The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

chapter 47: all the colours in the world

"Can I get a single room, please?"

The motel looks somewhat classy from the inside. Maybe it's the crimson red carpet covering the floor, and the gold-plated border of the receptionist's desk. There is a red telephone at one corner of the desk, and a black violin case lying on the other. Curious.

The old man behind the counter has a stark resemblance to the old woman behind the counter at the movie theater. I wonder if they are related. The man nods, looks for something behind the table, then fishes out a key. A keyring with the number 208 is attached to it. I take the key from him, and wait a bit for him to say something. He doesn't, so I awkwardly leave, July following me. As I'm going up the stairs, I see him grab the violin case.

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The room is incredibly small.

There is literally nothing but a single bed with peach-coloured sheets, a bedside table, a curtain-less window overlooking to the forest behind the motel, and an attached bathroom. What's worse, the window isn't beside the bed like it is in my room, and the room I was staying in back at the Emmens. The window is against the wall adjacent to the bed. And what's even worse: the room kind of stinks. God knows what the smell is.

"You should be glad you can't smell, July," I say as I put down my bag. I wait for his response as I bring out the beeswax candle and place it on the bed's header. But no response comes.

I look behind me, and find July at the window, absentminded. Once in a while, the leaves and branches swaying in the wind slap against the window glass covered in raindrops, making July blink faster.

I decide to leave him be. He has a lot to think about, and I'm way too exhausted after such a long day. After freshening up within a minute (the bathroom is smaller than the one at Edgar's house, but there is a bathtub), I plop down on the creaking bed, set an alarm on my phone, and immediately fall asleep.

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I blink my eyes open, finding Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex softly playing beside my ear.

I reach for my phone under the pillow and turn off the alarm. From now on, I don't want to waste time sleeping, so I set the alarm for 8AM. My eyes are stinging and my head is still heavy from the 4-hour sleep, but I still drag my body to a sitting position.

I look beside me. It's empty.

Then I look around the room, finding it as empty as the bed. A dull pain erupts somewhere deep within my chest. For the past few days, I've been going to sleep with July beside me, and waking up with him gone. It's almost like he is doing this deliberately, as if he wants me to get used to this inevitable feat of my near-future life.

The window is now open, so the smell has dissipated a bit. I get off the bed and head off to the bathroom, the door of which is half open. I peak in. July's clothes are on the ground in front of the small bathtub. The curtains pulled to the side, I can see him inside the tub, the water reaching a little below his shoulders. I feel an inexplicable emotion rising within me at the sight, but I'm too scared to explore it.

He has his chin on his palm, eyes unfocused, lost in thought. The sunrays pouring in from the tiny window over the bathtub barely manages to illuminate him; he sits in the shadow.

I call, "July."

He snaps out of his thoughts with a jolt of his brows and looks at me. "Oh, Cedar." He looks away, and sinks in deeper until the water is touching his chin. "You're awake. I thought you would turn off the alarm and go back to sleep."