You Are Here

The air still held the remnants of the past rain, it was the sort of humidity that would soak you to the bone and leave you feeling like you'd never be dry again. But it was significantly cooler than it had been before the rain. It was a daily thing in the summer, almost unbearable heat then an ungodly downpour that led into a cool and pleasant afternoon. The sun was on it's way to the western horizon and the once thick, grey clouds had left behind light airy white clouds that were few and far between.

Keegan was smoking up a storm. I couldn't fathom how he was still alive with all of the packs he went through in a day. He had smoked so much in the hour that it had rained that the smoke was curling under my door and into my room. My room was already a stuffy box filled with stale air. The moment the rain stopped I grabbed a book on Greece and nearly sprinted to the 'garden' behind the Inn. It was a lovely garden, at least to me. All of the plants were dead or nearly there due to the harsh Carolina clay but even so I liked to pretend that it was a tropical oasis filled with Birds of Paradise and palm trees. The vivid greens and purples, it would be stunning if it could leave my imagination. Instead of luscious plants there was a semi-rotten bench. My fathers handiwork. It faced the back of the Inn so the setting sun could warm my back. I put my feet up on the half dug up stump and poured over Greece. All of the beaches, the food, the sea.

There was an entire section dedicated to the Iliad. An entire war started over a beautiful woman.The magnitude of peoples greed was astounding. I wanted to be beautiful enough to start a war. A face that could launch a million ships would be warmly welcomed. If I could wake up and just be that beautiful, that worth someones time and effort and love that'd just be okay. Regardless of how fantastic the Iliad seamed I preferred solid facts. The real history of countries and the people who lived wonderful lives there. All that has happened makes me want to set the world on fire - do something big and marvelous.

"These are covered in ash." Keegan was standing in front of me, holding a pile of perfectly folded towels with a neat pile of ash in the center. We both knew it was his and we both knew he had done it on purpose. The towels seemed so small in his hands, like he had run out of bigger things to mess up. I stuck out my hand to grab them and he dropped them into the dirt at my feet. Are you kidding me? How childish of him. Why would he ever do that? It was so stupid of him. "You might want to wash the towels before you leave them in my room." His words were stern and he stared me down with his big green eyes. It was hard to look away and it was hard to keep looking. He had a devilish grin that made me forget what I needed to say. All words were caught it my throat. I just sat mouth agate. After a moment he turned and stalked off inside probably to mess up my bedroom or pour paint thinner on the front porch.

Once my thoughts recollected I picked up the dirty towels and set them beside me. Keegan was being a major pain in my side. Getting in my way whenever I needed to do something then making sure my work was ten times harder than it needed to be. Hadn't his mother taught him better than to treat people like this? Especially a girl like this. It was unacceptable. He kept throwing his linens outside of his room in a matted heap on the floor. Leaving a rotting piles of dishes underneath his bed. I shouldn't have to put up with all of this. I shouldn't have to be his slave. I shouldn't have to do anything for him at all. I stood up and threw the damned towels toward the house in a rage. "I WON'T!" My scream shocked me but I was too angry to stop. "I WON'T I WON'T I WON'T!" I turned and kicked over the stupid rotting bench. I just started screaming. Not words just the sound. I could feel the blood in my face and the tears swelling up behind my eyes.

Warms hands were shaking my shoulders. "Oliver! Oliver Stuart King!" My mother sat me down on the tree stump and smacked me clear across the face. "Oliver Stuart King you stop your damned belly aching right now do you hear me?" She shoved the dirty towels in my lap and took a step back. Her apron was well on it's way to becoming a giant pile of flower and her hair was a mess. I didn't know what she did to make it like that, not like there was even anything for her to do. "It would do you a world of good to never scream like that again. Do you hear me?" I looked down at the ground hoping it would swallow me up and never let me out. "I said do you hear me?" She grabbed my chin and pulled it close to her face. Forcing me to look straight into her eyes. I nodded against her palm and she let go. I could still feel her fingers against my face. "Now it would be best if you got up off your lazy butt, put those into the wash and make up two rooms. We have guests and you're busy making a scene." She grabbed the hem of her skirt and hustled back into the house huffing a puffing about this and that.

