Y/N

   I looked behind myself and over my shoulder every five seconds, and I was pretty sure I wasn't being followed.  I pulled my hood up, and kept my head down. I walked pass a bar, in which people where throwing each other over furniture and singing Michael Jackson.
   Just thought I'd mention that, because it was fuccing hilarious.
   I smiled, and kept going. Eventually, I finally stumbled awkwardly through the doors of the Inn.
   Lola was the busgirl for the pubs part of the building, cleaning, sweeping. That sort of thing. She got paid to. I need a job.
   One day.
   Lola was pretty strong, and was lean. Her hair was dirty blonde, straight, and she held it in a loose ponytail. She had the look of someone who played sports.
   As she looked at me, she narrowed her eyes at the water pooling on the floor beneath me. I nod, and take a step back onto the mat. She nods back, and goes back in the kitchen, and returns with a towel. She throws it at me, I catch it, and start drying myself off. As in patting myself lightly because some scratches stung on contact.
   "You look like you just went through a train wreck underneath a tsunami." She mutters bluntly, looking me up and down.
   "Got jumped by a gang." I lied. Just dumping all my problems on the gangs.
    After I dried myself off, she let me into the wood floors, and gave me a quick hug.
   The pub was cozy. A little more modern of what you'd find in a fantasy tavern. The floors where dark wood, and the walls painted white. Booths and tables where scattered everywhere, and some fans on the ceiling were low enough to smack someone dead in the face if they had been tall enough.
   I shuffled over to the front desk, which was next to a staircase, which led to the lodging rooms.
   Lola's mother, AKA, Samantha, AKA, Mrs. Tinwell, looked mostly like her daughter, except her hair was light brown and held in a tight bun on top of her head with what seemed to be chopsticks. She wore a white blouse and black slacks, and her earrings seemed to be real pearls.
   She had the happy wrinkles of a proud mom, and a gentleness to her that practically screamed caretaker.
   I said a polite hello to her, and told her exactly what I had told the cop from Special Investigations.
   She had a look of pity, and immediately went to the back, and returned with a small first aid kit.
After being patched up, she gave me a key to room seven, and ordered me upstairs to get some rest. "And don't forget to wash up!" She said as I went up the creaky staircase..
   Sleep. Yeeeeesss.
YEEEEESSSSSSSSSS.
I opened the door, peeled off my damp dirty clothes, took a shower, and put on one of those fluffy robes I found in the wardrobe. I flopped onto the bed, and heaved a sigh of relief.
   And within a span of three minutes, I fell asleep listening to the sounds of a downpour.