The fall and winter are the worst seasons for me, personally. The transition of summer to fall is always something I’ve had a dislike for, mostly because the energy of warmth and fun associated with summer slowly fades away to an energy of depression and sobering. I have many great memories, over half of them being from the summer, and mostly the bad ones being from the winter and fall. This one, unsurprisingly is from last Thanksgiving. Think of it as my Thanksgiving treat
My family got into a huge argument a few years back, and ever since, it’s seperated the family into two halves. I wasn’t present at the argument when it happened, but it was a ‘failed family reunion,’ I guess you could say. Because I wasn’t present, the seperated sides don’t even have a problem with me, so I sometimes switch places I go to almost every year during Thanksgiving and Christmas. Last year, I was going to meet up with my favorite side of the family, because they made great food, had my favorite cousins and aunt/uncle, so I was, to put it simply, pretty pumped. My father gave me a blue 2001 Ford Explorer when I first got my license. A pretty basic car, but this was the car I was going to drive with for the meet up. We were going to meet at this bar place, and then we’d do some activities, like go-karts and putt-putt. I absolutely love go-karts, so the entire time I was driving there, I was deadset on embarrassing my family on the track.
Everything was fine for the first few hours. I hadn’t arrived yet because of heavy traffic, though I’d expected it because it was a few days before Thanksgiving. I texted my aunt, who was the ‘director’ basically, how I wasn’t going to get anywhere close to that bar tonight. She told me it was fine and that they all didn’t mind paying for another night at the hotel they were all at if it got to that point, which I thought was a relief. After this, I looked at my radio clock and it read “11:57PM”. I understandably thought it was a little too late, and I decided to look for hotels to rent at. I found this nice little hotel, which I obviously can’t state the name of, but all I can say is that it had a low rate, and it wasn’t crowded. I immediately thought it was a steal, especially for the night. I decided to enter the parking lot and park my car. I put on my coat, because it was damn cold outside, and got my suitcase and wallet. I paid the front desk lady the rent, and I got a place on the fourth floor. I started walking to the elevator, and I remembered a feeling from something I have always loved about hotels: the clean, industrial smell and the hum of fluorescent lights. This hotel wasn’t that old, but it wasn’t exactly the newest. Sorry, I guess it’s just the details I love about places.
Anyway, I got into the elevator and pressed the fourth-floor button. The click from pressing it was really satisfying, like a click you’d hear on a typewriter when you press down a key. The usual beep, door-close, and the ascension made me think this was going to be yet another normal night. The door opened, and I headed to my room. 415. It was on the right of another room, so it meant I was going to hear someone else during my stay. Of course, it was 10 after midnight, so my only priority was to place down my suitcase, take off my uncomfortable clothes, and head into a white, clean bed. There was nothing unusual, and I’m still surprised the following happened. I suddenly woke up after I heard something.
I can’t remember the sound, but all I remember is that it was loud enough that I woke up. I remember glancing up to a digital clock on the bedside, and it read “2:12AM”. I shifted onto my back, and with my room door in sight, I decided to take a glance on it. My eyes darted from the texture, from the eye hole, down to the light peeking into my room from the bottom. I noticed a few shadows, like someone was in a huge panic. I wasn’t worried, because if this was just somebody drunk out of their mind, it wouldn’t pose any danger to me. I wasn’t worried until I heard a knock. Then another knock. Then until it sounded like somebody was trying to kick down my door. I had heard what sounded like a lock being broke, and that was a trigger for me to get under the bed. I had grabbed my wallet and phone, and hid down there like I was in a trench.
It wasn’t even five seconds after I had gotten under the bed until this random person successfully kicked down the door. I couldn’t get any face details, but I was able to see the shadow of a woman through a light from when she kicked down the door. After taking a few steps forward, she yelled, asking where I was. She threw down the mini fridge from a cabinet, along with the TV. Before she threw down the TV, my heart dropped. I don’t have the best vision, and it’s not to the point where I don’t need glasses, but I saw the shape of a firearm, with the glare of a TV screen. I knew if I even made a sound, even as much as a shuffle to reposition, I’d be dead quick. I wasn’t sure about what else happened, but I heard a few grunts out of anger, until she decided to sit down on the bed next to where I was. I could see up to her knee, and she had shoes that I feel like I recognized. From the silence of three minutes, I traced the shoes and the voice back to my psycho ex-step-mom who made my dad’s life hell the previous few months before then. The more I thought about it, the more the dots connected. I was terrified. It felt like I was going to throw up, but I resisted the urge of gagging as to make a sound. What made me scared even more is that she wasn’t doing anything for a few minutes, she was just sitting down, occupied with.. something. I don’t know what it was, but I was horrified, and I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. I checked my phone and the clock said “2:21”. I was surprised it had been only 9 minutes.
After what felt like several hours, a few staff, along with a police officer, ran into the room and disabled my ex-step-mom. I was relieved, and I asked if I could come out. They said yes, and I emerged from underneath the bed. After the police officer walked my step mom to what I presume was the police car, the staff asked me a few questions. I basically told them what I’ve wrote here so far, heh. A few months later, we did find out that it was my old step mom, which I guess was a form of closure. I had texted my aunt that morning about everything, and they sent me ‘hugs and prayers’ and the like. It’s been a year since it’s happened, because today is Thanksgiving, but I doubt I’ll be renting a room at hotels ever again.
Also, I’m sorry for not being a better writer. I’d just rather not have this in the constraints of a notepad, but getting it out publicly.