He stares at her, eyes wide, mouth frozen. Darkness begins to cloak the sky as he takes a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with her. She can tell he is hurt, but she is not able to prevent it. There is nothing more to be said, not even good-bye. He begins to walk across the dimly lit street, unaware of car headlights coming quickly towards him. He turns to take one last look. As she runs towards him, she calls out his name, but does not get to him in time. Tires squeal; the sound of agony fills the night air.

“This is a really nice hotel,” Lindsay comments with a sad smile, as the bellhop directs her to her room. “I wasn’t expecting one this nice in such a small town.”

She walks behind the neatly dressed employee, all the while looking at the nature paintings on the walls, the patterns of seclusion intriguing her.

“That’s because this place just got remodeled,” replies the bellhop cheerily. “You can probably tell by the new carpet smell. In a couple of weeks, it will be back to its ol’ dirty self.” He pats the wall as if patting a horse.

Lindsay can’t help but laugh. The two stop at room nine. The bellhop opens the door and gestures Lindsay to enter. She does, in the process removing her coat and placing it on the hook beside the door. The bellhop carries in her suitcases with no struggle.

“So,” he says, attempting to make conversation, “how long are you staying?”

Lindsay shrugs. “Probably a week or two, or until I find an apartment.”

“Oh.” The bellhop nods, as if visitors of the hotel do this frequently. “Where are you from?”

Lindsay clears her throat and places her hands in her pockets. “I’m from Ottawa,” she replies, shuffling her feet. “It’s become so busy there; I need to escape to a quieter place.”

The bellhop smiles, his pudgy face making him look like a small child. “Well, if you like being bored, you’ll love it here. This place only has a population of about twelve. If you meet all the employees of this hotel, you’ve met Paisley.”

Lindsay grins. “Aren’t you supposed to be promoting this place?”

The bellhop adjusts his hat, which sits on his curly brown hair. “You look like you can keep a secret.”

Lindsay’s smile fades as she stares at the ground. If you only knew.

He quickly holds out his hand. “I’m William. If you need anything, just buzz downstairs.”

Lindsay shakes his hand. “Okay, thanks.”

William quietly shuts the door, exiting. Lindsay, not wanting to unpack, looks around at her temporary home. The beige shades hide the bright afternoon sun; the shadows of trees dance on the plush carpeted floor. A large television fits snugly into an oak entertainment center, which aligns the far wall. Across from it is a navy blue sofa with a matching chair, angled towards the television.

On a stand beside the sofa sits a white telephone. Lindsay picks up the receiver and dials a number. An answering machine eventually comes on. Lindsay sighs with relief, yet still is not sure that she should leave a message.

“Hi mom,” says Lindsay, a greeting that should have sounded less content, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. Well, as okay as you can get when you feel like a complete outcast.” She lets out a nervous chuckle. “I’ll call you sometime soon.”

She begins to shuffle her feet again. Just say it, she’ll know what you’re talking about.

“I hope you’re not going to tell him where I am,” Lindsay mumbles. “I just need some privacy. Bye. I’ll call you soon, I promise.”

She carefully places the receiver back on its hook, and sits down on the suede sofa. Lindsay finds the remote, and turns on the television. She tries to find something interesting to watch, and stops at a news broadcast. The camera is set on a small corner store, across the street from where Lindsay used to live. The news broadcaster soon shows up on the screen:

“It was described by witnesses that at eleven-thirty last night, a man of approximately twenty-five years of age came into this corner store and demanded money from the owner, 56 year-old Gary Porter. Gary refused and was shot three times—once in the shoulder, and twice in the chest. Police have speculated…”

“How ironic,” mumbles Lindsay, trying to find humor in her situation.

“Hey Gary,” greets Lindsay as she makes her way through the canned food section, “you wouldn’t happen to have the new Toronto Sun, would you?”

Gary pulls one out from behind the counter, and hands it to Lindsay. “Your mom looking for the Bingo numbers again?” he asks with a grin.

“As always,” Lindsay replies, pulling change out of her wallet.

“I’ve never met anyone as persistent with buying lottery tickets as your mother,” Gary comments with a jolly laugh. “She could easily be in the record books.”

Lindsay smiles. “Under what?”

Gary takes Lindsay’s money and throws it into the cash register. “Under the most consecutive ticket purchases with no wins.” Gary notices that Lindsay seems distracted. “What’s up?”

She only shrugs, not making eye contact. “Oh nothing, I just didn’t get very much sleep last night.”

The store-owner looks intrigued. “Why is that?”

Because you’re going to die. “You know me,” Lindsay jokes, “always drinking tea after six o’clock.”

She picks up her newspaper and begins to walk out. “Good-bye,” she says. As she opens the door to leave, Gary stops her.

“You know I hate good-byes,” he says with a smile. “It’s not like you’re never going to see me again. You should say something like, ‘so long,’ or ‘see you tomorrow,’ never good-bye.”

