Genevieve awoke to a car headlight that pierced through her dreamless sleep, Lazily forcing her eyes open, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. Her belongings were all piled on the floor beside the bed, where she had dumped them on her arrival to her room. She peered over at the table in the corner; the clock ticked loudly, its red letters announcing the time: 02:17.
The blanket under her was wrinkled from her restless sleep, and Genevieve went to pull it around herself. The bed, neatly made, refused to relinquish the blanket. Genevieve pulled, the blanket yanked her down. Her struggle with the sheets was a tangle of hands and legs knotted up in bedding. Eventually, shimmying her way under the covers, Genevieve kicked her legs up, at last freeing the sheets from the grasp of the bed frame. Wrapping it around herself, she sat up, gazing out the floor to ceiling window she neglected to shutter before falling asleep. Outside was pitch black, save the occasional car zooming past the motel. It was eerily silent, as Genevieve strained her ears, she could hear the soft droning of the heater. As she stared out the window, a million thoughts ran through her head. She was alone. Truly and purely alone in the world. There was a gnawing feeling in her heart, accompanied by a heavy feeling in her stomach.
"Ugh." She moaned, falling back onto the bed. There was a reason she came to this town. Escaping that never ending feeling of something eating away at her was Genevieve's priority. It was the only reason she came to Lyderwood. This town had something for her. She felt a kinship to it, to its history. Maybe she could find peace here.
Genevieve fell back into her slumber, comforted to sleep by the knot in her stomach.
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The second time Genevieve woke up was from another feeling in her stomach, hunger.
This time, the morning light flooding into the room gave her a jolt into wakefulness. She dug through her unpacked suitcase for something to wear. Rummaging through her stuff, she dug out a notebook. It was an old leather bound light brown notebook. There was an engraving on the front; "To Gen, Love Mama. I know how much you love your notebooks." The notebook was clearly well loved. Some corners of the pages were dog eared, the pages were darkened, the spine broken and weathered. Genevieve ran her fingers along the engraving and gently placed the book on her bed. She dressed herself, rushing to brush her teeth and go down to breakfast.
Waiting for the elevator, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. The hallway window was open, blowing in the cool air. Genevieve took a deep breath to inhale the fresh morning.
"Morning!"
Genevieve opened her eyes.
Beside her stood a girl. The wind from the window was blowing lightly through her light red hair. Freckles were scattered haphazardly across her face, complimenting her dark grey eyes. She wore a pink pleated mini skirt and a lace tank top which loosely draped around her small torso.
"How are you not cold?" Genevieve blinked. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this forward."
"Oh, no worries." The girl laughed softly. "I don't really get cold. I don't know, genetics. I'm Camila." She jumped on Genevieve, wrapping her arms around Genevieve's neck.
"Oh!" Reluctantly, Genevieve returned the hug.
Camila pulled away. "Not a big hugger?"
"Not really my thing." Genevieve blushed. "Sorry."
The elevator dinged, and the two women stepped in. The ride down was awkward: they exchanged small smiles and finished out the ride in silence.
Upon arriving at the dining area Genevieve was immediately accosted by Irene.
"Hey, new kid! Come sit with us." She gestured at the chair beside Oliver.
Genevieve rolled her eyes, yet strolled over to the table.
"What's on the agenda for today?" She inquired of her companions as she sat.
"Oh, you know." Replied Oliver.
"No, I don't. That's why I asked." Genevieve turned to Irene. "Irene?"
"Not everyone is anal retentive about their schedule, Genevieve."
Irene laughed, gently patting Oliver's arm in consolation.
"We're not sure what the day will bring. Who knows where we will end up by dinner time. We might hit the town. Care to join us?" They both turned inquisitively at Genevieve, and she felt a light rush of goosebumps on the nape of her neck.
"Maybe not today. Some other time?"
"Any time you want, we would love to get to know you better." Irene smiled. "What is your plan for the day?"
Genevieve sat back in her seat.
"I think I'll take a walk."