The Jacobs Hotel (Haunted)

7: Picture

Michelle woke up the next day with Adam lying next to her. He was immaculate, she thought as a streak of sunlight melted onto his half naked body, as beautiful as a work of art. She didn’t know how long she was staring at him before she realised he was looking at her.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account” said Adam with a smirk, Michelle reached for a pillow and hit him in the face.

“I was just noticing how grotesque you look” she said playfully.

“We’ll see about that” Adam said grabbing the pillow and hitting her back, then reaching for her sides and tickling her. Michelle squealed and tried to escape from his grip when the doorbell rang.

“Wait there” Michelle warned “I’ll be back.”

She wrapped the duvet cover around her like a dressing gown and tiptoed out of the room. When Michelle answered the door, she was surprised to see Kestrel standing there, her giant eyes darting around her nervously.  

“Kestrel! What are you doing here?”

Kestrel said in such a low voice, she was almost inaudible “you have my satchel. I need it and you weren’t in college this morning.”

Michelle felt the blood rise into her cheeks. She felt bad about this, but she had so much going on. Plus she had stayed up late with Adam, college was the last thing on her mind. “I know, I’m sorry. My mum went into hospital last night, I guess I just forgot.”

Kestrel nodded her head to show she understood. “I also wanted to make sure you were okay. I nearly didn’t come. This hotel…I can feel the spirits…repelling me, like a magnet.”

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Michelle said ignoring the comment about the hotel.

“I can’t see you in the stars anymore. There’s a negative energy, it’s blocking you from my vision like a shadow.”

Michelle rolled her eyes “I’ll go and get your satchel.”

After a few minutes Michelle came back from the kitchen with the purple satchel in her hand, as she passed it over to Kestrel a white piece of paper fell out of one of the pockets. Michelle bent down to pick it up and was astounded by what she saw.

“Did you draw this?”

It was a picture of Michelle drawn in pencil, a complete replica of her face to her shoulders.

"Yes, I draw things after I dream about them to help me remember.”

“Michelle, who’s at the door?” Adam’s voice appeared from the stairs behind her.

“Oh, just my friend from college. Kestrel this is…” but as Michelle turned back around she saw the ginger hair flaying out behind her as she ran up the road, satchel in tow.

Adam raised an eyebrow and wrapped his arms around Michelle as they watched the girl disappear around the corner. “what’s up with her?”

“Oh, I don’t know...She always does that” said Michelle. She chose not to tell Adam about the things Kestrel had said about the evil spirits and negative energy. She didn’t want to scare him off by thinking she believed in such stupid things. She scrunched up the drawing she still held in her hand and shoved it into her back pocket.

“Now where were we?” she smiled.

The following day Michelle went to the hospital to visit her mother. Adam had insisted on coming with her but Michelle said it might be better if he waited at home. She hated being away from him, but knew her and her mother needed some time, just the two of them. On the way there she stopped at the local newsagents. She walked over to the newspaper and rifled through the choices before she found the Lakeside Times. She flicked through it, scanning each page for the picture of her and her mother. She was determined to find the image and see if it matched up with the drawing that Kestrel had drawn of her. She found herself looking through it for a second time but she still couldn’t find the article.

Going up to the shopkeeper who was putting out the cigarettes behind the counter, she asked politely “excuse me; you don’t happen to have any back issues of this paper, do you?”

“No, we always send them back. Sorry” the man replied. He was a friendly looking man, with thick glasses and a bald head.

“Damn.” Said Michelle, now how was she going to prove that Kestrel was just a phoney?

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” asked the man.

Michelle sighed “I don’t suppose you know if there was an article about two women who bought the old Roosevelt hotel, in any of these papers do you? The girl was me and the woman had a bandana around her head, if that rings any bells.”

“No, it doesn’t” the man frowned “I’ve read every issue of the Lakeside Times since nineteen sixty-eight, so you can take my word on that one. Also the paper wouldn’t publish an article without your permission first.”

The colour drained from Michelle’s face and the newspaper dropped out of her hand as a million different thoughts entered her mind; Kestrel was telling the truth, she really did dream about me…and Adam…he lied about the article. But why?