someone journeying through endless plains, hallucinations of salvation but they're not true
30MIN
It provided Grace little solace to see the pages and pages of tallies in her journal counting the days it had been in her search for freedom.
After all, a story of journeying through the wide open plains every day was far too banal to keep a diary. She hadn't known how long it had been since she was in that horrific city, but even envisioning the torture she'd be put through if she'd stayed fueled her every step, every heave of her bulky knapsack.
But the longer she traveled, the more she saw that there was no disparity in the insanity she felt either in the prison or in her escape. The sun seeped into her frock and her hair clung to her face. Grace looked up, a feeling of utter helplessness sinking her shoulders. She had never felt so isolated-not even accompanied by a cloud for miles around.
Grace didn't know how long it had been since the sun had risen. She assumed it was midday, as it had already halfway made its journey through the sky. She jigged her sagging knapsack so that it hitched up her back a bit more, and trudged on through the uniform grass. Grace looked about her plain surroundings. However, instead of being greeted with the same old view of endless green land, for once there was a small figure in the distance.
Grace didn't think twice before darting towards the blob. Her possessions clunked in her knapsack. Her clammy palms slipped on the straps. Her knees buckled every now and then. But the prospect of finding someone else in this segregating environment made her heart beat just that little bit faster, made her push forward just that little bit further.
For the first time in ages, Grace was deliriously smiling at the possibility that she had found her safe haven. The blob began to take form and shapes and lines came into view. Grace's feet skidded, the girl staggering as her lips parted at the sight before her. She wiped at a sheen of cold sweat that had formed on her forehead.
A imposing, grand hotel loomed over her. It was a wonder she hadn't seen it ages before-this building stretched up to the bare skies. Even the hundreds of window panes scattered across its surface appeared to be coated in gilt.
The mahogany door swung open, beckoning Grace to enter. She took a few tentative steps. Heart pounding, she push the door further open as she ogled at the inside.
Her knapsack tumbled to the ground. It was as if the inside was even bigger than its shell suggested, if that was possible. Beneath a resplendent chandelier, the hotel was full of bustling butlers and servants with neatly trimmed mustaches. Satin and silk draped the walls, and a spiraling staircase led up to rows and rows of shimmering hotel room doors. Grace swore she could see her reflection in the spotless marble floor, as she whipped her head round.
An elegant receptionist was ensconced upon a plush seat, seeming to beckon Grace over with her coy gaze.
Grace meandered over to her. Attempting to smooth back her greasy locks, she tried to make conversation with the first human she had come into contact with for ages.
"Hello, do you think I could stay here?"
The receptionist continued to smile at her with glossy lips, her eyes glassy.
"Hello? Is this a hotel?"
The receptionist continued to beam, almost menacingly. Grace waved a grubby hand in front of her unwavering eyes. "Hello?"
There was a faint rumbling sound in the distance as the receptionist continued to stare blankly. Grace looked about her; the servants had miraculously disappeared. The gilt-coated window panes dissipated into the air. The chandelier faded into nothingness. The hotel was crumbling into the air. Grace averted her gaze back to the receptionist-whose form was diaphanous as she vanished into thin air.
And as Grace looked about the wide open plains, accompanied by only her knapsack and the sinking sun, she dropped to her knees.
There had been no hotel, had there?
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