the motel room

Ominous clouds fill the dark sky above. A light fall of rain taps on my car window. The ground is covered with a thin layer of fog. There’s a storm brewing. I look through the fog and rain at the buildings coming and going as I drive. The road is empty and calm, yet it’s unsettling.

The motel comes into view. Even on the outside, I can tell it has seen much better days. Paint is peeling, showing the dirty bricks behind it. There are cobwebs in almost every corner. I drive into the small parking lot. There is nothing else but a rusty van and some trash littered on the concrete. As I grab an umbrella and open the door, a rat scurries past and goes into the darkness under the building. Thinking about everything that could be down there makes me shudder with disgust. I shut the door and make sure that it’s locked. The place looks even worse from up close. Some numbers have fallen off the doors, and an ice machine outside looks like no one has used it in centuries. 

I take a deep, shaky breath. I have an inexplicable feeling that I should enter. So, against every bone in my body, I walk carefully up the creaky stairs leading to the second of two floors. Outside of the rooms, there is nothing more than a small balcony. It seems as if someone arbitrarily nailed wooden planks together. They are crooked, and there are many open spaces in between the boards. Still, I continue on. 

After walking in between hole after hole on the unsound balcony, I reach a door. The numbers have fallen off completely, but somehow I know this is the room I’m supposed to enter. I go to knock on the door, but it’s already unlocked and starts to creak open.

“Come in,” a deep, strangely familiar voice calls from the darkness within, “don’t worry, this is the correct room.”

I hesitate outside, trying to peek in and get a better look. “Who are you?”

“Oh, you know me. I can hear the rain getting louder, why don’t you come in where it’s dry?” Lighting crashes outside, followed by a loud roar of thunder. I rush inside.

There is nothing but darkness in the motel room. I frantically feel around for a light switch. My fingers clamp around something, and I flick it up. A single light above me flickers on but creates nothing more than a dim glow in the front area of the room. I can see the inside better now. There isn’t much furniture, although I didn’t expect much based on the exterior. There is simply one chair in the corner. The rest of the room is completely empty. I’ve never seen such a sad motel room.

Another light clicks on around the corner, illuminating the other person’s shadow against the wall. Judging by the build and posture, I assume it’s a man.

“What do you want?” I’m too afraid to go around the corner just yet.

He laughs creepily. “You know what I want! Don’t you remember?” Suddenly, the shadow on the wall changes to a man holding a gun. The thunder roars. “Goodbye.”

BANG!

I wake with a start and feel drops of sweat dripping slowly down my forehead. It takes a second for my brain to process everything. I look around and see that I’m in my bedroom, not some old motel. The blinds are shut, but I can see streaks of sunlight shining through the cracks. I’m petrified, but also relieved. That was just a nightmare, nothing more. It seemed so real, though. I usually can’t dream that vividly, but even after being awake for a little while, I can still remember every detail.

After I get out of bed, I walk over and open the blinds to illuminate the room. A gorgeous landscape reveals itself. The bright blue sky has almost no clouds. I see trees turning beautiful reds, oranges, and browns to represent the start of autumn. The bay glistens under the sun. The view of the city is one of my favorite parts of living here.

“Aria!” My roommate calls me from another room.

“Coming!” I yell back and pick out random clothes from inside my closet to throw on. Once I’m dressed, I walk out.

Gianna is grabbing a banana from the kitchen. She frowns when she sees me walk out.

“Are you okay? You seem a little… shaken.”

“I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I was going to go for a nice, scenic walk. Would you want to come? We

could go to the smoothie place downtown.”

“Sure, that sounds fun.” Gianna smiles and heads for the door. I follow.

We walk along the cobblestone path in the park. It’s one of my favorite places to wind

down or enjoy scenery. I watch leaves fall delicately onto the grass, the sun glow its radiant light onto everything around me, and a few clouds begin to fill the blue sky.

“I love the beginning of autumn,” I can see Gianna looking around too, admiring its beauty.

“Me too. The nature, the weather, everything.” We walk down the path for a little longer until we arrive at the restaurant.

I can tell that the building is new. It looks modern yet cozy. There are large windows facing the front so people can see the bay from inside. A hand-written menu on a chalkboard hangs above the register. While Gianna orders our smoothies, I look for a table. It doesn’t take too long before I find a table for two located right next to a large window. After a minute or two, she sits and joins me.

