Today, I started my journey.

     Leaving a place you call home is hard. I’ve had to do that twice now. Saying goodbye, packing, taking the memories with you; it’s bittersweet. It’s a constant battle of having to move on and wanting the heart to rest. I put my heart through so many emotions when I left Winterfell that leaving Storm’s End started to undo the stitches to those wounds. But I’ll be back! Absolutely!

The journey begins with a trip to The Staff of Flags.

     It was long. I was also very hot. The moment I would turn off the AC, it felt like my lovely 60 degree weather had elevated to 100. I just had to keep alternating and bearing through the tortuous burning sensations.

     When I had finally arrived, I met up with a friend and caught up. He was sick. So the conversation was cut short due to his body’s lack of energy. Curse you body! Then I headed out in search of a place to stay for the night. Normally, I would just stay in my car, but my lovely phone was on the brink of death and I needed it to give me an idea of how to drive up to The Canyon of Grandness. Also, it was mostly so that I could have an alarm wake me up. Readers, I don’t think you know this about me, but I don’t wake up. It’s virtually impossible. For some reason, though, an alarm can get through; most times…

     So I turned to one of the fancy applications my device has and searched for a cheap motel in the area. After perusing through a couple options, I finally decided on one: The Murder Motel. I kid you not, I felt like I was going to be in one of those B-rated horror films that nobody really knows about unless you’re into that stuff.

     First of all, when I followed the directions on my application, it led me to an abandon, run down building. It looked like a slaughter house. I checked and checked my application to see if I had arrived; I did. Now, I wasn’t about to just hop outside of my car and check out if it was it. No. That’s how you get murdered. After finally calming down from the shock of my impending death, I noticed the Murder Motel a hundred feet away. I drove in.

     When I jumped out of my car, I noticed the dimly lit, pastel blue façade. It felt very retro…and scary. Upon entering the lobby of the infrastructure, nobody was there to greet me in the dimly lit room. Pattern? I called out several times and nobody answered. Then I noticed a desktop that was turned on.

  

Was I supposed to sign myself in and pay online?

But then how would I receive the key?

Why is this computer making strange noises?!?!

    

So many unanswered questions.

     Finally, an Indian girl in her early to mid 20’s popped out from behind one of the doors and startled me:

MM Girl: (with an accent) Oh, hello! Sorry, have you been waiting long?

Asian: (quivering) Oh…no… Not too long…

MM Girl: I am very sorry again. What can I help you with?

Asian: I would like a room for tonight, please.

MM Girl: Ok. (typing) We have something available for thirty-five dollars not including tax.

Asian: Perfect! I’ll take it!

     When I finally got into my room. I started panicking. Not only did I feel like there was somebody outside waiting to shove me in and attempt to murder me, but I couldn’t see what horror awaited me inside the room. As I frantically searched for the light switch, I ran over to the lamp next to the bed and flicked it on. Then, I ran to the door and shut it tight.

     I slowly inspected the room: checked to see if the beds were raised, if there were any closets and if so what’s inside, the bathroom. At the end of my investigation, I deemed the area safe. Still, it was a very unsettling aura.

     As the night grew darker, the room felt colder. I attempted to turn on the heater that was in the room, but all it blew out was neutral to cold air. I tried setting it to seventy-six degrees, hoping that it would blow out hot air as I lay in slumber. After doing so, I got ready for bed and headed for possibly the warmest thing in this room. I was wrong. Not only were there only two layers of blankets, their blankets were bed sheets; if I could even call it that. At least my bed sheets back home gave me warmth, I was pretty sure the nice Indian girl drugged me and had me hallucinating that I was underneath sheets. Because all I was feeling was more cold air.

Sincerely,

An Asian