Isolated. ✧ nh

1

Nevaeh

Life for me is set like a clock.

Everyday is the same day on repeat. Waking up 7:30am every morning, getting ready for school. Momma usually greets me with a "Nevaeh Evans your gonna be late for your bus!" The bus gets here at 8:30 so she's just over exaggerating. The bus always stops at the motel which my family owns and lives in. It's a family built business, my mom and I both work there.

I can't wait until someone is willing to buy this dump for a reasonable price so I can move back into the city. The problem is that not a lot of folks come around looking for a place to stay in the middle of no where. I'm kidding of course, but it is practically a ghost town. The population of Redwater, Texas is just barely over 1,000 residents.

My closet holds about 50 or more band t-shirts and a wide variety of shorts and distressed jeans. Alternative is what you could describe me as. Although I didn't have lilac waves strangling me at the neck, complimented with a cold black ring pierced at the bottom corner of my lip a couple of months ago.

"It's just a phase, darling!" My momma complained, begging me to rethink my decision on the lip ring. I don't wear much makeup because momma complains that I shouldn't cover up a "pretty face." Bullshit, obviously.

I add a light coat of mascara on my top and bottom eyelashes before locking up my room and skip downstairs, to the lobby, to have some breakfast. My room is located on the top of 5 floors. Which means I live in the penthouse. Momma sleeps in the lobby nowadays but when dad takes the night shifts, she rests in the first suite on the first floor; closest room to the lobby where the keys, important papers, and cash are located. Dad mainly works in the city, trying to make the big bucks, so he's hardly ever home.

"Mornin' Momma." I yawn, grabbing myself a glass of orange juice and stab a couple of fresh, ripe strawberries with a fork.

"Morning, Darling." She smiled as she poured pancake batter onto the frying pan. "Better eat quick, the bus is gonna get here pretty soon!"

"Doubt it," I passed out a joke, "traffic might hold them up." We both cackled loudly at my ridiculous pun. Having traffic is completely impossible since the motel is established on a dirt pathway, a mile off of the main road.

"But no, I'm serious, It's 8 o'clock." She threw on the "downbeat mother" face as she twisted the knob of the old stove that settled in the kitchen. She carried the plate of pancakes and bowl of fruit out of the kitchen and passed the lobby.

I sighed, smirking, I follow her to the huge room called "The Common Room". A room which guests eat breakfast, rest on the armchairs to watch the pubic television, and communicate with others. Last time I checked, we only have about 7 guests staying with us today. That's above our weekly average! I reached for the remote that was squished between the two couch cushions of a beat down love seat, clicking the "on" button. The television was full of static (as usual). I switched to the channel that held all the cartoons, having my eyes glued to the screen instantly. A couple of minutes of gazing at an old rerun of Tom & Jerry, my mother snapped me out of it and bombarded me with stupid questions.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes."

"Is your backpack packed?"

"Yess."

"Room cleaned?"

"Yesss."

"Got your lunch mo-"

"Yessss!" I interrupted her by pulling out the 10 bucks from the back pocket of my distressed shorts and waved it in her face. Before I threw my backpack over my shoulder, the front door's bell rung, notifying my mother and I that a guest arrived.