Lindsay forces a smile. “So long then.”

Gary grins. “That’s better.” He begins to wipe the counter as Lindsay exits.

Good-bye Gary.

Lindsay shudders, changing the channel. Why couldn’t I have been wrong, just this once? Someone knocks at the door. Lindsay jumps. She walks quickly to the door, her stomach tying in knots. She slowly opens it, and sees William. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Do you need anything yet?” he asks.

Lindsay frowns, still a little shaken by the surprise visit. “I haven’t even been here for twenty minutes, how could I need anything?”

William shrugs. “You’re the only person staying here right now and I’m really bored.”

“If I need anything, I’ll let you know, just like I said I would.”

“Are you sure you don’t want food or anything?”

Lindsay glares, and shuts the door. She laughs, and is surprised by her sudden outburst.

Blonde hair is strewn across her face. The girl sits in her room, tearing up photos in frustration. She is angry at her father and at his rejection.

“I can’t honey,” he says, not even looking at her, “I’m busy. But maybe we can tomorrow.” He says it as if everything will now be fine.

He sits in the livingroom, watching television. Tormented thoughts flow through his daughter like a disease.

He leaves for work the next morning. The girl watches him leave through her bedroom window. She runs to the bathroom, searches through a drawer, and finds her father’s razorblades.

Lindsay sits up in her bed, her heart unable to slow down. Instinctively, she runs to her window and opens the blinds. Across the street is a man leaving for work. As he walks down the front steps, Lindsay looks up to see a small girl, with long blonde hair. Her face is red, her eyes fiery. The father opens his car door, placing his briefcase in the passenger seat. He waits for a clearing in the road, and drives away. Lindsay looks up at the girl’s bedroom window. She is gone.

Lindsay kneels, unable to take her eyes away from the home. She is tempted to run across the street and stop the girl, but can’t.

She turns and sits on the floor, hugging her knees.

“So many regrets,” she whispers. As she leans her head against the wall, she shuts her eyes, trying to shake the horrible pictures from her mind.

Lindsay decides to spend the day looking at her new surroundings. As she walks through the hotel lobby, purse strung over her shoulder, she sees William at the front desk. He is talking on the phone; a worried look is on his face.

“Is she going to be okay until I get there?” he mumbles, but Lindsay is still able to hear him.

She stops to say hello before she leaves. William notices, and pastes a smile onto his face.

“Can I call you back?” he asks the person on the line. “Okay, great. Bye.” He hangs up.

“I just wanted to know where you recommend I visit,” Lindsay says. “I’m going sight-seeing.”

William shrugs. “You only have one street to go down, then you’re in a completely different town.”

Lindsay nods, noticing that William didn’t bother making his words sarcastic. “Do you know of any buildings that have vacancies? I may as well do something useful today.”

“Well, there is the one across the street,” William shuffles papers nervously. “I wouldn’t recommend going there right now though.”

Lindsay tries to hide her unhappiness. “Yeah,” she mumbles, “no kidding.”

William looks up. “Pardon?”

Lindsay smiles. “Nothing.”

William continues to shuffle papers, which makes Lindsay even more suspicious. “Is there anything wrong?”

William shakes his head. “No, I just have a lot of papers to sort through. I don’t even know what half of them are for.”

Lindsay nods, and waves good-bye to William as she exits the hotel. She walks outside into a sea of news vans, reporters, and cameras. Reporters speak in front of the apartment building, which has been surrounded with police tape. An ambulance is near the entrance. Lindsay looks around at the distraught people, blankly staring, all are speaking in low voices. She sees the girl’s father standing limply by the steps, and what looks like permanent devastation on his face. Lindsay is tempted to talk to him, but she restrains herself.

There is nothing I can do. Sadly, she continues her walk, passing by many bulky cameras on her way down the now busy street. She places her hands in her pockets, walking with no specific destination in mind.

A hospital room. An old woman is lying in bed, asleep. William is beside her, holding her hand tightly. It is silent, except for the sound of a heart monitor, beeping steadily. William does nothing but stare at her. He doesn’t look worried, but emotionless. There is nothing for him to do but wait. The nurse comes in to say that visiting hours are over. William nods and slowly stands. He kisses the woman’s forehead, and wipes her white hair away from her pale face. He puts on his navy blue jacket and quietly exits. The door shuts, and she departs.

Lindsay is awakened by a knock at the door. She quickly gets up and fixes her hair. She checks her watch as she walks briskly to the door, and opens it. It’s almost night already? It is William, wearing a navy blue jacket, which startles Lindsay.

“Hi,” he says, “I was heading into town and wanted to know if you needed anything before I left.”

Lindsay is unable to stop staring at William’s jacket.

William frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” replies Lindsay, nervously laughing, “I’m just… kind of tired, that’s all.”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” William begins to blush.

