Where The Empty Parts Go.
The sign was something that had been hanging there for long as I could remember VACANCY....
The white letters on a faded background were really something. One bulb was flickering it looked like it was tired.
I do not even remember when I first started noticing the motel. I passed by that motel every day on my way to work, the road was always cracked the fence was always bent, that stray dog was always sleeping under the mango tree across the street, my life was, like a routine that I followed every day. I was doing the things over and over again and somehow the old motel was a part of my daily routine.
Then one evening after another long shift, at work that paid too little money and had taken too much out of me I actually slowed down.
I did not look at the sign, with my eyes only. I also thought about it a lot and I stared at the sign that said "Vacancy".
Then the situation felt somewhat personal, to me, the whole thing felt somewhat personal.
It was not like it was advertising rooms but it was actually talking to me somehow because lately that is exactly how I have been feeling, I felt really empty. It was not, like something you see in a movie where people are being super dramatic, ut was a plain empty feeling.
not the kind that people talk about when they're trying to be fancy, I just felt empty.
Just… hollow.
I had a job I had a roof, over my head I had friends that I always replied to once in a while a family that loved me. There was this quiet space inside of my life this quiet space inside of me that nothing seemed to fill, My dreams that I used to talk about they are all quiet now. The things I loved are sitting somewhere in the past. They are now collecting dust. I remember my dreams and the things I loved. They are not, like that anymore. My dreams and the things I loved are memories now.
My laughter did not even sound like my laughter anymore. So I did something that I normally would not do. I turned it in.
The parking lot was really empty, there was one old car, it was completely quiet no music was playing and nothing was moving. Inside the reception area I saw a woman. The woman was sitting behind the counter. The woman looked like a person. The woman was not scary all. The woman was also not magical or anything, like that. The woman just sat there really calm.
The lady asked me if I needed a room, I was surprised that she asked if I needed a room.
I then hesitated a bit.
I am really not sure I said. I just do not have an answer, to that. I am totally clueless, Then she nodded like that made sense. Most people are not always sure, she said.
I put my hand in my pocket. Pulled out some cash. Will this be enough I asked the lady. She nodded again. Then she handed me a key.
Room 7.
The hallway smelled like dust and old paint, the lights were buzzing softly, my footsteps were sounding louder than they normally di, when I opened the door I expected something really bad to happen like I would see Ghosts or Blood or Something really scary, I do not know what I was thinking, I expected something dramatic to be inside.
It did not look like anything, the room had a small bed a mirror stand and a desk,the room was really a normal room there was nothing special.
I sat on the bed, let out a big sigh. I asked myself why am I here? I said it loud but very quietly. There was no answer to my question.
Then I noticed the mirror, not the kind you usually see, It did not reflect the room, the mirror reflected the person I'm but it was not the me that is standing here right now. It reflected me. A different version of me.
I saw myself laughing and writing and taking pictures and sitting on the floor at 2 a.m. With dreams and very messy thoughts.
I saw the version of me that believed life was more than getting by. My throat immediately tightened.
I miss you I told my reflection. My reflection smiled back at me. This time it was not creepy it was soft. It was like my reflection was forgiving me. Then I understood something. The empty space I was feeling was not a room. The vacancy was something, than that.
There is a space, inside of me that is waiting to be filled.
When I woke up I was, in my bed. There was no no receipt and no motel. The day on my way to work I passed the spot where the motel was supposed to be. It was a pure empty lot. The motel was gone I mean the motel was really gone. I saw the lot and I thought about the motel again.
No building, no sign....
But now inside me, something felt… slightly less empty, i wasn't fixed, I wasn't healed, jst open, and maybe that’s what vacancy really means, not absence, but possibility.
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