Last Hope Motel: Vacancy.

So I find myself walking again on this road. It's a lost highway I've heard.
It must be true: I never seem to get nowhere, for no matter how many times I've tried, I've always failed.
It's only after -I don't know how long- that I reach the only construction a desert this cold and dark blue can offer. It's a motel, the neon sign reads. I enter to see if there are any rooms available.
I feel at home here. Here I'm lonely no more; I'm alone. A room is waiting for me, and here I'll stay... until the broken pieces stop falling apart, so I can put back my skin on; until everything starts to make sense again, so I can tell my mind where to go.
Within these walls it's warm. Now I can rest and have some sleep, swimming in dreams. Then I'll go downstairs and sit at the bar. In silence I'll have my drink. Talking to nobody I'll stare back at them, and they'll feel my gaze.
Eventually someone is going to look back at me, and I'll be waiting for her. I can see her turning around and smiling because she has found me among the crowd... I know she's coming someday to this place. Everyone who is lost finds her way here. She can't miss it: it's the building with the neon sign at the end of the road, near the edge of the cliff.
Till' then I'll remain here, lying down. The voice inside my head telling me I don't want to be hurt again will slowly start to fade... then we'll find ourselves in each other's arms, beside solitude and tranquility.

Last Hope Motel: Room for Two.

Back then, when we married -even before- when we where hanging out, he always used to hold my hand. No matter where we went, no matter where we were, with friends or all by ourselves, he'd always hold my hand. Now he's just a shape beside me. I think I don't love him anymore and it doesn't even make me sad. Is this what hate is all about?

I don't know for how long I can take it. "This is our last chance, to make things right, to go back to what we used to be", she said while making the reservations to this motel we're heading. "It'll be our second honey moon, it'll be great, you'll see", she continued. Well, the truth is, I can't see anything in this fog. We almost crashed some kilometers back. She stared back at me with judging eyes, like it was all my fault... This place better be a bomb, 'cause I really don't know how long I can take it.

To think we were so happy... what happened? We have a son, he always wanted a boy, now he has it... Isn't that enough? God, what am I thinking... what was I thinking when I decided to come to this place... If he'd just hurry, I feel so uncomfortable in this car.

She's so selfish. She's always expecting something from me; from everyone. I'm the one who has to carry with all the weight of this relationship, of this marriage... That word... its sound is no longer familiar. We've talked about divorce already. And my boy... she wouldn't say it, but she's been clear enough about it: she won't let me have him; I can have everything else, the house, the car, whatever I want, but not him... She might be sitting next to me -quiet and beautiful- looking at the desert through the window, but I can't recognize her anymore, she's like someone else... and I am so lonely right now...

Last Hope Motel: No Vacancy.

The rain won't stop falling. Right now it feels like forever. I think I've been moving in circles for too long. This damn rain, I can't see a thing. Somewhere in the distance there are neon lights: it's a motel for sure.
As I keep going the rain has already made it through my clothes. I'm soaking wet when I finally make it there. As I thought, it's a motel. I enter only to find there aren't any rooms left. With no other choice I hang the wet clothes and hit the bar.
People come and go without notice in these places, so I figure -if I hang around I may get a room, sooner than later-.
Inside the bar the place is deserted, except for a strange guy in a corner drinking in silence. I sit down and wait... I don't know what I´m waiting for, but I have nothing else to do than wait.
Time goes by and I can't do anything but watch it drown in an endless moment... Where am I? I've never been here before... it's that why I feel so lost? My chest, it's like someone beat it with a hammer. I can't breath, I'm suffocating... what is this place? Oh God, please tell me it isn't Hell.

Last Hope Motel: Expectations.

His last words before hanging up were "I'll meet you there". So now I'm looking for this place, though I really feel it's calling me. I have no address, at least not a real one, only directions, signs, indications on where to turn and where to go straight. But then, I can't help the feeling I'm going in circles.
I can't wait to see him again, to hold him and kiss him. We've grown so distant over the last few months... I just want this last chance to make things right, to erase the mistakes of the past and build a better future for us both. I love him so much I can't really explain what has happened between us... sometimes I fear it's someone else, but what really terrifies me is, well, it's me... What if it's all my fault? What if it's me who's grown distant? What if I'm not enough? I can only wish he can forgive me as I have forgiven him...
At last! "The neon lights in the distance," just as they said back in town! I'm so excited I can't wait! Is he already there waiting for me? Has he chosen a nice and cozy room? Gosh, my belly's full of butterflies!

Last Hope Motel: Asphyxia.

