I want to get as far away from my old life as possible. One night here, and then I’m going to keep on driving. One thing I know for sure is that I need to keep moving. It was a scary thought, especially under the circumstances. I always knew exactly what I was going to do, and how I was going to do it. I have five thousand dollars saved, a growing belly, and no clue what the hell I’m going to do.
As I munch on the cut fruit I contemplate my life. Reaching inside, I decide on a piece of apple. Placing them neatly in the corner, I pull out a plastic container and open the lid. I put my bag on the couch and take off my sandals.
A small bathroom, a couch, a bed, a fridge, and a TV. Unlocking the door, I walk in and check out the room. Inside are my toiletries, clothes, and a few valuables-including my purse, passport, and food. The bored-looking girl at the counter hands me my key, then I drag my feet to my room, taking one bag with me. I check in at reception, paying for one night and trying not to stare at the mold on the wall. I’d have thought sixty dollars would have gotten me a better room than this, but I was wrong. I find humor in awkward situations and try to make the most of my life.īut I guess there’s a first time for everything, because here I am, tail between my legs, feeling more than sorry for myself. I have a strong will, and I’m not afraid to open my mouth and say what’s on my mind. I need to be one, with the parents I was given and the career I want in the future. I normally consider myself a strong woman. I STARE at the old motel in apprehension, taking in its brown brick exterior and dirty windows.įeeling sorry for myself is a foreign concept.
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