The road I took

There was a strange wailing sound coming from the next room And that was also the reason why I woke up. I was in dreamland and it took a while before I came to my senses. The clammy sweat on my body made me shiver with cold. That moaning, had I imagined it? I rubbed my hands over my upper arms to get rid of the shivers. It was silent for a moment and then I heard it again, reminding me of my mother.
I carefully climbed out of bed and put my ear to the wall. I was sure the sound was coming from the hotel room next to mine. Until now I had thought it was empty. In the month I had lived there, I had never heard a sound. No voice, television, shower or footsteps. The wailing continued and I stiffened in terror when I heard mumbling and then a knock on my door.
There was another knock but I decided not to open it. I had suffered enough and knew I could not trust people, especially men. What stood at my door was a man. I saw the shadow of his feet under my room door. Why was there so much space under this door? Had someone sawed off a piece? Afraid, I listened to the rumbling behind my door. Was someone planning to break in or look under the door to see if I was there?
I decided to pretend I was not there or if I was fast asleep. I pushed my body against the wall and held my breath. The caretaker could help those in need and if not, there was always the police or some other emergency service.
It became silent behind my door, silent in the room next to mine, and I too kept quiet. I had learned that interfering in other people's affairs can cost you dearly. I shivered when I thought of the horrors I had endured, the violence, yelling and kept looking around the dimly lit room. How long had I been standing here? Tomorrow I would leave and look for another room. I had been here too long. It was a good thing I didn't own too much. A rucksack or large handbag was
Enough to carry all my possessions.
The road behind me had been a long, bumpy one. The road ahead was just as indistinct as the one I had already walked.
It doesn't matter how long the road is, just put one foot in front of the other and focus on your first goal,' my mother had said before she died and left me with a notebook in which she had written down 366 sayings to live life. Living life' is what she had called this gift to me, this piece of her to me. I could not have saved her, but I had heard her words through her wails. I had done what she wanted and saved my life. She had died for me without knowing that I would be forever on the run and would never feel truly happy, free and loved.
Living life, and being happy is not so easy if you always have to keep everyone at a distance, I once read, man must have the feeling of doing something useful.
The road I had taken was not a harmless one, the future was unclear and my life like walking in a fog.
Silently I got dressed and left the hotel via the fire escape. I called the police from a payphone and gave them the room number. The room number where I had heard someone crying. Someone who I hoped would accept the help offered, something my mother had never been able to do.

Host: @freewritehouse

Prompt: @freewritehouse / pixabay.com

Promp yelling: @mariannewest