My eyes slowly open and the blurred images regain some of their form. Where am I? This looks like a motel room, no doubt about it... Damn, this hangover's gonna kill me... Mmm, where is the girl I shagged last night? Where was I last night and with whom? Hard to remember right now, but whoever she was has already left.
As I stumble around the place's furniture the memories of last night resist to show up; instead, flashbacks of my life haunt me. I make it to the bathroom. My toothbrush, shaver, lotions and creams are organized exactly the same way I have them arranged back in my crib. I run to the closet and find all of my clothing nice and clean. How much time have I spent in this place?
I need a bath. Inside the bathtub there are my soap and shampoo brands, as back home. This place... What the hell?! I wasn't here last night! Oh! My head... I can't even scream inside my head... all this is too strange... I think I'm gonna be sick.
I put my pijamas on and exit the room. The corridor is desolated. I go downstairs; there's no one in the lobby. Checking the record books I find my registration entry, it was last night... Where the fuck am I?... nothing makes sense...

Last Hope Motel: Lost Hope Motel.

"That’s life" they say, "that’s the way it is". Well, I decided life doesn’t have to be like that. When I first made it to this motel I took out that piece of meat they call heart, with a fist wrapped in blood. I needed to get away from everything; even from myself.
I put it in a drawer. Sometimes I place it on the table and stare at it. Strange as it is, it still beats... even though I cannot feel anything.
Now there’s no place to run, no way to hide; and no need to. I’m no longer human, I’ve become something else entirely: I’m a walking corpse. And they’re aware of my presence; I know it because they step away from me. It’s like the coldness of my body frightens them. Maybe they’re afraid of becoming like me, maybe they think I could harm them if they come near me.

It doesn’t matter anymore; nothing can stop me now; they can’t hurt me ever again.

Last Hope Motel: Orphanage.

Mom and dad left some time ago. They told me they needed to spend some "quality time" together, or something. I miss them; I’ve never been away from them for so long, it’s like time had swallowed them whole. They didn’t gave me an address nor telephone number to contact them. If I could just hear their voice, know they're fine, anything! Why haven’t they called?! Are they ever coming back?!
I skipped school this morning because I wanted to look for them, and find they’re OK. I’m not sure why, but somehow I feel they need me, like they’re calling me.
I’ve been riding my bike all day with no certain direction; and yet I've got this strange feeling I'm getting closer and closer, and as this feeling grows, so does the coldness... real weird stuff... like if I had went through some kind of barrier, a frontier between me and I don’t know what... like I said, weird stuff, kinda creepy.
Mmm... there’s something bright in the distance: it's neon lights. Maybe a motel?, like the ones alongside roads in the desert... only this one isn't at the side of the road, it's its end.
Anyway, I'd better get there fast, before I freeze to death.

Last Hope Motel: The Ferryman.

Ever since she died I have longed to linger. The cancer devoured her slowly and sorely consuming us both until there was neither flesh nor blood to hold on to.
I survived to her only for our children; to see them grow strong and happy. We worked it out as a family led by her loving memory. We grew closer to each other, giving comfort to ourselves.

We had to somehow fill the empty space left by her death.

For quite a while it was OK. Our children needed me and I was always there for them. But now that has changed, they have grown strong and happy, and just like that they have left home to pursue their own future; a future where I am too old and lonely to wish to live.

I go back to those years and it feels like they had never happened, just like some kind of dream; a bad dream as it feels now.

I have saved an obolus for Khárôn to take me to the other side of the river´s flow. I have decided I do not want him to take me here in our home. I would like to embark on my journey somewhere else far away from here, away from everything. A place where I have never been before, where I can finally rest as I am, as a forgotten old man.

Last Hope Motel: Dead End.

Right now I'm drunk. It's 4 a.m. and I'm driving nowhere. The night's cool and quiet; I'm not. I go as fast as I can wishing maybe a rabbit or the jackal chasing it will get caught in the headlights making my reflexes spring into action, making me turn the steering wheel violently in the hopes that the little animal won't be just another innocent victim, like myself... the scared little creep looking back at me, standing in the middle of the highway frozen in fear; then my reaction and then this car bouncing out of control until it crashes against a cactus tree. Away from everything there'd be no help... it'll be a lonely, painful and slow death. I can see it a thousand times in my mind... but, am I not already dying?

This thing I'm feeling... at first I thought it was rage... now I know it's not rage, is frustration... in the end, just sadness... plain and simple, dark and blue sadness; just like this desert.

Looking into the rearview mirror I can see how everything´s changed, despite we promised each other it never would. Things doesn't work all the time; I stopped caring some time ago. She was my life, now there's nothing left.

