The day of rebirth

It was Labor Day weekend, and I'd shelled out for a family vacation. To "save money," my mom canceled the two double rooms I’d booked and shoved me into a roach motel. That night, some drunk dude broke into my room and… well, you can guess.

When my mom found out, she begged me not to call the cops. "It'll ruin your reputation," she sobbed. But then she turned around and squeezed $30,000 out of the motel owner and the guy who attacked me.

I spiraled. The trauma, the betrayal, my family’s constant nasty comments… It all became too much. I ended up… well, I tried to check out early. Permanently.

Then, I woke up. It was the day my mom forced me into that motel. "Mom," I said, "why don't you take the roach motel?"

Living a second life, I was going to make sure the tables were turned.

"A family suite sleeps four?" my mom shrieked at the hotel receptionist. "My little Timmy is only nine! He's not an adult! He doesn't count!"

"Ma'am, hotel policy," the receptionist said flatly.

It was happening again. The argument, the guilt trip… it all came flooding back. My brother, David, and his wife, Sarah, stood by silently while Mom turned to me. "Ashley, what are we going to do? There's five of us!"

What are we going to do? The trip was my treat. My bonus, my planning. But Mom made it sound like I was the problem.

"We could get another room," I suggested innocently.

"No way!" Mom cried. "The family suite was $200 cheaper! This is all my fault, trying to save you money!"

Save me money? David was a surgeon, raking in serious cash. Me? I was a graphic designer, constantly at the mercy of demanding clients. This trip was funded by my $500 bonus after three months of insane overtime. Mom had practically wrestled the money from my hands, insisting I treat the family.

I pasted on a smile. "Mom, I know you were just trying to help. There’s a motel next door, only $30 a night…"

Mom beamed. "Right! You can stay there, Ashley…"

"I already canceled the suite," I continued, my smile widening. "We can all stay at the motel. Two rooms will only be $60."

Mom's face fell. "What?"

"I canceled the suite," I repeated, grabbing my suitcase. "Let's go."

David and Sarah finally found their voices. "That dump? No way!"

"But… but you just said Ashley could stay there!" Mom sputtered.

"I can stay there, so can you," I said, leading the way out.

The motel was sandwiched between two adult stores, dimly lit and smelling faintly of bleach and despair. I checked us in – one room for me and Mom, one for David, Sarah, and Timmy.

As we walked to our rooms, the sounds of…enthusiastic activity… drifted from behind closed doors. Sarah looked horrified. "There’s a child present! This is disgusting!" She grabbed Timmy’s hand and turned to leave. David didn’t want to stay either, but he also didn’t want to spend money.

"Ashley!" he snapped. "We're on vacation, not a refugee mission! This place is uninhabitable!"

I put on my best innocent face. "I booked two rooms. Mom changed it...