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I was a resident of a old hotel.
By chyua squires on 03.27.2017
It wasn’t strange, people moving in and out of the terrible old apartment complex. This new resident, however, had spooked even the worst of the other dwellers. He was tall with only 8 fingers, and was always found in his long off-white trench coat.
By Phoenix URL on 03.27.2017
what does the word resident mean to you?
the word resident means to me that you live in a certain place and you belong to that certain place .
By Shorty_2001 (jo) on 03.27.2017
The residents of the building universally hated their RA. He was anal about the cleanliness of their dorms and the communal areas, and he did spot checks constantly. He enforced curfew religiously and refused to allow for things like night classes that ran over or group projects that forgot about the time. Unfortunately, since he was the darling of the administration department, nobody could do anything about it.
By just on 03.27.2017
When you check in at a hotel/motel(whatev), you are a resident. When you are a resident, normally, you have to pay like, a gajillion dollars for the little bitty things. Don’t even get me started on the room.
By Julianne Engel on 03.27.2017
“Residents of the Creepy Hotel! You are now all in grave danger! Because of me!” the creepy, old man said with a creepy, old smile and a cackle. “MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
By Mystery Girl on 03.27.2017
As I wipe the week old crust from my eyes I feel the cold soiled linens beneath me. My stomach painfully growls of hunger but the very few things I could once still enjoy are now a sick form of torture. Breakfast was brutally thrusted into my mouth and lunch never came. As I attempt to undo my restraints a women walks in to my room. Her smock reeking of cheep cigarettes. She sits down and sets a try on my bed side table. “time for dinner”, she says. Another assorted pile of tasteless slop. I begin glare at her tired eyes as she shovels pureed peas down my throat. once she has had enough of my grunting and spitting she steps out but its not over yet. In come two more. Its shower time where I am stripped of all my clothing thrown into a chair and hosed down with ice cold water. I shiver and cry in dispair as I wait to be thrown into my cot like dead cattle. This is my life now. This is my home now. I am a resident.
By Onyx on 03.27.2017
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.