At half past nine the sun was flooding the small, sparsely furnished bedroom of a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere. Paint was chipping around brown water stains on the ceiling and the tacky wallpaper (probably dating all the way back to the fifties) was rotting and pealing away from the walls it belonged to, but that hadn’t deterred the sole occupant of the little room when she stumbled into bed the night before. In fact, she had barely glanced at the room before flopping down on the bed and pulling the cover over herself, sneakers and all. The last three days had been nothing but travel, long, hard travel and she was exhausted. Having been asleep for nearly eleven hours, the girl finally stirred, her body slowly thawing from the cold night as the sun practically seeped into her skin. She sighed and stretched like a cat, yawning before peaking one eye open and looking around. For a moment, a brief moment, she forgot where she was. She sat up and looked around, listening to the world around her. After a second or two, she let out a relieved breath as she heard her friend snoring in the next room over.
With a smile, she got out of bed, forcing the thought of what had been in or on that mattress before herself out of her mind as she headed for the bathroom, grabbing her duffle bag on the way out. The sound of a shower running came through the rickety door along with every other line of a song she couldn’t remember all of the words to as she sang over the sound of the water (out of key) a little too loudly. She paid no attention to how long she showered, not this morning. Today she was determined to relax, enjoy herself and rest. That plan began with a nice long shower. When she finally finished washing, she stood before the mirror above the sink and frowned. The color in her hair was fading out, washing out from the roots. She’d need to pick up a new box of dye to refresh it. She remained in the bathroom long enough to dry her hair, brush her teeth, and dress before coming out and heading for the living room. To the best of her knowledge, and what she could remember from the night before, they were in a little town called Yorketown in Virginia. How long they would be here, she couldn’t say. Maybe a week, maybe a day, if they were very lucky they could even stay a month, but that was unlikely. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the two bedrooms, wondering when her companion would wake but having no desire to wake him herself. He was probably even more tired than she. It was only because of him that they were able to make it here. Her eyes wandered the walls of the room, over the fireplace and old furniture. She couldn’t help wondering why the house had been abandoned. It seemed perfectly fine to her. It was strange, too, that so much furniture and decor had been left behind.
Her curiosity was getting the better of her and she began rummaging through old drawers and closets, looking for any information that might have been left behind about the family that had lived here. Not much had been left behind, but she did manage to find an old family album that had been kept in a table drawer near the sofa. It must have been forgotten in the move. She took the book and curled up in a corner of the couch, slowly looking over each photograph with a slow, detailed inspection of the faces on each page. Every now and then she’d trace the features of one or another in the family, all the while her mind was going back in her memory, thinking of her own family and where they were now. It had been nearly three months since she had seen her father or uncle, even longer since...she cleared her throat and turned another page, forcing the thoughts away. The album was thick, nearly four inches and there were many notes and mementos stuck in the folds and crevices of the book. Finally, she closed the cover, gently rubbing a hand over the smooth surface. A part of her felt as though she had been spying on secret moments not meant for her to see. Returning the book to its proper place, the girl stood and stretched her arms, glancing down at her stomach as it growled hungrily. |
