Chapter 3: TWO - THE INVITATION
𝖎𝖎
THE INVITATION
"I'm sorry, miss. We did our best to save them, but it was too late."
Strength left my knees as I found myself shaken on the floor. Everything seemed like a blur. I couldn't hear anything except for what the doctor had dropped like a bomb. It blew my mind to pieces I couldn't think of coherent things. Loud cries of anguish sounded off somewhere behind me, syncing with my crushed will to stay upright . . . and maybe, to stay alive.
The doctor was still saying something but was all drowned in the background in an ear-deafening sheer static.
"N-No. That can't be true," I murmured as I kept on shaking my head; rich tears streamed down my cheeks like a wrecked dam.
This can't be h-happening. They're not─
"We're very sorry, Miss Vasquez."
I WOKE UP WITH a jolt. Sweat trickled down the side of my face as I panted heavily. The oversized t-shirt I had on was drenched. If someone saw me right now, they might have thought I ran a thousand miles. Despite the roaring of the air-conditioning unit set in twenty-two degrees Celsius, I felt hot yet ironically trembling still as I recalled the dream that had me awakened.
Or should I say nightmare?
I solemnly looked around the four corners of my dim room. Taking a series of deep, calming breaths, I reached out for the AC's remote control on the bedside table just alongside my digital clock—eyes growing wide to see that it was already past noon—and turned it off. Hastily, I ripped the covers off me and stormed out of the room just to be held back for a second when my gaze fell upon the two doors on either side of the hallway leading downstairs.
In an instant, transparent lived images of two people looking at me with their signature looks were there, standing by the door of their respective rooms, beckoning me to hurry. The tall girl with long raven hair had her arms across her chest as her white sneakers-clad feet tapped rapidly against the floor; her electric blue eyes piercing me with a frown. While the petite one on the right chuckled lightheartedly; her shoulder-length auburn hair slapping her freckled cheeks as she shook her head.
But as quickly as it came, it faded . . . like a thin fog blew away by a sudden gust of wind; leaving my line of sight, but not without casting its one-year-old curse, fashioning it into toxic thoughts of thorn crown that I had to endure again for the day.
For the rest of your life, you mean.
A projection of guilty imagination.
My throat went parch. Running a shaky hand against my neck-length, wavy hair, I chuckled miserably almost choking.
I shouldn't be here anymore. It was too painful to bear.
Hell, what am I even doing here all this time?
Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I walked past the rooms and absentmindedly descended on the stairs, heading to the kitchen. My right foot only managed to take a step on the kitchen floor when the doorbell to the gate rung thrice followed by a roar of a bike's engine speeding away.
And who that might be?
My eyebrows knitted together as I sauntered across the empty living room to the door, out of the house to the gate. There, a suspicious shiny black tip of something was protruding in the mailbox.
My hand, which was about to take it, hovered an inch for a second.
This isn't a bomb, right?
I looked around, feeling skeptical.
Maybe not.
With wariness, I slowly took it off the box just to discover a black zip-lock package.
A package? Who could have sent it? No one knew that someone was still living here.
Though still unsure, I quickly opened the package and took its content. It was a red velvet card with fancy letters EC insignia stamped over a gold candle-like thing the same with those Victorian-era-way-of-sealing-letters I've had seen countless times in television. What was it called again? Wax seals?
Curiosity must have got the better of me as I found myself breaking the seal . . . just to frown gradually, forehead creasing to wrinkles, as I read its content written in fancy letters as well. It said:
Dear Miss Celestine,
You are cordially invited to take part in the free three-month stay in Esotera Court Hotel as part of its pre-opening promo at Marsh Island, the first day of the following month. If you desire to accept this invitation, you may affirm your presence by calling the telephone hotline along with this letter.
We will be very delighted to have you at our hotel. We wish you a good day!
Sincerely yours,
Victor Ferreira
Esotera Court General Manager
I abruptly closed the card and inhaled sharply.
I could feel it in my guts that this freakin' thing was a damn scam.
Why shouldn't I? It was a hyped these days and this could be one of those.
Besides . . . Me? Selected?
Ha!
I didn't have any recollection of signing up for some ambiguous three-month free stay of some fancy hotel where God only knew where!
They must have been mistaken . . . there was no last name after the first name, after all. It could be someone else having the same name as I do.
Shaking my head, I returned the card inside the ziplock and shoved it back to the mailbox. I shot it one last look, eyebrows arching.
Right . . . they just made a mistake.
✴
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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