If you looked closely enough, just passed the stand of trees and the passed the rust eaten truck, you’d see a small motel. A motel with as little as ten rooms and a bored receptionist, chewing gum and reading the latest issue of People. She smacks her gum and flips the page, unaware. There’s also a boy—a young boy whom can’t be much older than twenty. He walks with hollowness and shivers with insecurities.

In his left hand he carries a brown paper bag and in his right is a twenty pound note. It was just enough for one night and one night was all he needed. One night to decide and one night to finish it.

It was seconds before that bored receptionist escorted him up a rickety set of stairs and paused. That was the moment when this boy decided that whichever way she led him was the answer to his fate. His whole life laid in the mind of a brainless teen with a bored mind and a lifetime of mistakes. If she chose right he would do the right thing and finally satisfy his craving. With a small step, she pulled out a key with the number 1. He glanced at the door and saw that the door in front of him was 6 and only got smaller as they walked to the right.

To some he might look nervous, maybe he might have looked scared but right now, in that precise moment, he felt that everyone finally made sense. Even this girl that he’s never met or seen held something so powerful within her and she didn’t even realize it.

Inside was exactly as he expected. The walls were closing in on him and tightening their grip around his throat. The door was suddenly closed and all was left was a lifeless room and a lifeless person, the only thing holding them to mortality was a small string, ready to be snapped.

The bed squeaked and cried. The lamp flickered on and off. The curtains danced and fluttered. His glazed over eyes scanned the room, landing upon the brown paper bag. Carefully, with cautious hands, he unwrapped the top and all that was left was cold, hard metal. It was almost poetic how everything had panned out. That his fate was in the hands of a stranger and now fate was delivering.

With the barrel pressed against the throbbing veins in his neck, goosebumps spotted all over his body, his fingers grazed the trigger. And deep in that room, you could feel it, this pulsing and banging—the heart of the room was on fire, and hell was taking it’s toll.
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