A place where hope goes to die

“AARRRGGGHHHHH!” The ceiling fan had batted another big black bug onto my face. I brushed it off. “GODDAMN BUGS! I’m not dead yet!”
The bugs were everywhere, in the kitchen, in the shitter, in bed, like a biblical plague. And it was hot, so hot. I had been stretched out on my bed staring up at the ceiling for a while. Nothing but ceiling up there.
“Holy mother,” I said, “I’ve woken up in some flops but this is probably the worst of the lot”
Ratface made some unintelligible noise in response. “ZXVHGBSFUHOUUAJGABEYB”
“I hear ya Ratface, what the hell are we doing here?”

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Flophouse II

The blackness devoured me fast. I couldn’t remember falling asleep but I was awake again. But almost immediately it began to shroud and eat me up once more but I could feel something in the room with the insects and us, something to the right of me, but no matter how hard I tried I could not move like there was something pressing down on me, and then I became frighteningly aware that there was SOMETHING in the room, without a doubt, and I was thinking that in the morning I would say to Boxhead, we have to leave here, we can’t stay, and I thought that I heard one of the girls scream, but it sounded tiny and very far away, and I was immovable. Everything seemed so heavy, my bed seemed amorphous and I was sinking deeper and deeper into it. I could feel the unseen thing right there, next to me, taste it. I squirmed and struggled and groaned and fought to penetrate the darkness with all my strength but the energy was not there then my eyes were suddenly open. I blinked them. Everybody was asleep. There was nothing else. I felt my eyes closing again and fought with everything in me to avoid the same dreams as I descended into unconsciousness.

Flophouse

They’re trying to get in the bathroom although the bathroom light is obviously on. I’m sat on my bed in the dark waiting to use the shower. One bathroom between 11. The old man has just gotten up. He is trying to get into the bathroom although the light is obviously on. Now he is standing in the darkness confused. A girl has just walked into the room and she’s trying to get into the bathroom although the light is obviously on. The old man has walked out of the room. I follow him to clean my teeth in the kitchen. He is standing in the light confused. I leave him stood there. When I return to the room he is back tottering around in the dark in his pants. Boxhead finally finishes in the bathroom and I jump up and run in there before anyone else can. The door rattles although the light is obviously on. The shower is cold like outer space. I finish in the bathroom and walk out into the darkness and shuffle toward my bed. I climb in between the covers still wet. Sounds emanate from the bodies in the dark. The old man is snoring, a deep, gross, snotty wheezing from hell.

How the hell am I supposed to read my book?