.....I began picking up my pace. Nothing else ever seemed as important as it was to find a warm bed now.


CHAPTER 2

     As I opened the door to that Comfort Inn, I realized that this was going to be the first night in a long while without Father. The first night in months that I wouldn't have to see Father's smug little grin plastered across his face. I walked up to the concierge. He was a young man, he could have been anywhere between eighteen to twenty-two. He had long, blond hair that curled up at the ends. He was fit, too. I could see the hint of muscles under his uniformly red shirt. He looked up when he herd the bell on the door ring. He smiled at me, a cute, crooked boyish smile.
     "Hello," I smiled, "How much is it a night?"
     "Ninety Dollars, Miss. But may I ask how old you are?" he said with a wink. I decided that I could use him to my advantage. I quickly batted my lashes and leaned a little closer.
     "It doesn't matter, because I couldn't ever afford a night," I said in a silky voice. I leaned in a little closer, to give him a good look down my revealing V-neck blouse. He leaned in closer also, close enough that I could whisper in his ear.
     "Do you think you could help a girl out?" I asked, still in my sexiest voice. He smiled again.
     "You do know I could lose my job if I did that, right?" He teased. I grabbed his forearm and squeezed gently.
     "That's too bad, because I would let you come up and visit whenever you wanted." Once again, he smiled a goofy grin. This was just too easy.
     "I'll go get you a key Ms. -" he beckoned.
     "Jane. You can call me Jane," I answered swiftly.
     "Here you are Jane. Don't be afraid to call down here is you need anything," he paused, then winked, "anything at all. It’s Room 219 Miss."
     I swiftly grabbed the keys. I don't think he would be so attracted to me if he saw the bruises underneath the make-up and long-sleeves. He never would get a call from Room 219; I didn't want to see another male for the next twenty years, at least.
     The room was exceptionally plain. A big bed, it had to have been a full size, or possibly a queen. It had two big, fluffy pillows. The walls were the same watercolor design that every hotel room in America had; the pastel pink and green smears. There was a TV, and a very sad excuse for a writing desk in the corner. It was made out of plywood, and in an attempt to make it look like real wood, it was covered in wood-patterned veneer that was peeling at the corners.
     I looked at the bed again. It was much too early to be going to sleep, despite how tired I was. I looked into the bathroom; the tub looked perfect there in the sunlight room. Yes, tonight I was going to take a nice hot bath. I placed my bag on the sink, and then locked the hotel room door and then pranced into the bathroom, locking it also.
     The bathroom had a gold and white theme. The walls had white, vertically striped wallpaper with thin, golden stripes in-between. I kicked off my Chuck-Taylor converse first. My feet were dirty from walking through the forest all day. I then slipped off my old black jacket. I was fairly surprised at the deep purple of my bruises. I looked at my pants, I hadn't since I put them on yesterday morning. It looked like I had a long cut along my thigh because I was bleeding. Wait a minute... I mentally checked the date. Nope, it was just my menstrual cycle. The concierge was definitely not getting a call from me now.
     I kicked of my pants in a tantrum-like motion that made me giggle a little. I threw my pants into the corner, along with the pink panties that used to be my favorite. I turned on the hot water; as hot as I could stand it, and then let the tub fill up. I took off my blue shirt, folded it neatly, and then placed it into my bag. I took out a brush form my bag and started to untangle my hair, still wet from my walk through the forest. I looked in the mirror for the first time then; I was amazed at how normal I looked. Besides the bruises on my arm, I had done fairly well at covering them all this morning.
     I stopped brushing my hair, and then began to slink my way into the tub. I put my feet in first; the water was so warm. It was the kind of warmth that you got while laying out in the sun during a hot day in June. The rest of my body followed  into the water just the same. The water was so warm, so safe. Sweet, sweet safety. It felt great just to be out of Father's house, no matter how bad my injuries were. I had three months left of him, and then I would be eighteen; free and young. But that wasn't soon enough. It felt great to be on my own.
     The warm water started soothing away the pain of my broken ribs. I turned off the faucet, golden against the ivory of the tub, and then descended into the water, letting it wet my hair, and warm my cheeks. I lifted my head just enough to let myself breath. I closed my eyes for a moment before I started to wash the dirt, and memories, off my pale skin.

Part Four Posted.
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