“I like this table. It has a nice view.” She smiles as she sits across from me.

“Yeah, I guess we got lucky. This place is packed.” The line to order is out the door. There are people at every table. I’m surprised this place is so full because it only opened a few weeks ago. I suppose smoothies are the perfect thing to be selling at this time of year.

We drink our smoothies and talk for a while. She tells me about an upcoming job interview at the local pet shop. I contemplate whether to tell her about my dream, but ultimately decide not to. 

“I didn’t want to say anything, but the man at the table over there,” Gianna points to a handsome man. I turn, look, and find him looking right back at me, “has been eyeing you since we walked in. Maybe you should go and talk to him .” 

“Oh, no. If he wanted to talk to me, he would come over.”

“Suit yourself.” She takes a sip from her smoothie and smiles, looking somewhere behind me.

“Hello.” I jump, startled by the deep voice speaking behind me. The man she was pointing at is standing tall in front of me, as if he was summoned by my words.

“Oh, my- I’m sorry. I-you caught me by surprise.” I can feel my face flushing. Gianna tries to stifle a laugh. 

“My apologies. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight.” The man smiles and I can’t help but smile back.

“Sure. May I ask what your name is?”

“Owen Shapiro.”

“Hi, Owen.” He smiles and hands me his phone so I can type in my number. I enter it and hand it back.

“So,” I begin to speak, but Gianna clears her throat loudly. I take it as a hint to end the conversation. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Can’t wait.” Owen walks away and sits back down at his table. I turn back to Gianna and take a sip of my smoothie. She looks puzzled, as if trying to remember distant memories.

“I know I’ve heard that name before…”

“Owen? It’s fairly common-”

“No, Owen Shapiro. I might’ve heard it on the news.”

”Really? What for?”

“I’m not sure. I just- nevermind.” She grabs her smoothie and looks out the window. There are more people out now. The bay is littered with boats, people are walking their dogs, and children are flying kites in the autumn breeze. I see clouds forming off in the distance.

“Looks like a storm’s brewing.” I point to the dark spot. Gianna nods and looks back at her smoothie. We spend the rest of the time in silence.

The silence lasts for a good amount of time. I take one last sip of my drink and go over to throw it away in the nearest trash can. When I return, I see Gianna gathering her belongings. 

“Are you ready? Let’s go,” she grabs her purse, and we walk out the door. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. When I take it out, I see a few texts from Owen. He sent his address and the details of the date. I smile and respond with a thumbs up.

It takes a while for me to realize Gianna is far ahead of me. I quicken my pace until I’m walking next to her.

“Remind me to look up the name ‘Owen Shapiro’.” She looks down at the cobblestone path.

“Where do you recognize it from?”

“I’m not sure.” We walk a little farther until we reach the house. Gianna grabs a key out of her purse and unlocks the door. The second we get inside and shut the door, she goes over and jumps onto the couch in the living room.

“So, when is the date?” She calls from the other room. I look down at the messages Owen sent.

“Eight-o-clock.” This means I only have an hour to get ready. I hear the television playing softly, which means that I no longer have Gianna’s attention. All the stuff I need is in my room, so I go down the hallway and begin to get ready.

Putting together the perfect outfit takes almost the entire hour. After a lot of decisions, I’ve successfully chosen a modest, pastel dress, a pretty pair of shoes, and a cute half-up-half-down hairstyle. The outfit looks like I put in a good amount of effort but not over the top, which is exactly what I wanted. I put on a little bit of makeup to complete the look and walk out into the living room.

“What do you think?” I pause the television to have Gianna’s full attention, then do a small spin. 

“I love it, and I’m sure he will too,” she gets off the couch and starts to head over to the kitchen, “but there’s something I want you to bring.” She opens a cabinet drawer and pulls out a small gun. I can’t help but let out a small gasp.

“Gianna, I can’t bring a gun to the first date!”

“He’s taking you to his house, right?”

“Well, it’s not quite a house-”

“Then you should definitely bring the gun. It’s just for safety. I’m sure you won’t even need it.”

I pause for a moment. “Fine, I’ll bring it.” Gianna smiles and places the gun carefully into the purse she brought on the walk. She hands the purse to me.

