror is covered in steam except for the small circle where I ran my towel over the glass, wiping it away. My already dark hair almost looks black with the wetness, my curls hanging loosely with the weight. I feel water dripping down my neck since I barely bothered to dry my hair when stepping out of the shower, and shiver with the coldness of it against my skin.

My eyes look tired, the dark circles underneath blend in with the freckles on my upper cheeks and nose. I haven't slept properly in almost four days and it's certainly starting to show. The bluish-green tint of my pupils is extremely pronounced despite the usual dullness it tends to lean toward, normally being more of a gray color. I think it has something to do with the redness I rubbed into my eyes, irritated by the water of the shower. The colors always seem to become brighter with the contrast of red.

The shower felt nice. In fact, so nice that I stayed there trapped by the plastic curtain until the hot water ran out, only leaving when pushing the knob forward no longer warmed the temperature. I washed my hair three times, using the cheap hotel shampoo that despite smelling good did nothing to aid my tangled mess of curls. After standing under the shower head, water soaking my skin, I scrubbed the bar of soap into my body countless times, trying to scrub away my feelings of guilt along with it.

Now standing in front of the mirror, with a clean t-shirt and a face no longer smudged with two day old make-up, I feel a bit of relief. I sigh out, running the towel through my soaked hair in an attempt to squeeze out some of the moisture, rocking back on my heels as the air leaves my lungs.

Paradise Motel isn't anything close to actual paradise. There isn't a white sand beach, with salty water to swim in and fancy drinks that come in coconut shaped cups. It's clean though. The majority of it is anyways, and tonight it will do. Besides, it's far better than the shaky bus or a hard bench in a bus station in a random town.

The steam from my hot, extremely long shower swirls around above me, the fan not working the way it's intended to. I sigh out again, looking down at my toes. I've been standing in this bathroom for too long, staring at myself in the mirror for too long, thinking and being lost in my own head... for too long.

My toenails are painted a dark purple, shimmering in the bright light of the small space. I wiggle them as I watch the glitter catch the light and it makes me think of Laurel.

Earlier in the week, before I ran off, I was over at her house like most other days. She was lying on her bed, face toward the ceiling with her arms stretched out high above her, reading a Rolling Stone magazine and complaining about the title of some article. I was on the floor, sitting on top of a pillow, painting my toes with the shimmery purple nail polish. I remember there was music playing in the background. I can't remember the song now but I know if I heard it again my mind would go to that exact moment in her bedroom.

It was simple. It was what Laurel and I did best. When it was just me and her everything was easy, fun... it felt like nothing in the world could stop us. The problem is that it's never just her and I, it never has been.

Knock, knock, knock.

I jump slightly, the abrupt knocks pulling me out of my own thoughts, and look back into the mirror. My hair still wet, eyes still tired and my t-shirt still far too big.

"Greta," I hear Harry's voice through the door. "You're still alive, right?"

"Yeah," I respond quietly, pulling the towel up from the counter. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," he continues to talk with barrier of the door between us. "Figured I should at least ask... finding a dead body of a pretty girl in a hotel is far too overdone," he laughs. It's funny in a cruel way. I don't think too much about the messed up aspect of it though, my mind too focused on how he called me pretty again. "Listen, I don't mean to interrupt on your shower time, I'm sure it's quite lovely in there considering how long it's been."