I pointed out the white and grey abandoned hotel on the coastal cliff to my husband. I had spoken about the place often, having as a child grown up there. This was the first time we had seen the place and now it belong to us. I couldn’t wait to get re-living my childhood again.
Were they digging to the center of the earth? I didn’t know but I just wanted to sleep. The sounds of the drilling vibrated everything, so there was no way to block the noise out. I looked up hotels and moved out for the weekend. Peace at last!
It wasn’t what the holiday brochure advertised but I wasn’t one to be picky. Everything worked, it was clean, the view was nice and the hotel staff friendly. It didn’t seem a bad place for a single traveller to stay in during a sunny holiday. Though the building looked really ramshackled and about to fall down. It creaked something awful which the sounds of the river and boats couldn’t counter. The feelings of danger never left and I just couldn’t relax. Sad to say, but I went home early and back to my country gripped in the blast of winter.
I hadn’t thought about anything else other then having a nap after getting off the plane. Bundling myself into a taxi and arriving at the hotel, I had go to my room and just crawled into the bed as if it had been my real destination all along.
The loud crying of a baby woke me up. I lay mused across the bed, wondering where I was. Slowly, as the baby’s crying faded I remembered the business trip. Letting out a sigh, I checked my watch without getting up. It was close to half past seven. My plan had landed around three. So…counting in the before nap parts, I had been asleep for three hours and a half or so. Good job, I had nowhere to be this evening!
I got up and took of my black suit jacket then re-arranged my comfy black pants and white blouse. I took my hair down – half of it had fallen anyway and out of habit checked myself in the mirror. Satisfied, I crossed the hotel room to the windows, where I pulled the draping white curtains aside.
A door led onto a small balcony, I stepped out. The warm evening air caressed my face, I breathed in the city and lake smell, finding it strangely sweet and earthy. There was the noise of traffic and people; the hum of the city. I could hear the lapping water, it was almost right below me. It was a breathtaking view.
Looking down, I saw the skyscrapers towered reflective against the ruddy clouds. The imagine was constantly moving in small ripping waves and I half thought the city was actually under that surface. I looked across and saw the glowing sunset lighting up the building as if they were on fire and I wondered, when I was the last time I had seen anything like this?
The sky was dark ruby and amethyst with an underlining of white cloud edges. I could just see the amber of the sun peeking. There was just so much of this colour everywhere, it was magical. The urge to reach out to touch it and know what it felt like, swelled within me. I raised my arms and stretched my fingers, like a vampire gently arising from the grave.
I felt a warm breeze with a hint of coldness from the lake. My hands were surrounded by the colors but I knew they never could become one with them. I lowered my arms and put my hands to the railing. There was an unreal, dream like feeling but I knew I was wide awake.
Greyson got the hotel room were the murderer had stayed. The supervisor had thought it was funny he’d request that number as everyone else refused to stay in that room. It interested Greyson though, not from a supernatural point but a psychological one. Sitting on the bed, he got all the papers he had gathered about the murderer and her victims. He re-read everything carefully, thinking over the facts and figures. It was a twisted case but being in that room helped him to put everything together. Perhaps, there was hope Greyson could help her now.
Finally, she had broken through all her fears and now she had arrived at her holiday destination. Taking in deep breaths of clean air and feeling the hot sun on her face, she stepped into the hotel. After checking in and abandoning her things in the room, she hurried to the pool, ready to relax.
By the time they reached the hotel, she was too exhausted to care. Snuggling down into the bed, she fell asleep right away. Throughout the night, the ghosts of the haunted hotel came into the room. In turn, they tried to wake the woman but she didn’t respond to their loud moans, their moving of furniture or flashing of lights. Her husband though, sat wide awake fascinated. In the morning, she awoke feeling refreshed but found her husband crazed with tales of ghosts.
The hotel staff knew him like they knew the numbers on a clock which was very useful because he was always on time. He arrived without flash, in comfy clothes and carrying a small black suitcase. To anyone else he looked like a tourist, but the check in desk girls knew him not to be.
He said his name quietly and he would check in. With his card, he would take the lift up to his room and he would roll his suitcase down the carpet corridor and to the door. There, he let himself in and the door shut firmly behind him with the please do not disturb sign swinging.
He would be seen frequently around the hotel; in the restaurant, in the bar, in the lounge and lobby. Sometimes he would be typing away on a laptop, other times writing in a notebook and whilst he eat; reading a book, always alone. No one seemed really interested him in, a quick glance then on to what they were doing.
His stay could last a few days or a week, sometimes though it would be more than that; two or three weeks, a month or two. It just depend on what he needed. Then he would tidy his room and check out. Often looking more cheerful then he came in.
Months later in the post, the hotel always received a copy of his new novel.
There was something satisfying about dozing in the hot sun by the side of the swimming pool. All my troubles seemed to melt and not want to resurface. I was carried away by the cool water gently lapping, the palm trees waving and the pleasant sounds of children playing. It was going to be hard to leave this all behind and return back home to work. Maybe, I could just hide out here forever and become part of the hotel furniture.
I sit here in this darkened hotel room and look out across the river. Lights reflect across the water, reminding me of the way you danced into my life and then out of it again. Why did you leave? The question has burned within me for so long now, I fear the fire may never go out. I know you are out there somewhere and perhaps one day you will read this. Till then though I’ll keep leaving these notes behind and hoping you’ll find them.