“This has some cash, the gun, and you should put your phone in too. Call me if you need anything,”

“I’ll be fine, really. Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome. It’s just that.. you’re my best friend. I’m not really ecstatic about the idea of you going to some random man’s place.”

I smile, “well, at least I’ll be armed.” We both laugh. I grab my phone from the counter, slip it into the bag, and start to walk out the door.

I stop and turn back. “Oh, Gianna. Remember to look up his name.”

“Right! I will, thank you.”

“Call me if you find anything.”

“Believe me, I will. It looks like the storm’s getting worse. Be careful!” Gianna walks over to grab her computer. I close the door behind me and get into my car. The engine fires up and I’m on my way.

Ominous clouds fill the dark sky above. A light fall of rain taps on my car window. The ground is covered with a thin layer of fog. The storm is definitely getting worse. I look through the fog and rain at the buildings coming and going as I drive. I look left and right to find the address that he sent.

 After a while, I can see it on the side of the road. I turn into the parking lot and stop the car. This place seems eerily familiar, though I’ve never been here before. I might’ve gone when I was a kid and now it’s simply a distant, hazy memory.

I step out of the car and hear the faint sound of rats. I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach and clutch the purse, and gun, tightly. One of Owen’s texts said that he was on the second floor. I see an unstable staircase leading to a small balcony and decide that’s how I’m supposed to get up. The stairs look dangerous, but I continue on. 

The balcony has holes in it from poor construction. I get inexplicable deja vu as I walk across the balcony, trying to find the room as quickly as possible. I see the number before the correct one, and two rooms down is the number after the correct one. I deduce that the door in between, without any number, is the correct one. 

I go to knock on the door, but it’s already unlocked and starts to creak open.

“Come in,” I recognize Owen’s deep voice from the darkness within, “don’t worry, this is the correct room.” I hesitate outside, the nervous pit in my stomach getting larger by the second. 

“Maybe I should go-”

“No, don’t go. I can hear the rain getting louder, why don’t you come in where it’s dry? It’s not safe to drive in heavy rain.” Lighting crashes outside, followed by a loud roar of thunder. I rush inside.

There is nothing but darkness in the motel room. I frantically feel around for a light switch. My fingers clamp around something, and I flick it up. A single light above me flickers on but creates nothing more than a dim glow in the front area of the room. I can see the inside better now. There isn’t much furniture, simply one chair in the corner. The rest of the room is completely empty…

Another light clicks on around the corner, illuminating Owen’s shadow against the wall.

“What do you want?” I’m too afraid to go around the corner. I’m too afraid to move at all. He laughs creepily. 

“You know what I want! Don’t you remember?” 

It all comes back in a blur. This is my dream, it’s coming true. I know this room. I know this motel. But…. how can this be?! My vision becomes clearer. I do remember, I remember it all. I remember that what happens next is...

BANG!

There’s darkness for what feels like forever. My head is spinning at a million miles an hour. Dead. He’s dead. I stand over his body, holding a gun in my shaking hand. My mind is a blurry mess. I can’t process the buzzing of my phone. My entire world has gone numb. I murdered him. He’s dead.. and I shot him.

I fall to my knees in defeat. This is the end. I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I don’t notice a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Aria… Aria…?” A sweet voice calls off in the distance. It gets closer and closer until I open my eyes and see Gianna standing over me. Seeing her is comforting. I sit up slowly.

“He’s dead, Gianna,” I’m mumbling, and Gianna hugs me tightly.

“I know, but that’s good.” 

“No, that’s not good. I killed him, Gianna, me.”

“I found out where I had seen his name,” she grabs her phone, pulls up a website, and shows it to me. It’s our local news site. The article says: ‘Known serial killer, Gregory Keplin, escaped from prison this morning. Authorities are searching for him, but be sure to be careful. His known alias is ‘Owen Shapiro’, a friendly male character. Keplin obtains his targets by inviting them to a local hotel, then proceeding to kill them…’ I can’t read any farther.

“You saved your own life, Aria, and possibly the lives of many others. You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.”

“Wow. Thank you.” My hands are still shaking, and my mind is racing. I take a deep breath to calm down. Owen, or Gregory, is lying on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling in an unsettling manner.

“I do want to know, how did you know that he was planning on shooting?” 

“What?”

“He's killed others many times, how did you kill him?”

As absurd as it sounds, I have to say it. It’s the truth.

“My dream.”