8- A Horrific Turn

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Alice's POV

Roadside motels sure do live up to their reputation. They're as icky, grubby, grimy, and unkempt as people as claim, and this one in particular is as filthy as they come. Don't let the name confuse you: the motel may be called Springtime Lodge, but the only spring this place has are the loose springs in the mattresses.

The two days I've had to stay in this hell-hole have probably been the longest and most gruesome two days of my life. I feel like every time I sit down I need to shower and send myself out to be dry cleaned. The rooms are so unclean you could run a finger on the bathroom mirror and come away with oodles of dust and grime.

The only good out of this otherwise germophobic situation was the fact that my mother and Aunt Bea were beginning to make ends meet. They had been blabbing on the phone for hours, and although heavy amounts of shouting were heard, apologies quickly followed. If all goes well, hopefully we'd be back in the Victorian within a day.

In the meantime, Asa and I had successfully rescheduled our JAVA date, and last night he had taken me to see some sci-fy movie. Although I wasn't really into that type of film, I knew Asa was, so I was happy to sit through two hours of lasers and spaceships as long as I could sit right next to the boy of my dreams.

Of course, he was oblivious to the fact I secretly hated sci-fy movies, because at the opportunity to hang out with THE Asa Butterfield, I had told him I wanted to see whatever stupid alien movie he had in store.

I could not complain. Not only had my fantasies of meeting Asa had become a reality, the fact that Asa told me he wanted to hang out again after last night was completely out of this world. In that moment I felt like I was in a dream-a dream so sweet I was getting a major toothache. It was the most quintessential night- and although we were still just acquaintances, the chemistry Asa and I had during our "date" was simply...magical.

When Asa spilled his drink on his pants in the theater, I couldn't help but chuckle. When tried to wipe it up he has knocked his elbow into MY drink, sending it's contents flying all over the floor, that was when Asa and I split our sides laughing. He endured through the rest of the film with sticky soda residue all over himself, attracting the eyes of many people passing by as we exited the building.

It was quite a sight, and even though Asa was miserable from the accident he had caused, I knew that he had truly enjoyed himself. The genuine smile he had given me as I waved goodbye showed Asa was really starting to think of me as more of just a fan. During our time at the movies, all social status had seemed to dissipate, and when the lights dimmed in our movie room, we became two ordinary teens having a good time.

As I had been secretly hoping since the moment I had gone to JAVA, Asa offered to show me part of the set from Ender's Game. We made plans for Wednesday, taking into account Asa was scheduled to attend a very important meeting for his possible casting as Jude in Ten Thousand Saints on Tuesday.

Now however, while Asa was probably running off somewhere with Hailee Steinfeld, I sat like a lump on one of the ragged, unkept motel couches, daydreaming about the marvelous events of yeserday, as well as creating a picturesque scene of what Wednesday would be like.... AKA wasting my time, as usual.

"Good news!" My father announced, strutting into the room with a happy-go-lucky grin on his face. "We're moving back in with Aunt Bea!"

"Finally! Thank God!" I shouted, standing up and racing to the corner of my room to fetch my mini suitcase.

"Do you have everything?" My mother asked frantically, stunning into the scene with two bunk load suitcases in her hands, acting as if she had planned to stay her for weeks. "Cause if you forget something, there's no way in hell we're coming back for it."

"That's reassuring." I mumbled under my breath, zipping up my luggage and heading off to do a cursory scan of our motel room in search of any valuables I had left behind. I snatched up my earbuds from one of the dressers, silently thanking my mother for suggesting I hunt for anything misplaced. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't listen to music for the rest of the trip without having to blast it up in front of my parents.

"Alice." My father said, beckoning me to where he stood. "A word."

"Arthritis." I replied. "That's a word, and an appropriate one too, considering the shape of Aunt Bea's hands."

My father rolled his eyes at my joke and I knew this time he meant business. I plodded over to where he stood as he bent down to be eye level with me.

"When we get back to Aunt Bea's house, I don't want any smart remarks or any mention of the fight on Saturday. Just keep your nose out of anything that doesn't involve you. Aunt Bea has been very touch-and-go lately." My father stood up, his tone and mood letting up a bit. "Capishé?"

"Capishé." I replied, trying to comprehend the untold reasoning as to why my father described my aunt as "touch-and-go." I mean sure, the argument rattled her nerves, as it would to anyone, but it was out of her character to hold a grudge about it. If I knew Aunt Bea, within a day she would forgive and forget and let bygones be bygones, so the mere fact she was moody really threw me off kilter.

"Let's go!" My mother hollered, shattering my train of thought. Questions still lingered in my mind as I followed my mother out the motel room door, with no intentions of ever returning to this wretched rat hole.

Our ride back to Aunt Bea's Victorian was practically silent, if you don't count the blaring sound of my dad listening to Led Zeppelin. The radio may have drowned out my dad's senses, but certainly not mine.

My mother whispered something to my father, and I strained to hear what she was saying. Even though I could only catch snippets of the conversation, I managed to piece together a loose theory of what was really going on.

"She sounded worried on the phone,"

"Kelly you need to stop jumping to conclusions. Bea doesn't hate you, and even if she did, she probably would've gotten over it by the time she sees us."

"That's not the point, John!" My mother said a little too loudly. "Right before I hung up, there was some sort of loud noise; like a crash. What if Bea fell or something?"

My father took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before pulling up in front of my aunt's house.

"She's fine."

I pulled out my earbuds and shut off my phone as I yanked the car door open and stepped outside. My parents approached the Victorian's wooden doors slowly, doing a terrible job at hiding their anxiety about spending the rest of the day with Aunt Bea without blowing a gasket or having a conniption.

As my father opened one of the ornate doors, a loud gasp erupted from my mother, followed by a startled shriek. My heart leaped as I raced over her, curious to see what has made her jump.

"Alice get away from there!" My father ordered, fear shaking in his voice.

I ignored him and broke away from his grip, running to the front entrance. As I arrived to peer into Aunt Bea's home, what I saw caught me off guard.

Before me was a scene so shocking, I could no do nothing but let out a scream of pure terror.

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