What's that? Are those neon lights? I fear I'm coming closer at an increasing speed. I don't recognize the distance between things anymore, and I don't really care: the bottle of gin at my side has taken care of it. Suddenly it's too late when I realize I'm driving my car directly against a building, a motel of sorts. I don't bother to close my eyes and wait for the collision. If this is the end, it'd make a good death. I'm almost there where I finally die nailed to a wall, crushed inside my car's cabin. I can't wait for the impact. I resist once again the urge to close my eyes, the thrill exciting the liquor in my blood, my heart pumping faster and faster... but then reality loses its grip on me as I break through the motel as if it were an illusion, its walls made of the same fabrics dreams are made of. Instead of crashing against it I found out the place rests at the end of a cliff which sends me flying away into the darkness of whatever lies beyond the end of the world.

Last Hope Motel: Memories.

I’ve been driving for hours, wandering. Suddenly I see a diner at the side of the road. I park my car and go inside. The place's gloomy and dirty, like if it were abandoned years ago... it feels so lonely... there's only another customer beside me; I can't see him clearly but he appears to be an old man. I sit down and order a lime pie; I’m asked in return where I’m heading. “I don’t know” I answer. The old waitress goes to the counter to get my pie and comes back with it. “Well my dear, If you follow that road, after a couple hours you’ll see neon lights in the horizon. If you don’t know where to go, go there” she says with an afflicted grimace.

I ask her for a pencil and a piece of paper; she kindly hands them to me. I start writing: “So here I am, writing this letter to you. I haven’t done this in a while… I don’t recall the last time I wrote a letter to anyone… I never wrote you a letter... It doesn’t matter anyway.

I miss you so much... I miss the way your harsh look can be so sweet as soon as your funny dimple shows up on your left cheek everytime you smile, the tender way your hands touch me and how you always stare at me; God, I felt so loved and secure when you did that... the way you hug me... This isn't good, thinking about all that... I’m growing weary of looking at your photographs and paintings and listening to the music we enjoyed so much together; it hurts me, it keeps me thinking about you. All the good things, everything that was great between you and me is killing me… killing me very slowly, like a stake to the heart gently driven into my chest.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Since you ran away nobody knows where you are so the most probable thing is that you’ll never read this… Where are you? You only left a good-bye note. I’ve looked everywhere, I’ve asked everyone; but you’re nowhere to be found and no one knows of your whereabouts. It’s like you had entirely disappeared from the land of the living. Was it so bad with me? Were our differences so contradictory? Weren’t you happy with me after I did everything to please you? Or is that you found another girl, someone better, prettier? If that’s so why didn’t you tell me? It'd hurt less; it'd be a lot easier to get over you if you would've had the decency to tell me what the hell happened!

*I sigh exhausted*

I think maybe I’ll disappear too. Everything reminds me of you. Your presence's everywhere in my room; it’s in the pillows and in the closet; it’s in my clothes and in my underwear… Damn it, I fear it’s even inside of me!

I need to get away from here. I need to breathe another air that isn’t yours… It’s a shame I didn’t write this letter earlier, before leaving home; I’d have left it on the bed where you made love to me so many times. In that way if someone ever came looking for me he’d know I went away looking for some mysterious neon lights”.

It's getting darker, I'd better be going.

Last Hope Motel: Devourer.

The blood dries in my mouth while the tiny scraps of flesh lie scattered on the blankets. As I look away the sunlight slowly leaves the room through the window throwing me into this darkness, a darkness only lit by the neon sign outside... Tomorrow there won't be a beautiful dawn to stare at, the same way as there won't be someone to share this cold and cloudy night.

It was supposed to be perfect, I know. After you helped me run away from my home there was nothing that could get between us... except ourselves.
I shouldn't have left you, but I panicked. I'm aware I'm just a stupid little girl for running away... I feel so miserable for hurting you...

...I take another bite ripping off a little more skin...

I think of you often. I want to see you again, to hold you... my fingers dial your number with a will of their own, but I can't bring myself to talk to you 'cause I know you're never coming back with me; not since I left in the middle of the night, scared of committing to you...

Now I have nowhere to go; I have no family and no lover; there's no one to look after me. This anxiety's driving me mad... The only thing I do is sit on this corner and eat my fingernails, desperately... what am I saying? I ate my fingernails already... so I've began to tear the flesh off my fingers... if only the pain and the taste of blood in my mouth could cast away this emptiness I'm feeling...

...In this motel days go by one after another monotonously... and I can't sleep with you still living inside of me...

Last Hope Motel: Pitch Black.

I wake up in the middle of the night, scared, crying, my nerves shattered... I can't see a thing, I find it hard to breath, I cough... I can't stop crying... It takes me a while to remember where I am as my eyes slowly adjust themselves to the darkness... I recognize the broken TV set and the paint falling from the dirty walls and I remember I'm here, lying in the bed of a forgotten motel room in the middle of nowhere... then I remember everything...

