That’s how I found myself in a hotel room. I had to get out of the house because the atmosphere there was unbearable. Perhaps I should have stayed, but I was too tired after another stressful day on the job, not to mention her message about the divorce. Perhaps it’s better this way, I thought. We still don’t have kids, so if she can’t trust me, maybe we should break up before we get some.
I was the child of the divorced parents, and even though they both tried their best to be good parents, I still had one horrible thought in my mind: “Am I not the result of love?” Thinking about the past made me shiver; as I always tried to hold my tears, not letting them go down my face.
It took me a while to realize that the shiver I felt wasn’t only caused by my painful memories. It was actually cold in the room. I didn’t care a lot about it—if the change of temperature made sense or not. I just opened up the window, knowing that it was warm outside. It was summer, after all.
At that moment, I felt a strong wind. It must have been nothing but a drift, since it caused the violent shouting of the window, breaking it. The pieces of the glass fell on me like raindrops, but not as gentle. I wasn’t hurt very much, but the glass cut my skin in a few places on my face and hands. Just what I need! If she sees me like this tomorrow by some chance, she will most likely say how I went somewhere, get drunk, and did who knows what. It’s incredible how the mind can focus on a very few things at the same time.
“Ladies are better when it comes to multitasking,” she used to say when we argued about who is smarter: men or women. Hah … smarter. Perhaps we should have asked ourselves who was less stupid.
It was about 11:30 p.m. when I heard the crying. It belonged to children, but not babies; I could tell. Babies cry in an irritating way, but this wasn’t so irritating as much as it was painful, sad, desperate … I walked out of the room to see where the sounds were coming from. I couldn’t detect it well; it was kind of echoing in the upper corners of my room. I called the reception desk.
“Hi! I hear the cries of the children in my room. I’d like you to go and check out on the kids; they seem troubled,” I said.
“Sir,” said the voice on the line, “there are no kids in the hotel. Are you sure it’s not the voice from a TV? We can ask our guests to turn down the noise of the television.”
“No, it lasts for too long to be the TV. There are kids here, I tell you.”
“Would you like to switch the room, sir?”
God, I hated that question. It was just a way to say “I don’t know how or I don’t care to fix this right now.” I just said that I was fine with the room I had and I ended the conversation. I said nothing about the broken window; I didn’t want to deal with it just now. It took about a half hour for the crying to stop.
I was sitting on a chair, watching the ring. Due to all the things going on in my life, I felt quite disturbed, but also, that crying made me a bit anxious. How could I hear the crying if there were no kids in the hotel? There was video surveillance in the entire building (I saw it), and so nobody could pass. I looked at the mirror on the wall right in front of me and examined my face closely. I was tired, my face was pale, and my hair was messy.
Then I saw her, coming from the shadows behind me: a tall, white figure with dark holes instead of eyes. I couldn’t move; I couldn’t turn around to see if there was really someone or if it was just a strange reflection. I watched her, getting closer and closer to me, until she was close enough to put her hands around my neck and place her head next to mine.
With a horrific scream, she started to suffocate me. I struggled for air, trying to release the grip of her hands, but when I would try to touch her, I felt some mix of icy and burning sensations rather than a human skin. Whatever she was, she was no human. Not anymore.
Suddenly, my phone started to ring. She was obviously surprised by the sound because the grip was released for a second. I tried to get up, but my entire body became heavy and I fell back in the chair, dropping my phone. The conversation was on, as well as the speakerphone. My wife’s voice said, ”Baby, I’m so sorry I doubted you! I just talked to Sarah; she admitted that there was nothing going on between you two! How could I be so stupid to believe everything that frustrated bitch had to say? Please, come back home, give me a chance to apologize … Please, baby, come home …” She was crying. I tried to answer, but the grip was too hard. “Baby, are you OK?” she asked.
The moment I thought I was done for, the grip disappeared. I grabbed the phone, trying to answer her. However, it was difficult, until I inhaled enough air. I told her I was coming back. I wanted to see her, to kiss her, but also to escape this place. I ran out without taking my belongings.
I
