The Spark of Rebellion

POV: Vera

The roach makes its casual morning commute across the water-stained ceiling.

I lie flat on the sagging mattress, tracking its erratic path. I pull the thin, scratchy comforter tight around my shoulders, trying to block out the chill of the room and the lingering smell of stale cigarettes. My cheap motel room costs forty-nine dollars a night, and the door lock rattles if someone walks