Lindsay shakes her head. “The walk made me really tired, but I’ve managed to stay awake.” What’s one more lie?

He sighs with relief. “That’s good. Do you want me to bring up food, or anything else before I go?”

“That’s okay, I’m not really that hungry,” says Lindsay. “You should just get to the hospital.” Oh no. Lindsay begins to bite her nails. Maybe he didn’t hear me.

This catches William’s attention. “How did you know I was going to the hospital?” he asks, looking suspicious.

I can’t get out of this. I can never get out of this. “I didn’t know,” sputters Lindsay, falsely confessing. “You’ve been looking unhappy lately, I just—

William chuckles. “Am I that obvious?”

Lindsay shrugs. He had never been obvious, even when first meeting him he acted like nothing was wrong. There is the sound of a car honking outside, which they both ignore.

William looks at the floor, his cheeks crimson. “It’s my mom who’s sick,” he says, clearing his throat. “She has been for awhile.” Lindsay nods, not needing to say anything. She was good with secrets. “I try to see her every day. Nothing ever gets said though; she’s so delirious from the medication they have her on.”

“Tell her you love her.” This may have come from Lindsay abruptly, but she didn’t care anymore.

William laughs. “She wouldn’t hear me, or remember for that matter.”

Lindsay smiles. “Tell her.”

William looks at Lindsay, his eyes glistening like a child’s who has just been promised something exciting. The look doesn’t last long. “What’s the point?” he asks bluntly. “It’s not going to change a thing.” He sighs, and slowly walks down the hallway. “I’ll see you later.”

Lindsay nods, shutting the door. She stares blankly. What’s the point? What is the point? The car honking breaks Lindsay out of her trance.

“Lindsay!”

It can’t be him. She runs to her window and opens the blinds. Across the road is a dark red car. A man, wearing a leather jacket is sitting in it with the window open.

“Lindsay!” he yells again. He looks up, and notices her looking down at him.

She opens her window. “Hang on!” she calls. “I’ll be right down!”

She quickly leaves her room, and makes her way to the front of the hotel. The man gets out of his car. They walk towards each other, Lindsay trying her hardest to stay calm.

“I told mom not to tell you where I was,” Lindsay says with a sigh, “I really need some privacy.”

“She didn’t tell me,” he replies. “I saw you on a news broadcast at lunch. You walked behind the broadcaster. I could tell it was you.” Lindsay shakes her head, unable to look at him.

“Mark,” she says quietly, “you shouldn’t be here.”

Mark chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Excuse me, but when my fiancée leaves without even telling me what’s going on, it tends to make you go a little crazy.”

“What’s going on is I need privacy. You’re not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be here. Just me.” Her shock makes her words scatter.

“Why did you leave? I thought we had such a good thing going.”

Lindsay stands in silence. It’s not going to last for much longer. “I had no reason to stay.”

“I don’t understand,” Mark says. “All you had to say was that you weren’t ready to get married. We don’t have to be engaged if you don’t want to be.”

Lindsay looks at the ground, kicking small stones out of her space. “It’s not that I’m not ready.”

“Then what is it?” Mark asks pressingly. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re never going to understand. Nobody is.”

“What do you mean?”

Lindsay shakes her head. “Nothing,” she mumbles, “just nothing.”

“You were so happy,” Mark says quietly. “Did I do or say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” he repeats.

Lindsay shrugs, even though she knows exactly what it is. “We’re never going to be happy,” she explains, “not even if we have everything we’ve always wanted with each other.”

“What are you talking about?”

I’ve said too much already. “It’s not going to last. You should be with someone who will be truly happy with you.”

“You’re not happy with me?” Mark stares at Lindsay, his eyebrows slightly raised.

Lindsay sighs. “You’re never going to understand. Just know that I’m doing the right thing by not marrying you, okay? I don’t want any hostility.”

He stares at her, eyes wide, mouth frozen. Darkness begins to cloak the sky as he takes a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with her. She can tell he is hurt, but she is not able to prevent it. There is nothing more to be said, not even good-bye. He begins to walk across the dimly lit street, unaware of car headlights coming quickly towards him. He turns to take one last look. As she runs towards him, she calls out his name, but does not get to him in time. Tires squeal; the sound of agony fills the night air.

Mark’s chest constricts as he watches Lindsay fall to the ground. He quickly kneels beside her. “Lindsay,” he says, his voice steady. “Are you okay?”

Lindsay doesn’t answer, and Mark starts to panic. “I’ll call an ambulance.” As he gets up to find his cell phone, Lindsay pulls on his pant leg. He looks down at her.

She swings her eyes upwards and takes in a slow, steady breath. “You’re shoelace is untied.”

Mark looks down at his shoes, and both are tied. He stares at Lindsay, confused.

Lindsay sincerely smiles. “Made you look,” she whispers. Her head rolls to the side, and she departs.