I was torn apart a night like any other, at the age of fourteen. That night I was walking down the street like I always used to. Then four men raised from the dark, unseen. They hastily took my clothes off and put a bag on my head. They pushed me and I fell on my back against the pavement, with my underwear down my ankles. They almost beat me senseless. They spread my legs and one by one let me feel their weight all over me... inside me. I couldn't scream; I didn't make a sound.

I recall everything that happened on that night, like still photographs from a sad movie, second by second playing in my mind.

So I wake up crying in the middle of the night, not knowing why. I find myself in complete darkness, so I suddenly realize the bag´s again on my head. I try hysterically to stop them, to repel them, not wanting to be hurt any more... but it´s too late... they fuck me every time they want; they come and go in and out of my soul every time they want.
Sometimes I smell their foul breath intoxicating the air. It might happen in the middle of a sunny day, and I know it´s absurd, but the smell just won´t leave me... so I start crying in panic, fearing they´re behind me, again, waiting for me to turn back and start it all over from the beginning... It doesn't matter, they don´t need me to turn around, not even touch me, to fuck me.

Last Hope Motel: Eraser.

Outside, the clapping thunder announces a storm's coming. Soon it'll be here. Its noise is starting to get to my nerves... to think I came here in the first place because of the city's unbearable noise. I can't work with it. The big city and its highways always consumed in traffic jams, sidewalks crowded with people talking unceasingly, kids on every park crying and laughing loudly, the sky obscured by its tall skyscrapers and airplanes... it's so fucking irritating...

And just when you'd think that going to the desert -where there's literally no one- would relieve you of the city's noises, then you have to face a storm, and a big one. The rain’s already starting to pound hard against the cheap ceiling.

"You'll be just fine, you're going to love the desert's landscape, it'll be nice and quiet" said the stupid cow back home. She even made the reservation for this cheap motel, couldn't she've found a worst place? Anyhow, I've brought everything I could possibly need to work here, from my notebook computer to my espresso machine and coffee brand. "You're exaggerating,” she said. Well, I don't give a fuck what she says. Anyway, everything's set up. I've been working non-stop for the last couple of hours. If it weren't for that goddamn storm it would be perfect...

Holy shit what was that! All the lights went out... I'll be damned if a lightning struck the fucking place! Shit I don't know when was the last fucking time I saved! Fuck! Don't panic, don't panic... Sure it's a momentary thing, the place should have an auxiliary power plant for these kind of situations... Oh God, please tell me I didn't lose those last hours of work, please, please! When did I save for the last time? If I were back home she'd be all over me bitchin' "I told ya! I told ya to always save after you finish a draft". I know that's what she'd be bitchin' over and over, like that's gonna make any difference at all... Why aren't the lights back on already? Isn't there a fucking janitor around!? I try to reach for the phone but I accidentally spill the coffee all over the table. Fuck! I can't see a fucking thing, just glimpses when lighting flashes... Damn it! I spilled the coffee all over the keyboard. It turns off. Desperately I take my shirt off to try and clean up the fucking mess... Then the lights are back on.

In an act of stupidity I don’t wait for the inner circuits to fully dry and go ahead and try to turn it back on; it doesn’t. Instead it starts to smell like something’s burnt. I grab my head between my hands. I need to calm down and think clearly. I can’t stay here anymore; I need to get that computer fixed. I can’t afford to lose all the information stored there, I can’t loose all the hours worth of work… or I’m fired. Hell, I’m fucked…

Outside the storm roars angry. It’s gonna be dangerous to drive with this weather, but I have to give it a try… I hastily pack everything and get ready to leave. Then the lights are out again. Fuck! With the lighting flashes as my only guide I make it to the lobby. It’s flooded; there’s no one. I don’t bother to call someone for the check out, it’s not like I’m paying for this shit. They can sue me later if they want to. I push the entrance door. It’s difficult to open with all the mud blocking it. As I open it more water floods the Motel’s first floor. I finally exit... and… and I can’t believe my eyes: my car, apparently the only one left in the parking lot, lies submerged in the mud like it were a crashed plane, its nose deeply buried into the ground and its rear high against the sky.

This is madness… it’s like this accursed damn place hates me…

I… I can’t take it… I just can’t… I can’t take it anymore. Tears of rage begin to run down my eyes. Instinctively, my hands let go off my baggage. I don’t give a shit anymore. I open my briefcase in search of my Glock 9mm. It’s loaded and I’m ready. I shot the car’s trunk open. Inside there’s an emergency gas can I take with me. I feel like killing somebody, anybody… I go back inside.