Motel Emails

So we crashed. Useful. Beth’s eyelids started to droop and she just sort of let go of the wheel. We almost hit another car, and we almost ended up in a ditch, but colliding with a couple of rubbish bins and coming to a stop just before hitting a wall was enough to wake the driver up.

“I’m fine, really. I don’t know what happened.” She kept saying, but Aidan and some of the others on the Bus insisted that we stop. Soon the repair trucks came and we were pulled to a motel.

“We’ll stop here for a bit,” someone announced, “Just lodge three to a room. The bus shouldn’t be too long.”

“We could just get another bus,” I grumbled as we stepped out into the harsh sunlight, “We did for the last two buses.”

Aidan smiled lovingly down at me, “I think we probably need the rest. I have some emails to send anyway. Come on.”

We settled down in the lobby, where there were a couple of odd-white stuffed sofas for me (and others from the bus who didn’t want a room yet) to slouch down onto, and Aidan zoomed straight to the nearest PC. I whipped out my mobile. I noticed it needed charging; the last battery bar symbol was red, but I made a mental note to do it later. Do they have chargers and sockets on the bus?

Flicking through the contacts, I reached the one that said ‘mother’ and pressed call, before switching to loudspeaker and placing the handset close by my ear.

I was greeted with the strange, automated, feminine voice: ‘Your call cannot be taken right now, please leave a message after the tone.’ Then followed by a high-pitched beep. I frowned. So she missed one call- maybe the TV’s on loud or something- it’s nothing big. Yet, why couldn’t I stop the scared feeling that was spreading all around my body. Snapping the flip-up shut, I wandered over to the older man sitting behind the computer.


“Hmm?” he mused, tapping away at the keyboard.

“I’m worried about my mother. It’s not like her to leave her phone off…”

Aidan turned and raised his eyebrows at me. “It’s not like you to get worried about your mother.”

“It’s-it’s just…” Jeez how am I gonna tell him about my out-of-body experience? He’d never believe that! …Or would he now? I mean, he’s been through the same little red bus as me…

“Please don’t think I’m crazy…but when I was unconscious, I had…a vision. I saw my mother but she was…I dunno…different. She was terrible and…” And she claimed I was terrible too. But I couldn’t say that out loud.

Aidan stood up for a minute and pulled me into a soft hug. “Nothing’s wrong with your mother, okay? It’s all going to be fine.”

“But it wasn’t just that. Other people too said…” By then, I was close to tears with worry, “And what if she-she’s wondering where I am…”

“We’d still be on the trip. Your mother isn’t worrying and neither should you be.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. Aidan turned back to his email and began typing again.

“I’ll be with you soon, but right now, go and find someone to chat to for a bit. I recon they’ll probably have some sort of wonderful tale to tell.”

I looked across at some others sitting on the sofa. The old mystic wasn’t there; she had left shortly after telling me “Beware of the day communications run out and the girl in yellow on the paper will see you.”

I looked once more at Aidan for guidance but he was engrossed in sending that email. Just before his mouse slid over to the ‘send’ button, I managed to read a line.

‘I’m sorry sis, but it’s really complicated. She’s really complicated.’

‘She’s really complicated?’ Sigh, I guess that I am, but what can I do about it? It’s not like I can change my past bad behaviour, or change my future of…’darkness, broken communication and pictures coming to life’, according to the mystic. Well, I don’t know what’s real or not anymore.

It’s really complicated. Yup, that’s right.

The End

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