I grabbed up the beyond dirty towels and my book and headed inside. The lovely afternoon had been ruined by Keegan being an awful person and my mother being unobservant. I opened my arms and closed my eyes. "Achilles take me away!" I waited for the skies to split in two and suck me up but nothing happened. I let my arms fall to my sides and slipped inside through the dirty sliding door.

The laundry room was a tiny broom closet of a room. There was one washer and one dryer. they both made wretched noises all through the night. I shoved the dirty towels in the washer and jammed the start button. I sat up on top of the dryer and crossed my arms. I didn't want to deal with any more guests if they were anything like Keegan. I could barely deal with with my parents and Keegan much less new people who were probably just as loud and rude. I could hear my mother shouting up and down the halls for me. Using my full name. Ever since Keegan arrived she had been skipping over Oliver King and going straight to Oliver Stuart King. It was normally how I knew I was in deep trouble but now it was just a sign to pretend that I was invisible.

I jumped off of the dryer and followed my mother to the two rooms I was supposed to turn down. A fresh, hopefully, ash free set of sheets and towels in my arms. I dropped the sheets on the bed and forced the windows open. There was a soft breeze that helped remove all of the stale air. Making two queen beds by yourself was a difficult task, especially when you were still angry. But by God, you could always bounce a quarter off my sheets. I had left the door open to create a cross breeze so Keegan calmly strolled in and plopped down on top of my freshly made bed. It was ruined. I would have to start over completely.

I was beyond the point of holding back tears I let them fall freely and I just sat down onto the floor and held my knees to my chest. He was awful. Hadn't he done enough to me today? Why couldn't I just be left alone. "Oliver?" His voice was soft and tender. Not mocking or rude. He sounded unsure of himself.

"Just get away from me!" I shouted at him and he heard me. He actually left me alone in an empty room to cry to myself. I didn't want to be nice to him, he didn't deserve it. I didn't want to be pleasant to my parents they had been busting my chops for days now and I didn't want to deal with them. I just wanted to be teleported to wherever I was reading about. Everyone was making my life so much harder than it had to be and I hated it. I hated dealing with people I couldn't talk to.



The new guests walked in when I was having my sob fest. I was a right ugly crier; my face swells up and my eyes get as bloodshot as a prize winning tomato. When they actually walked in on me, I was at the point where the salty tears were gone and I was left with the hiccups and the dry sobbing. I was past the point of crying over Keegan and my parents, I was crying about everything. The flood gates had been opened.

A man and who I assumed was his wife walked in gripping their children by the hands, then they slowly back out of the room. He was a short man with a bald spot on the very top of his head and a beer belly so big he could pass for a pregnant woman. He wore a Hawaiian print shirt, knee length shorts, and man saddles. His wife was just about as short as him and as thin as a rail. She had on capris, a strappy tank top and platform flip flops. They looked like they were on vacation from a beach in the 90's. Though I really had no place to talk about fashion.

Back before the Inn had fully flopped my parents had made a bunch of shirts for the staff. They were Polos with the Inn's name embroidered over the chest pocket. Having at least ten made in all the sizes really put them back when they should have been making sure all of the piping wouldn't freeze in the winter and that every room had an air conditioning unit or at least a fan. Having no where to go and no one to impress I usually wore a Polo with shorts, or pants if it was December. The plain white really washed out my skin and the plain red was too close of a color to my hair so I rarely wore it. But I never had anyone to see or anywhere to go so it wasn't too important.

I pulled myself off of the floor and dried my eyes the best I could. I snuck into the bathroom to wash my face off and stared at myself in the mirror. It had a layer of filth over it that days of scrubbing and drums of Windex wouldn't remove, but I could still see the unhappy person staring back at me. Dull red hair that was sticking out in every direction, dull lifeless eyes and washed out skin. Even though I spent hours outside doing hard work I could never tan. I had inherited my fathers pale skin which meant SPF 100 or else I would be peeling for the rest of my life. I was tired of looking at this person, seeing the same sad reflection in every mirror. I had to do something about this, I had to get out.

I had to leave this washed up, barely a town and I had to leave as soon as possible. I had to stop being that girl. I had to let go of everything holding me here. I had to stop being me.