I pull my suitcase into the room and kick the door closed with my foot.
I hurl the bag onto the bench and unzip.
Piling pieces of clothing into a sliding drawer,
I lay a shirt and pants on the bed and pull my shirt up over my head.
The door swings open and I jump.
“Get out!” I scream, covering my chest with the shirt balled up in my hands.
The stranger turns and walks back into the hallway.
I slam the door shut behind him, slide down the back of the door
and shoot my arm up to lock it,
But I can’t.
There is no lock on the door.
The door opens slightly, smacking my spinal cord,
then more forcefully, slamming me into the side wall.
“What the fuck??”
A man enters and stands in front of me, staring at me in my bra and jeans.
I draw my arms over my chest.
He reaches for my arms and I kick his hands away.
He turns and leaves the room.
I slam the door shut behind him and try to lock it,
But I can’t.
What is wrong with this door?
I pull it open to see the other side
And realize the lock is on the outside.
I run across the room and pick up the phone.
“Hello, front desk. How can I help you?”
“I need you to send someone up here and fix this door. Someone put it on backwards and people keep trying to get in!”
“Okay ma’am I need you to calm down. The door is not on backwards.”
“Yes it is! The lock is on the outside of the door and I can’t keep people out!”
The man begins laughing hysterically.
Someone begins pounding on the door.
I brace myself, but the door doesn’t open.
The pounding stops.
I move closer to it.
It is different
I try to lock it
And this time I can.