Misguided Ghosts

I sat on the very edge of the swimming pool of the five star hotel I'd been staying at for a week now. MY feet were in the disgustingly warm water and the sun beat down on my bare back. Despite how vibrant the sun was, there was a freezing wind that randomly picked up and died down in odd intervals. For some reason, I felt something deep inside of me that told me to pay close attention to the world around me. Something was going to happen and I needed to watch for it, granted it wasn't going to be obvious. I kept my eyes alert and pouncing from object to object. My suspisions about people were muted and my accusations weren't heard--no pun intended. Still, I sat slumped on the deep side of the pool and sighed as my attention was once more tempted by the water. I felt the need to go in, but my raging headache kept me at bay. As that thought hit me, I wondered why I was even out here in the first place. The reek of the people and their food wasn't helping anything. For the very first time in four years, I thanked God that my hearing was gone. I would die if I was able to hear what these people were talking about. Just by staring and reading their lips, I knew how stupid their conversations could get. There'd be no point in talking if only those things came out.

I pushed myself up, deciding there was no point in being out here. I weaved through the scurrying children and shuffled through the gates into the garage-type-thing. Everything that was anything was stored in here, I had found out. I once came across a pregnancy book, a pogo stick, and a cape all inside one box. Casting the thoughts off, I leapt up the stairs to the door. Shouldering it open, I stumbled out into the empty hall. I closed the door, hopefully, quietly behind me and tried to remember what room I had. For living here a week, you'd think I'd end up remembering. But, no. I had to forget each time I left the room. Needless to say, I'm not leaving again anytime soon.

I shuffled in the direction I sincerly hoped it was around and kept my eyes open for the familiar door. Beside the frame, there was a little hole that my knuckles had made the very first day I arrived. Not daring to let the memory back, I shrugged it off. With my attention everywhere, I hadn't noticed what I slipped on. I stopped dead in tracks and gazed down with horror at the carpet.

Author's Note

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