Masquerade

Part Three: The Overlook Motel

The sick feeling don't want to vanish, from experience I can say, that it gonna stick to me for the rest of this damn day.
At least the tremors ended, so it isn't obvious that something is wrong, I can hide it.
The city comes with every second closer and with it a live I don't want to ruin from the beginning,
it just don't look good if you come to a new city and you are jus a shaking nervous bundle.
"Five minutes, then we gonna arrive at the motel",
"Cant wait",
"You know, that I am truly sorry if I triggered it",
"Don't have to be, just happens".
He gets again his sad gaze.
"Kids never should have problem like this",
"We don't live in a paradise, at least not the mass of the people".
He only sighs, no backtalk or protest, what a surprise, perhaps he gave up.

"There is it",
in sight comes a surprisingly well maintained motel, fresh painted and with a neon sign.
Overlook Motel.
"Just drop me off here",
"Sorry, but I have to ensure, that you don't run away, so I have to come along".
I kinda suspected that, until I set foot in my new home, I am the problem of them,
so they try to make no mistakes.
As I exit the car, he watches every step I take, from unloading my stuff from the trunk to walking to the entrance, no moment without a bit off suspicion.
As I enter the small entry hall, I smell the scent of air refresher and furniture polish,
it looks a bit to clean.
The counter is manned by one employee, casual clothes, some jeans, a white shirt, but the head is shaved, only a thin layer of hair on it.

"Good day, I reserved a room",
the person at the counter just looks at him, than at me,
"Shit man, we are not this kind of motel".
I just have to chuckle, because his face turns into a damn deep shade of red.
"No, no, it isn't like this, it is only for her, her foster mum couldn't host her for the night today".
"Oh sorry, Sir, I couldn't know that, I hope I didn't offend you, I am truly sorry",
it surprises me, as the voice of the receptionist changes to this more bureaucratic tone, this kind one,
I wouldn't have expected this kind of speech from him.
"No, its okay, she just need a room and I can understand your concerns",
"I shouldn't have been so judgmental",
"Please, it isn't your fault, I just formulated it strange".

God, a war of apologies breaks out between them and for a moment I ask myself if I just should walk out of the door and come back later, but in this moment, the receptionist pulls out a key from under the desk.
"Should we?",
"Yeah, please show her the room, I have to go now, but a plead from me",
"Yes, what is it?",
"She had a hard day and is kind off a little escapist, but she must be here, when her new mom comes to pick her up, understand?",
"Yes sir, no problem".

The longer I walk through the hallways of the motel, the more I am surprised.
Everything is clean, maybe a little to clean, it look like it was build just a week before,
the paint on the walls is not even a little bleached, the door knobs polished.
"Kinda cleanly here",
"We have standards here and they aren't low as you see", his voice is now back to the cold and firm tone, no emotions in it,
"That's good I guess".
He doesn't try to take up on the conversation, just walking in front of me, my bag in his right hand, the room keys in his left.
After a bit we stand finally in front of a door, 316 is in silver written on the door.
The keys swiftly turn in the lock and the door swings open.
"This is your room, dinner is in ...",
he throws a quick view on his watch,
"One and a half our, don't be late",
"Not gonna be", I answer and with this he is on his way back.

I let myself fall onto the bed and inhale deep.
The windows has bars in front of it and I am in the third stock, so no way out from here.
Why do I even try to escape?
Perhaps my new foster parent is more understanding and nicer than the precursor.
I chuckle, I thought that every time and every time it only got worse, so why even try it again?
Slowly I rub my face, sometimes it feel like I cant even trust myself anymore, with every damn catastrophe that occur I lose more trust, either to myself or other people.
The Feds are the least trustworthy in this pyramid, even from the beginning on these were just suckers, acting like they would care, condolences and therapy.
Stepping in when it is already to late.
I feel my heartbeat getting faster, and cold sweat slowly running down my spine, not again this time.
I tighten the grip around my leg, driving the nails deep in the fabric of my jeans.
The pain takes the control and some sort of calmness arrives.
I let loose of my leg and the pain begins to leave my mind.
Before I think of anything else, I start my playlist and close my eyes.
"Breath in, breath out".
Slowly my whole body comes to rest, forgetting the whole shitshow of a day and slumbering away.

A knocking, my dad walks to the door, my mom sit besides me, what did we? A puzzle?
I look down on it, what a crazy one, it isn't a picture of an animal or a landscape, just a broken vase, a pretty one, I would be eager to have one like this.
"Hey, open the door, girl!",
someone is calling out to someone, but whom?
Is it my dads voice?
No, its someone else.
A clicking sound, my mom is suddenly shocked, she looks like she cried, another click, I don't understand, but she is no longer at my side, another click.
I wake up screaming, my heart pumping, I look around me, I sit on one the stools of the motel room, a meal stands on the table, my arm hurts a little.
I slowly lift it up, some serious bruises around the wrist area, I gasp, what happened?
"Ah, you are finally awake", I turn, the receptionist stands by the open window, smoking,
"What happened?",
"You didn't came at dinner time, so I thought you either fled, what would have been impressing or just forgot it, so I thought, bring her some food, the dude talked about her having a hard day, perhaps some kind of depressive".
"But why the bruises on my wrist?", he turns his face to me, a deep blue bump on his forehead,

"Because you sort of struggled, screamed and whined in your room and when I finally unlocked it, you attacked me in some kind of trans state".
Shit, a panic attack in the sleep.
"So I had to get you somehow to rest and immobilizing you seemed way better than knocking you out cold",
"Sorry for that", I draw a circle around my forehead, he just throw a hand,
"We are a fucking motel, there was worse", I silently nod, my hunger dominates and just want to eat now.

"By the way, why are there bars for the window in the third floor?",
"So you don't escape girl",
"Why is it so important for you? I mean they cant sue you for my escape",
"But if you go missing the Feds gonna flood the city and I get some big troubles",
"From the government? For what, letting a teenage Latina girl escape? A truly grim crime".
He looks at me like I asked the dumbest question in the world.
"Do you smoke?", he holds out a strange pack with strange lettering, he catches my glance,
"Its an import, don't worry", I grab one, he lights it.
I take one pull and have to cough, shit is this strong, he laughs in response,
"They called them Lungentorpedos where I came from, but back to my question, you don't know anything about this city, do you?".
The burn in my lungs finally decreases and I shake my head,
"I have no idea",
"Then get ready for some history".