Page 200 - creative spark 2020

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I close my eyes and pray for it to stop. “Help! Help!” I start to
hear the sound of bones snapping which makes me want to run
away from all of this, but Tod’s voice encourages me to gather my
courage to stand and open my eyes.

I see Tod being pulled face-first towards the rotating ceiling
fan. I choose not to help him and follow my instinct to run towards
the door, away from the horrifying scene, away from our friendship,
away from Tod my best friend.
I open the door, ignoring his last cry for help. I hope that he
will be fine. However, as I am running down the corridor, I turn and
look over my shoulder to see his head moving through the incisive
penetrating fan. His screams ring in the corridor and my head.
I keep running faster and faster until I pass through the
same archaic motel door. There’s no questioning from the dull
receptionist. She seems to know what has happened to us.
Fortunately, my car is waiting for me at the front door. I tell the driver
to drive as fast as possible back to my house, to the warm hug of
my parents.
Along the way, I think about the incident and try to delete it
from my head. I try to start a conversation with my driver but he
does not answer. Then, I suddenly remember something: I told him
that we would leave after two nights, so how does he know that
I want to leave in the middle of the night? At that moment, my driver
unnaturally turns his face back 180 degrees and looks me in the
eyes. His mutilated face seems familiar. It has the face of my best
friend Tod. The thing with my friend’s face turns back the car and
heads back towards the motel.