Angelica sat across from an older man in a coffee shop. She looked out the window, seeing the old and dirty hotel, and her nerves took over as she felt nervous. The endless possibilities of what could or would happen in room thirteen were nerve-wracking. The older man caught her distressed state and tried comforting her.
"Don't worry, Angelica, my crew, will be in room fourteen watching everything this man does. We'll get his name, description, and everything else. It's only a matter of time before he put him away forever."
Angelica nodded, "I know, I am just scared of what will happen."
"If he does anything that makes you uncomfortable — anything that sends off a red flag — scream."
Angelica nodded, and they walked over to the dirty hotel.
Angelica's nerves grew until they poured out like a volcano. She stood outside room fourteen and peeked inside, seeing uniformed men setting up hidden cameras. She took a deep breath and initially felt better as she stepped out and saw her dad.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine. We'll make sure you're all right." Her father hugged her too tight for her liking. His hand reached her lower back, and she moved away, breaking the embrace.
"Thanks dad," she forced a smile, "I'll be okay." She hoped but doubted anything significant would come out of the mission.
She entered room thirteen and closed the door. She took her bag and undressed, putting on a long dress and sneakers; she then braided her hair. Angelica smiled at her angelic expression; it was nostalgic. Memories flooded her head, some good, the rest wrong. She thought back to a few weeks ago when her insomnia came back, and her brain brought back her urge to binge eat, and it was his fault. Angelica remembered it clearly as a young girl.
The memories still haunt her.
Angelica shook her memories away and stored them at the back of her mind, forgetting their existence. She hid her bag under the bed and sat at the edge of the bed, wondering why her father was a police officer and why she had to help him catch a criminal. Angelica felt odd posing as a thirteen-year-old when she is really twenty-three.
Angelica felt the cold wire taped to her chest but did nothing as there was a knock at the door. The young woman took a deep breath, feeling her father's presence, and opened the door. There was a man that looked like he was in his early thirties.
"Hello, are you Amanda?" the man's wicked grin posed as an innocent smile.
No deceit was shown, but Angelica knew better.
She smiled back, feeling superior because the man was in for a surprise. "Yes, I am. Come in."
He closed the door behind him and sat down at the desk chair as she took her seat at the edge of the bed. The man rummaged through his pants pocket and handed her a charm bracelet.
"This is for you," he grinned ear to ear as she observed the all pink charm bracelet. One of the charms was of a heart inside another heart. However, it sent off red flags as the same heart symbol was on his blazer, pinned tightly without making a crease.
"Thank...you. Thank you. I love it," Angelica held the bracelet close to her chest.
He smiled. "So, tell me about yourself — other than you being thirteen and all," he licked his lips.
Angelica shivered in disgust, but was stoic in expression, "Well, I like to dance..." she lied. "I hope to be a professional one day, but my parents say that I won't make a living as a dancer."
"Well, I think you should do what pleases you and not let greed fill your head. It isn't all about the money."
She smiled, "Really?"
He smiled, "So, you dance?" She nodded. "Why don't you dance for me?"
"Dance? There isn't any room."
"Oh, a little dance should suffice," the man grinned.
Angela's memories came back, and she felt angry.
"Well, dancers don't wear dresses. Why don't you take that off?"
"Take it off?"
The man nodded, his demeanor changed as his wicked grin showed vividly now; no friendliness detected. "Go on, take it off!" he growled.
Angelica stiffened at the change of his tone, but she expected it to happen at one point. She stood up as the charm bracelet found a spot on the floor. She looked down and tugged the end of her dress. Angelica posed just like any girl scared to reveal herself, but what really scared her was the blood-curling screech that escaped her mouth. Never has she heard anything as scary than the sound of her own scream.