Writing Prompt: Hospitality
The Girl was nervous. Her palms sweaty and she felt a bit ill. She had already drank the water provided and was fidgeting with the glass. Anything to keep her hands busy.
The Girl put the glass on the coffee table in the small room, got up from her chair and started to look at the items on the book shelf. A potted fern, books with words she could not read, a strange mask looking item held her interest for a while. She was about to touch it when the door to the room opened.
The only word the Girl could think to use for this woman was Matron. All in dark colors, hair pulled back tight. Her fingers were long and looked strong and deft. Hands that would teach her many lessons, some unpleasant she suspected.
Matron gestured for the Girl to follow.
No one had spoken in the time she had been here. Even the Guardian who dropped her off had said nothing. The Girl cleared her throat and made to speak. The Matron quickly turned her head and glared at her, frowning her disapproval.
Matron walked efficiently down the well worn halls passing many doors. Up a long flight of stairs that left the Girl breathless and staggering. She struggled to keep up with Matron. Matron did not slow her step and continued to walk briskly down the halls, making quick efficient turns.
When they finally stopped it was in front of a door. The Girl did not recall seeing any signs in the place as they had rushed about. This door was no different. The Matron gave the Girl an impatient look and gestured for her to open the door.
The room was as nondescript as the hallways had been, a small chair and a bed. Hooks on the wall for cloths. The Girl stepped in, hoping for something different behind the door. The only thing she got was the sound of the door closing behind her and the lock click into place.