Dedicated to Madeline McCann- I hope they find you one day.
Breathing heavily, my eyes open with a flash, looking up at the ceiling that is a yucky yellowish colour, like it was painted before the ice age. Slowly turning my head I look over at my friend Chelsea, she is snoring quite peacefully, her dyed light red hair is draping around her big, blue, innocent eyes. I watch her for a moment as she pulls her sleeping bag, up higher around her pale neck. I don’t want to wake her but the boredom and excitement is getting the better of me. I slowly rise up and start to un-zip my sleeping bag quietly. Looking around I look out the small narrow window above my bed, it’s snowing outside, fairly heavily, and it’s clogged upon the thin window sill.
Bored of waiting for Chelsea to wake up, plus it’s almost 8am i awkwardly try to fake a rather loud yawn. She wakes and stares at me as if to say ‘really? That was so fake’ but Chelsea just says contently, “good morning”
I reply, “Yeah we got back here pretty late from the 4wd bus journey last night.”
Happily she adds, “yeah but it was so worth it. I mean, hello! We made it, after all the hiccups and parents saying no to almost everything in our life’s, me, Chelsea cooper, and you, Tamzin young, from little old Tasmania, got to mount Hotham!!! Six days at a remote snow resort with some of our classmates from school, it’s going to be so damn awesome.” Chelsea adds with enthusiasm and excitement.
“Yeah it’s going to be pretty cool. Do you want to go and get some breakfast?” I say expectantly, hoping she will accept the offer of warm porridge.
“Okay dokey” she replies.
We both slide out of our sleeping bags pushing our feet into our cosy, warm ugg boots, and head for the door, hastily, but, oh so quiet. We walk down the long corridor, which for a while looks never ending. All the same room doors, same credit-card shaped keys for every door, the same long, bright lights along the antique white ceiling. We get to almost the kitchen and one of the lights is blinking uncontrollably. Like its refusing to be conformed to looking the same as all the others.
Chelsea and I make it to the guest kitchen; grab two small bowls that have little orange flowers pacing around the top edge of the bowls gracefully. We start looking around all the cupboards in the wide, second hand kitchen until I reach up and find the one with the cereals, coco pops, nutri-grain, just right, weet-bix, cornflakes, fruit loops, special k, and even my favourite, milo cereal. I stretch on my toes to grab the rather large box of milo cereal and ask Chelsea what she would like, Chelsea calmly says, “just some cornflakes please bub” “okay” I add. Pouring carefully listening to that soft twinkling sound as the cereal hits the bottom of the small bowls, tip some milk and in silence, walk back to our room, Chelsea is in front of me by a couple of metres, hungry to hog into her cornflakes in the privacy of our bedroom . I go to shut our door when I notice a fairly weird looking man, leaning against a piece of wall between two other hotel room doors, he has pitch black shortish hair that curls at the very rims of his ears, burnt olive skin and eyes as green as forest moss. Although im lured by his over whelming eyes, something about his stare and how he is looking at me gives me the creeps, I try to lighten the mood by giving him a vague smile and loudly close Chelsea and I’s bedroom door.
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