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Chapter 2
Aspen Resort was an immense structure located in the dead center of nowhere. Only the surrounding trees rivaled the log structure, their coniferous needles coated with a soft layer of fluffy snow. Besides the trees, occasionally splintering off to create a small enclosure for ice ranks and hills for skiing, the town of Aspen was devoid of anything that remotely resembled a normal city. There was no theater, no restaurant, no mall. Of course, there was no need for any of that. Not with Aspen Resort.
I was all too familiar with the commodities that came with the tourist trap. It drew you in like a fly to a spider web, entangling you until you became stuck. And no, I am not being dramatic.
I really hated Aspen Resort, my home for the better part of my seventeen years.
There might’ve been a time, when I was an infant, where I lived a semi-normal life. I have a vague recollection of a petite house nestled in a suburban neighborhood. Of course, that could all just be a wistful fantasy I had constructed from the various books I read and television shows I watched.
I only found one spot peaceful in all of Aspen Resort. It was a relatively small room when compared to the rest of the building, but it was my own. The diminutive poolroom was usually abandoned. A couple of years ago, my parents decided to create an indoor water park and an Olympic size pool near the lobby of the resort. That left the old pool – which I coined the wannabe beach – all by its lonesome, a considerable distance away from the rest of the amenities the resort had to offer.
The wannabe beach consisted of nothing more than a few tables, ornamented with colorful umbrellas, and a makeshift plastic sun in the far corner of the room. The walls were painted with what were supposed to be palm trees but were beginning to fade away from years of neglect. I was honestly surprised my parents still allowed this room to exist in their perfect resort. I assumed they forgot about it, just as they often forgot about their daughter.
I pulled my brown hair up into a disheveled bun. Surveying myself in the mirror, I bit my lip. When had I gotten so skinny? Even in my one-piece bathing suit, a stylish, black number with silver adorning the top, I could see the curves of my hips. The thought should’ve worried me. Once upon a time, itwould’veworried me. Now, all I felt was…empty.
There was no other word to describe it.
My gaze flickered to my arms, visible with my bathing suit. There was no way I could go to the pool like that, even if it was empty. The halls were always bustling with people. Sighing, I reached for my coverup inside my dresser. Long-sleeved, of course, and falling just above my knee.
My father would reprimand me for wearing such an outfit.
“A whore!” he would announce. “You shouldn’t be showing so much leg.”
My mother, on the other hand, would look me over with a critical eye and demand that I show more of my body.
“It’s important for business, sweetheart.” It was always the same tone with her. Haughty and imperious, with a set to her chin that came from years and years of power. The type of tone that made me squirm just thinking about it.
Letting out an exasperated grunt, I grabbed my book off my chair and tip-toed out of my room. I needed to be careful that I didn’t alert anyone to my presence – from my parents, to the guards, to Mr. Buttlicker that I just knew I’d find lurking somewhere near my bedroom. It wouldn’t be the first time that my parents handed out such information, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
Finding the hall empty, I stealthily crept towards the elevator, sighing with content when the light dinged. The wannabe beach was at the ground level, below even the lobby. It felt like years until the doors finally slid open.
Walking briskly past the occasional straggler – though what idiot would be up at this time of night? Wait. Me.I’mthe idiot. – I moved to the door at the end of the hallway. I was always wary about swimming laps, even when I knew the area remained abandoned most of the time. If one person was to walk in and see me…
If one person was to see my arms…
Boisterous laughter interrupted my musings. Frowning, I pushed open the door…to see the pool swarming with teenagers.
Those filthy sons of bitches…
I gritted my teeth together and resisted the urge to throw my book at the nearest person. I was really, really,reallynot a people person. And I was really, really,reallylooking forward to some time by myself.
Maybe if I shitted in the pool…?
My mind ran through all the possibilities.
Oh God. I was officially losing my mind. Soon, I would be huddled in a bunker muttering about the old woman that dared speak to me in the grocery store.
I debated whether I wanted to escape back to my room. The option was not tempting. Knowing my luck, and my parents, I’d find Buttlicker waiting for me. I trembled with revulsion at the thought.
No, I would much rather take my chances with drunk teenagers than old perverts.
Spotting an empty chair in the corner, I hurried to sit down. I learned long ago how to ignore everyone around me. To drift away, to empty myself so I would feel nothing at all. It wasn’t the safest coping mechanism, but it got me through the day.
Sort of.
I turned blindly to a page in my book, my attention momentarily fixed on the scene before me. I wondered if a school group was here. Usually we only got old farts, rich families, or the occasional teenager coming up for their school break. Never this many, and never ones that seemed to all know each other.
Girls and guys were making out in the pool. A group was playing a game of water volleyball. Chicken fighting over in the shallow end. A game of spin-the-bottle.
