Inside Out

Four

I wake up, stretching my arms and legs, and look over at the clock. Half past eleven AM. I decided that I need to get up and go out to look for a new place. Or at least start looking.

My feet swing off the bed and I stand to walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I walk across the icy tile over to the shower, turning the silver handle to hot and wait for the water to warm up.

The water reaches that point where it is just under boiling and I pull back the curtain and get in, closing it back behind me.

Steam fills the room as I stand with my head pressed against the tile wall of the shower completely relaxed. My skin begins to tingle at the feeling of the hot water, washing away the past few days.

Once I get out, I dry off, brush my teeth, and try to tame my messy hair, which is currently looking like a wet dog on my head.

I walk out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on my hips, and onto the cheap hotel carpet, walking over to the closet to get some clothes for the day. I decide to wear the same boxers because they aren't really that dirty, so why not? I pull out a pair of dark, slim blue jeans and the one shirt I was able to grab before running for my life.

The towel drops off of my hips and I get dressed, preparing for the day ahead.

I unplug my phone from the charger, looking to see that I have four missed calls. I slide to unlock and open the app with the little phone on it and see that my dad is the one who tried to call me about two hours ago.

"No," I say to myself, "I will not go back and live with that anymore. I can make it on my own."

I delete the missed calls from the call log and lock the phone, putting it in the front pocket of my jeans and go back into the bathroom to look at my face in the brightly lit mirror. All of the abrasions are still extremely vivid.

There is a little white washcloth that is on top of a bar next to the sink and I begin to look for any type of face wash. Nothing. I look around the bathroom thinking that there has to be extra soap somewhere.

I look over at the toilet and see a little basket on top of the tank with a whole bunch of shampoo, conditioner, and soap.

I walk over, about to grab the soap, when I see a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and anti-bacterial wipes. I take both and bring them back to where I was standing before.

After looking into the mirror, examining the damage, I pour a small amount of alcohol onto the white cloth and bring it to the large cut on my face, right below the right eye.

The washcloth with alcohol touches the cut, the pain immediately returning. I whimper at the feeling as a flashback appears behind my eyes. I take a deep breath and notice my breathing is starting to get somewhat shakey.

I bring the cloth to my face again, and again, trying to disinfect the cut. Once I finish, I move on to the busted lip, pain shooting through my mouth, and decide to stop because it is hurting too much. I grab another washcloth and decide to use warm water to clean around the wound.

Moving the cloth slowly around my face to the little cuts and scrapes, I make sure to get each and last one of them as clean as possible. The last one, right on the side of my head, is very tender.

The cloth is stained a splotchy light red as I wash it in the sink and hang it back on the shiny bar to use later tonight. I set the disinfecting wipes next to the faucet, just in case I run out of rubbing alcohol.

I turn the light out as I walk out of the bathroom and go to my bag, pulling out my computer and the white charger.

I exchange my phone charger for the computer charger and plug in the laptop, which is probably dead from what is now three days without a charge.

I sit down on the side of the bed and open it up, seeing Netflix still open. I scroll to the top of the window and click open a new tab, searching "Real Estate Los Angeles California".

There are three places. One which has half a star, another with two, and one with four and a half. I think I am going to go with the third option.

After I find the address of the property, I decided to plug it into maps on my computer and see that it is about a ten-minute drive away from me, and it looks like there is a small parking lot, so I will drive. Good thing too, because it is a forty minute walk!

I close the laptop, setting it on the bedside table where the lamp is, and grab my wallet and car keys. I make sure that I have my room key, and when I know I have it, I make my way to the door, fully closing it behind me and checking that the door is locked.

I make my way down the hall to the parking garage that is connected to the hotel, and walk straight across the narrow way to my Camaro.

Once the navigation on my phone has started I notice that my stomach is rumbling. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon! I decided to go get some food, other than a burger after I look around and talk with someone about moving.

I pull up and see two very nice cars, one is a Cadillac and the other a Lexus, and park in between the two.

I walk into the small building and am immediately helped by a nice brunette woman.

"Hello!" She says cheerfully. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"Yes, actually," I say. "I was wondering if I could get someone to show me a few apartments in the area. I am interested in renting."

"Looks like you are talking to the right person!" She says, getting up from behind the counter. "Follow me into my office and we will get started."

We walk down a narrow hallway into an even smaller room, which contained an L shaped desk, two chairs in front, and a large office chair behind.

"Just have a seat there and we can get started," she says. "Now, tell me about what you are looking for."

"I just want something simple. One bedroom, one- maybe one and a half baths, decent kitchen, living room, and if possible a decent sized dining room."

"Alright, pretty easy so far," she says jokingly. "Any particular area you would like to live in?"

"I'm actually new to this area," I say chuckling. "Maybe somewhere close to the beach. Thirty minutes to an hour out."

The nice woman is clicking through a few options on her desktop computer to narrow down a few options.

"Good choice!" she says after the pause. "Now, let's talk price. How much a month are you planning on spending?"

"I was thinking around eight hundred a month," I reply.

"Alright. That is kind of a tight squeeze but we can make this work."

She pulls up a few homes, showing about seven to me, letting me choose which ones look interesting.

"Alright, so you like the one closer to the beach?" She asks confirming.

"Yes ma'am," I say.

"Alright, when are you available to go take a tour? The open house is tomorrow, Friday, then again on Saturday."

"I am available tomorrow!" I say. "Could we plan for around One in the afternoon?"

"That works! See you then," She says, getting up from the desk and over to me.

She shakes my hand politely and opens the door for me, walking me out.

"Here is my card," She says as we get to the main entrance. "Call me if you have any questions!"

I smile and nod politely, walking out.

Now to go get some food because I am pretty sure my stomach is about to eat its self.