I had always known there were things wrong with my town. The way everyone acted and kept things from each other. The way everyone smiled at each other, but it hadn't reached their eyes. Everyone talked about unison and equality there but they all tried to fight over the same thing: to look good and get a higher place next to the Leaders.
My town was split into three sections: One was the Leaders, the richest and the most political out of all of us. They controlled what happened in the town, who got to stay and who got to leave and who got more money.
The Centers were the group my father and I fell under. We were pretty much the middle class, with suburban homes and nice lawns. The Centers had enough money to make us look good. But the Centers were normally the ones with the worst home living situation.
Then there was the last group, The Antipodals. They were the poorest of us all, the untouchables, but the ones that kept the town running. They were farmers and merchants, bringing in our food so we didn't have to leave our town to go buy things from Walmart and Publix.
This class system had been in play for fifty years when a family up in Kentucky with a father whose only goal was to revert back to the '50s, moved to South Carolina because they wanted to leave the complicated lives they had once lived in this "rambunctious" world. They recruited others, handing out flyers and getting people online.
I had looked up my town when I left. We were considered a cult to other people.
I couldn't disagree.
I have thought about coming out to people to tell them of the strange occurrences that had happened, maybe even arrive on one of those tv shows that talked about ex-cult members. But, from what I knew, no one was doing anything illegal in my town like killing or raping anyone like the other cults such as The Manson Family or the Kool-aid Jim Jones group did. If I told anyone about them being indeed a cult, I would be the one to get into trouble considering I ran away.
And even if I told them the truth about what my father kept secret...
They wouldn't listen.
I had been sitting on my bed, starting at the bottle of knocked over pills for I think twenty minutes. Maybe longer. And no matter how long I looked or blinked...it still wouldn't disappear. I hadn't dared try to touch it. I feared I wouldn't like what I found out.
The bottle of Apap the woman had left in my room had stayed there since yesterday. I had noticed it again when I had come back from the dinner with James.
After he had hired me, he told me everything I would do here. I chose to stay in this room. I didn't need anything big and I already loved that it had a built-in bathroom. I was fine with it. I would be manning the counter with Liz and Iris, who would be told of my employment by James later today. The dinner itself had tasted amazing, and the dessert after was heavenly. He had kissed my hand when I left once again, which I was beginning not to mind all that much. I had come back to my room, happier than ever. I don't think I had been that happy in a long, long time. I had a job, a place to stay, and people to talk to. I had my life straightened out.
I had just forgotten one, simple thing.
I was still off my medication, and I was supposed to be hallucinating, so you could see it being a bit of surprise for me to find the knocked over bottle still sitting there...when I thought the transaction hadn't been real.
So here I sat ever since this morning when I had woken up, thinking that my mind was just messing with again last night.
I waited...and waited...and waited...but yet that bottle did not disappear.
Was I going insane? I think I was. This might be the part in a story where the main character has to accomplish some mentally challenging act, like confronting one's own illness or looking deep into themselves to find the " true " meaning of life or some bullshit like that.
My eyes were starting to water from how long I hadn't blinked.
They aren't real. I had repeated this one sentence easily a hundred or more times since this morning and I still didn't know if I was right.
I would know, though, if I did one very simple thing.
All I had to do was get up and pick up the bottle. If it wasn't real, it would disappear or fade or I wouldn't be able to feel it in my hand. If it was real though...that meant the woman that had been in here was real, and had gotten in when I had been sleeping.
I didn't know if I wanted to know the truth, but I couldn't sit here all day, I had a job to do and I couldn't be late on my first day.
I breathed in and out slowly, gripping my sheets with such intensity I felt my nails digging into my palms through the fabric.
"Fuck it." I decided then stood up quickly, walking over and-
When I closed my hand around it, I felt it. I felt the plastic slightly dip under the pressure of my fingers. I felt the couple of pills shake as they fell out of the bottle. I felt the slight sweat that had coated the outside from whatever pocket the woman had kept it in.
It was real.
"Goddamn it!" I yelled and hurled the bottle at the wall, the pills that had remained inside of it spreading out across my floor and some cracked against the wall they hit, spreading a little, hazy tan powder behind it. The bottle hit my door and bounded off to roll to my feet.
I put my hands to my head, curling them into my hair and closed my eyes.
I hoped that that woman had left because if I saw her again, I didn't know what I would do.
"Here is the book all residents sign in." Iris said, flipping a large book that rested on top of the front counter, running a finger down the lists of names that coated the page in varying handwritings of pen and pencil.
I had arrived at the lobby about half an hour ago where Iris was. Apparently Liz had been told by someone else other than James about me now working here, and had told Iris, who had started to impatiently direct me about what I was supposed to do, what rooms I could go into and ones I could not, how to treat the guests and how to get a good tip and so on, as soon as I had arrived.
I nodded to her after I scanned the book. "Got it. Anything else?"
