K A I T L Y N
The feel of small knives repeatedly stabbing against my temple woke me from my slumber.
A groan slips past my dry, cracked lips as I unconsciously lick them moist while peeling my eyes open. Blurred objects fill my vision as I blink repeatedly, everything starting to clear up. I took note that I was lying on my side and from the corner of my eyes, I register an unfamiliar brown side-table and a white-coated door on the far end. Confusions wash through my system, fueling my movements as I slowly sit— instantly hissing when the throbbing against my skull intensifies.
I gingerly lift a hand to my head, urging the headache away as my eyes sweep across my surroundings; taking note of the bed I laid upon, a flat-screen hung up on the wall in front of me with the presence of two paintings on either side of it. A small fridge with the company of a microwave on top of it was placed in the corner of the room against the cream-colored wall.
I frown, massaging my temple with two fingers, fully sitting up while I continue to gaze around.
’This isn’t my. . . I don’t think. .′ my thoughts scattered across my brain with no direct fluid.
I slowly drift my eyes from the bottom of the bed, which was covered in a thin sheet that laid across my body. My eyes widen as I take in my naked form, my nïpples standing to attention as my mind finally registers the coolness that articulates in the air from the AC.
Scrambling to cover my bare chest with the flimsy bed covering, my senses now became more alert, forgetting about the tightness in my skull. I scan the room with a new vision, to decipher where I was while racking my brain for previous events of how I needed up where I am.
With a heavy hurt fueled with anxiousness, I continue to search around the room for any sign of the location I’m withheld in. Off to my side where the bedside table resided, there lied a card with writing on it, leaning over, the coolness of the room raises the hairs on my arm as my fingertips brush along the card’s edge before I slide it near me: taking it in my hand and reading the printed words.
Need any assistance?
Dial the front office. More Information
Contact us at 1-800-Days-Inn
My gaze draws away from the printed letters and toward the window, the large structure blocked by black-out curtains, through the parted seams of its material I peer out into the world, my eyes clashing with the hotel’s welcome sign. Again, my conscious tries to reel back to the leading events until now, pressing further into the depths of my mind I’m only greeted with a blank slate, the last of my memories stuck at the arrival at the club.
Stuck at a roadblock, I rub my forehead in frustration and somewhat a sense of fear. My attire gave off the obvious acts of what I’ve committed to, with the headache still present, my mind was far from conjuring the loss of my maiden-hood my thoughts soon interrupted by my bladder with the notion to release its contents.
Scooting to the edge of the bed until my feet hung off the sides, I drag the sheets along with me, keeping them pressed to my against my chest: my feet touch the hard details of the carpet as I stand to my full height. An unforeseen pain shoots from the valleys between my legs, causing my knees to buck beneath me. I hold myself up with the help of the nightstand, breathing deeply, the pain was unfamiliar and odd, the sudden urge to peek probes at my mind.
Shaking away the sensation, I focus on the tasks at hand.
“One step at a time. . .” I whisper to myself.
I ease myself to my feet once again, and take slow steps to the door on my right, which I assumed was the bathroom. Pushing the door ajar, the room is blanketed in darkness, its contents unknown and with my free hand, I fumble along the wall near the door’s frame; in search of the switch. The structure strikes my fingers and at the discovery, I flip it upward.
A blinding light radiates the room, stinging painfully at my eyes as I blink multiple times before I adjust to it. The bathroom was simple and everything crammed together, a sink was settled next to the door stationed beneath a wide mirror and off the back of the room a bath and showered resided. Not dwelling on it for a moment longer than I already have, I rush to the toilet, letting the sheet fall free and relieve myself.
After I finish, I flush and walk toward the sink, my reflection accumulating from the mirror. I find a spare toothbrush, turning the tap and coating the bristles with water before spreading a line of toothpaste from the travel-size pack. Brushing my teeth, I stare at myself through the planes of the glass. My hair was a mess, strands, and fly-aways sticking out of place, not sure if it was from sleep or the intercourse with the unknown male.
Lastly brushing my teeth, I duck down and rinsing my mouth with the running water, spotting the remnants of the paste. To keep my thoughts and worries from overwhelming me completely, I put my full focus on washing my face as I place the toothbrush off to the side and cup my hands together, collecting water. I let the water droplets travel along my features, the air settling a coolness over my face as I shut my eyes, leaning forward on the sinks’ counter.
‘It is going to be okay,’ I tell myself, ‘It’s not that bad. . .’
Opening my eyes, I sigh and reach behind me for a face towel, drying my face. Stepping toward the toilet, I bend down and gather the sheet once more, wrapping myself in its coverage and away from the cold that circled the room. It was around the time I was about to exit that I notice something on my neck, the glimpse of red catching my attention.
Moving away from the threshold of the door, I take a closer look at my reflection, shifting all my hair over to one side of my shoulder.
"Mon Dieu. . .”
[oh, my god]
Two small holes were located where my shoulder and neck met, the area around the impaled skin bright red and beginning to bruise with dried blood around the perimeter. Shock disperses through my system, my gaze lingering on the mutilation. They were unexplainable and I couldn’t think of how I could have gotten them as I still could not remember what had happened the previous night.
I shake my head, leaning against the sink corner before my thoughts conjure back to Maddie. With anew determination, I leave the bathroom, searching for my belongings.
I bounce my knee nervously, my head tilted to the side as her fingers graze along the holes. The action shoots a zing of nerves, pain causing me to jerk in place. Her hands leave the surface at the act resulted from me, a small apology leaving her lips.
“What do you think it is?” I ask Maddie, uprighting my head.
Her eyebrows crease together, a thoughtful look on her face before it vanished. “A vampire?” she cracks a smile.
I groan, rising from the toilet and living to the bathroom’s mirror. “Maddie, this isn’t the time to joke around, I’m being serious right now,” I tell her, reaching up and touching the rising holes with my fingers, the texture of it rough and sensitive.
It was then after I arrived at the apartment complex that I called Maddie, who was already in a freaked-out state. She claimed she called my phone a million times, my whereabouts unknown to her just before she left the club— unfortunately for her, my phone was dead and wasn’t charged until I arrived at my building. Heaving a breath, I drop my hand down to my side with a slap, shaking my hair back in place.
She frowns up at me, taking my spot on the toilet’s lid. “I’m sorry, I was trying to cheer you up a little,” she utters, eyes twinkling sympathetically. “You don’t seem like yourself right now, that’s all, are you okay?” she asks.
I run a hand through my hair, releasing another heavy breath. “I’m fine. It’s just that I can’t remember what happened,” I stress, furrowing my eyebrows.
I felt her hands on my shoulder, moving me away from the door and back to my door on the toilet where she soon sunk to her knees in between my legs as I continue, “There’s something in the back of my head telling me I should. . . Je ne sais pas. .”
[I don’t know]
“It’s okay Kaitlyn, you don’t need to strain yourself. It is perfectly normal, give it time, to were drunk at the time,” she tells me, moving hair from my face.
I bob my head, taking her words in before locking my fingers behind my head then lowering them between my legs. We sat for a minute in silence while I tried to collect my thoughts and keep myself from rising to a panic attack. My deep breathing was all that was heard, the wheels of my mind trying to place a face to the stranger, his presence still felt on my being and leaving an imprint in my mind.
“You know how I told you I woke up in a hotel room?” I suddenly say.
Her agreement vibrates through the air and I take that to proceed with my words. My fingers twisting together.
“What I didn’t tell you, was that I woke up naked and alone.”
I felt her shock and sudden realization. Lifting my head, I stare into her bright green eyes.
“Maddie, I lost my virginity to a stranger.” I whisper, “It’s all my fault.”