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   Chapter 8 The Dawsons

Mr. Fiction | Open Novella Contest By Agatha Rose Characters: 5784

Updated: 2018-03-02 19:49

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Two hundred forty-six miles and five hours drive from Stockbridge, Massachusetts to Ardmore, Pennsylvania. My legs are sore and my neck is tensed.

By the time I reach Ardmore, it's raining pretty, so hard that I'm not able to see the road clearly. Just my luck. This day is getting worse and worse but at least I'll be able to see my mom soon.

I saw a motel sign a few miles behind. At this point in time, it's better to stop and wait until the rain stops. I make a turn and park my car in the empty lawn in front of the motel, next to a red truck. I grab my bag from the backseat and run inside under the pouring rain.

A lady in her fifties is sitting behind the reception desk. Her eyes glued to the television placed on the wall, showing what looks like a telenovela.

"Excuse me, " I greet her softly, afraid that I might startle her.

She shifts in her seat and turns to me. Her face brightens when she sees me. She blinks multiple times, even rubs her eyes as if she doesn't quite believe that there's a customer walking in at this hour.

"Hi, I'd like to rent a room so I can take a bath while waiting for the rain to stop, " I explain.

She stands and leans in forward, looking at me closely and creeping me out at the same time. "Juliet. It's been a long time, my child. My, my, you're all grown up now!"

Great. One more person to add to my list. "I'm sorry, I'm not Juliet. My name is Julie Saint Andrews." I fish out my ID and hand it to her.

She clicks her tongue in disapproval. "Changing your name won't fool me, girl. Are you coming to visit your mom and pop?"

Now it's m

lly when I'm sure this man is the one mistaken. "That's not possible, Sir, " I try not to sound rude while proving my point. "I know for sure that this is my parents' house."

"Nah, " he shakes his head and folds his arms in front of his shirt. "I live here for three years now, girl. This is my house alright."

I take a step back and look at the house one more time, making sure I'm not in the wrong address. "But this is 211 Roberts Road, right?" I steal a glance at the silver plate with number 211 hung on the wall beside the door.

"Why do I have to put up with this nonsense so early in the morning?!" he groans as he looks up at the sky as if blaming it for his luck.

No one says something that rude to me before. "Excuse me?!"

He slid his gaze back to me and stare me down. "It's either you, " he says while pointing one finger at me, "and your bullshit leave or I'll have to call the cops!" He gets inside and slams the door shut, causing me to jump back and gasp.

This is ridiculous! I'm going to go to the Town Council and prove that rude man wrong. I grab my bag from the floor and stomp my way back to my car.

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