"Carmen, I need you to come assist me. The hotel is fully booked and the lobby is a mess, would you please come help tidy it up and brighten this day for our guests?" Father cooed.
You'd think that I'd be bitter towards his plea, but he seems to not only actually need my assistance but what he asks of me makes my little nose dig out more dirt on what exactly is so special about this nowhereland and the man that seems to run it.
He wasn't lying when he said we were fully booked, the movement and commotion throughout the lobby reminded me of a pile of ants swarming someone's sweet creamy drips from their ice cream cone.
Sometimes people approach me treating me as though Father Everest was my own blood father. Their fingers typically smell of the cigarettes and they entwine in my hair, pinch my cheeks, or pull my chin up from the floor. I'd give them a good kick in the shins, but I've learned that if I want anyone to give me what I want or tell me what I want to know I need to smile real sweetly and bat my lashes like their aint no tomorrow.
I stopped living a long time ago, I no longer pay attention to what is happening in my own life because my life was never significant to nobody. When it became no longer significant to myself i took an interest in putting myself in other people's business. Which has gotten me nowhere.... Until now.
So far what I've noticed about this place is that it sure as hell gets a lot of visitors for a place with the saddest weather. The men drink a lot and exchange wives for the night. Everyone is always smiling. But there is something off about my happy home. A pile of secrets and unexplained happenings, disappearances, and an abundance of profit beyond what the hotel should be making.
I'm not gonna go and rat out Father, but it 'aint my fault that this kitty cat got curious. This place is reeking of something that is beyond fishy.
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