Chapter 22 Motel

• “Kay, wake up,” someone says while gently shaking my shoulder. I open my eyes slowly, to be met with dazzling sky-blue iris. Sadness and regret quickly filter through them. 
• “Here, drink this.” Chris thrusts a bottle of water into my hand and turns away. He looks out of a dirty and dusty lone window, which is accompanied by old worn brown curtains. 
• Slowly I sit up. The smell of rotten foods and sour milk drifts into my nose.