The sound of my phone suddenly buzzing on the tv stand filled the silence in the room.

“Hi, hello,” I said after grabbing my cell phone while reeling from the nightmare.

“How’s my favorite writer? Is everything going well? You aren’t returning my messages, Sam.”

I didn’t respond right away, I wanted silence until I could clear my head, but finally forcing myself to respond, I said, “Yeah, everything’s just great, Eric. So great, in fact, I got to be stuck in lucky room number 7, where a murder happened, and to top it off, the staff of this joint act like it’s normal.”

I left out the nightmare detail.

“Oh my god! No shit?! Why didn’t you tell me yesterday? That’s fantastic! You could use this! I can see it now, ‘The Motel, a small desolate place where murder is part of the norm. What makes this place attract those that wish to kill?’ I must say it reminds me of that place in L.A., you know, what’s the name of it?”

“I don’t remember. What do you want, Eric?”

“Just waiting for an update. Oh, I was able to get you a slot for early releases if you want it. It gives you about three months to get me the manuscript.”

I didn’t even respond and hung up. It was pointless to let him go on, I had nothing, and murder was the last thing I wanted to write about.

Checking the time, it was only around 8 o'clock, so I started packing shit up. It occupied my mind for about five minutes, and then I had everything by the door. I checked the mirror. My hair was greasy, and I really needed a shower after sweating in my sleep, but I opted for a hat and clean clothes instead. The hat was one of those old trucker hats with the mesh back. It was one of the few things I held on to from the past. Chrissy had thrown a fit at a gas station to get it because the pig on it was cute, she said. Rebecca and I never told her it was the logo for a meat slaughter company.

Once I was ready, I called the relator, deciding I wouldn’t buy the place. What if the dream was an omen, a sign that I shouldn’t set foot there again?

“Hello?”

“Dirt and Shore Reality, this is Lin. How can I help you?”

Lin? I thought the number I had was a cell for Sara, “Uh, I’m sorry, can I speak to Sara, please?”

“Oh, Sara? She’s unfortunately unavailable, but I can help you.”

I shook my head as if the chick could see me, “Sara has been the one helping me. I’d really rather talk to her. When will she be available?”

There was a pause, and a muffled sound, like a hand, was covering the phone.

“I’m sorry, Sara won’t be available for another few weeks. However, I can help you if you give me a moment. Let me look up the number you’re calling from. Give me just a second. Ah, here we go, Mr. Samuel Lake?”

I took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want to deal with another pushy person.

“Yeah, Sam Lake. Look, Lin? I changed my mind about the property. Me purchasing it right now won’t work out.”

“Oh, really? Because I had you on my call list. The previous owner of the property apparently passed away not too long ago. From what I see here, Sunny Bank and Trust will take over the property, and guess what? They’re asking for only half of what the previous owner was asking for the house AND the land, isn’t that great?”

If my eyes could shoot out of my head, they would have. Half the price? That’s like easy robbery for me, and if this were two years ago, I would have jumped at the offer tenfold.

“Um, can I,” before she gave me a chance to ask for some time to think about it, she sweetened the deal.

“Also, Mr. Lake, the bank is willing to pay the closing cost and the safety inspection and provide a yearlong homeowners insurance, paid in full. This is truly a steal, Mr. Lake. I’d hate to see you miss such a wonderful opportunity. Sara mentioned you are a writer. Sunny Field is cozy, perfect for rest and relaxation, don’t you think?”

Why does everyone think that you need rest and relaxation if you’re a writer?

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Fantastic! So, the paperwork will be drawn up at the bank, Sunny Field Bank and Trust, and it will probably be ready by this afternoon. This is wonderful news! You won’t regret it! I will send you the address to the bank, along with some of our paperwork, to your email shortly.”

I rolled my eyes before asking, “So what about the showing? If Sara isn’t available, who will be showing me the property, I still need to look at it.”

Again, there was a muffled sound before she responded.

“You can handle that yourself, can’t you, Mr. Lake? It’s only because I don’t have an agent in the area anymore. My deepest apology. But, if you have any questions about the property, you are welcome to call this number again.”

“Okay, yeah, questions. Thanks,” I responded, not too enthusiastically.

“Great! We here at Dirt and Shore Reality would like to thank you for choosing a business that will make all your dreams a reality.”

She hung up, not even giving me a chance to say thanks. Her words reminded me of the dream, and I shook my head, trying to dismiss it.

I grabbed my laptop out of my bag and plugged it in, intending to wait for the email, but a knock sounded on my door.

Peeking out the curtain, I could see it was Tina. I would probably need one more night at the hotel of death, so I opened the door.

She handed me a key, "Here, this is for room 3. It became vacant this morning. Bring your key for check out, and then you can check in to the new room."

"Thanks," I said, actually feeling a bit grateful.

"Yeah, you're only covered for room 7, so you'll have to pay for your stay in room 3. We take cash or card, no checks."

She turned and walked away.