"Oh, leave the girl alone, Iris." Liz said, leaning off from where she stood by the back office door, the smoke from her cigarette curling up towards the roof. She motioned to me with the hand that held it. "She obviously knows what she's supposed to be doing around here. And besides, we don't do much besides stand here and show people to their rooms."
Iris looked to her and pointed a finger at her. "You know we do a lot more than that. A person should be dedicated to their job! A job isn't just to stand around for the money."
Liz archeda brow. "Isn't it though?"
Iris shook her head and turned back around, looking at me. "Don't pay any attention to her. She doesn't know what she's talking about."
Liz laughed.
Iris looked like she was just about to argue with her some more when somebody walked in.
We all looked to the door.
A young, handsome man walked down the small steps from the front door, looking as if he had just had some badly cooked fish. His brow hair was combed back and a black turtleneck on, an ivory colored jacket in his left hand, which matched his pants.
If there was a resting bitch face, his seemed to be the resting brood face.
"Hey, Donovan." Iris said, moving closer to the counter and giving him a wave, smiling.
The man, Donovan, barely glanced over, looking over me once as he walked towards the elevator, got in and disappeared behind the golden doors.
Iris's shoulders slumped.
"Who was that?" I ask.
"Iris's son." Liz answered, putting out her cigarette with a sigh.
I knit my brow. Her son? Why had he looked like he didn't even know her? Had he even looked at her?
Iris shook her head, turning the book back around and sorting some pens back into a jar. She breathed in shakily and tapped her bitten nails on the table, looking at the elevator at where Donovan had been standing before arrupted turning around and headed into the back room, slamming the door.
Liz mumbled something then looked at me, patting my shoulder. "She tends to get upset when her son ignores her. I'll go deal with her."
With that, she too turned around and headed into the back office, shutting the door with a much quieter close. I watched the door as I heard their voices talking back and forth in low voices. I couldn't imagine as to why her own son would ignore her like that. Had they gone through some sort of fight?
Sighing, I turned around. I then yelped in surprise at what I saw.
The most beautiful woman I had ever seen stood before me.
She had her long, blonde hair slightly curled at the edges, down, the length reaching well to her waist. She had on a long black dress with a slit up the thigh and a V shaped cut that stopped at her abdomen, with a black, fluffed shawl over her shoulders. Red lipstick the color of blood was painted over her lips, that were slightly parted to show her white teeth. Her green eyes had long, thick, black eyeliner painted along its edges, making her emerald orbs jump out more thoroughly.
She tilted her head to me and I think I forgot to breathe.
After a second, I snapped out of whatever daze I had been in and cleared my throat, trying to smile.
"Good morning." I said the best " welcome to a hotel " voice I had. "Would you like a room?"
The woman hummed, looking me over in a long, calculating gaze before a small smile tugged at her lips.
"I already have a room. I'm a long time resident here." She said in a low voice. She spoke slowly and delicately, like a single leaf floating down a long, slow stream.
"Oh." I said, assessing how I stood and how I looked. I must have looked awful with no makeup, a hoodie and a messy bun. I cleared my throat again. "Is there anything I can help you with then?"
"I heard from a friend of mine you were just hired here." She said matter of factly.
I nodded. "Just yesterday."
"Normally I'm the one that takes care of the hires here," She informed me. "While James does own this hotel, I run it. He didn't speak to me first before he employed you."
Oh no. Was she going to fire me? I had barely had this job for 24 hours.
"Oh don't worry," She told me, seeming to read my thoughts on my face and she smiled a bit wider. "I don't mean to get rid of you, I simply want to know you better. I tend to get to know anybody that's hired here and since we haven't met, I thought we could talk later tonight."
I blinked at her and then nodded after I realized she was waiting for my answer, even if she hadn't asked a question.
"That would be great." I told her and she nodded.
"Good." She said, moving back from the counter and moved a bit of her hair off her shoulder. "My suite is room 92. I'll be available at five."
With that, the woman turned away, walking towards the elevator with a sway of her hips.
Only when the doors closed did I allow myself to breath out, putting a hand to my chest, where I felt my heart beating wildly beneath my skin.
Once, when I was in grade school, I was playing hide and go seek with the kids from my class. I was hiding in one of the playhouse's when the person who was it ran up to the doorway of the playhouse I was hiding in. He hadn't seen me and I had covered my mouth with my hand, making sure no sound had come out. My other hand had been on my chest as I had pressed myself against the wooden wall. My heart had been pumping just like this. Wild from the adrenaline.
I had found myself enjoying it, that feeling of my heart, the blood pumping through my veins. Even after he had left, the aftermath of the feeling had remained.
I think that was what I was feeling now, the adrenaline yet I wasn't hiding.
Did that make any sense? No, I didn't think it did.
After a moment, Iris and Liz came out together, Iris's eye looking a little red, but other than that, well put together.
"Anybody come by?" She asked.
I shook my head.
"No." I lied.
What the strange part was, that I hadn't needed to lie, but I did anyway.