A quick real story about the ugly little pervert boy on that cold musty wall...

Here I am in this dark and cold room.  Light drops of water running down my spine. I just came out from the shower( the first in 72 hours), but it was the fastest shower I ever had due that strange whisper into my ear. I saw a glance of that little blonde and messy girl, peaking at my nakedness, almost envious on my curves . It was just a glance, one blink of my tired eyes, and puff she was gone. But her whisper ...her cold breath into my ear... '' get out of here''...
 My eyes piercing trough  the  musty  canvas, looking for a beam of light , hoping that he will stop pouring out his ugly spirit. I can feel the hate, it surrounds me, but I keep telling to myself '' you have been awake for 72 hours straight, is just a dream'.
But it was not a dream.
 It was a small room, everything so old, older than the world itself. Old, dirty, smelly and decadent. I could almost see in that bed the maid who gave her soul while being submissive to her master. The wife loosing herself in that dusty mirror, waiting for her miserable time to pass and cursing the day that took her beauty. That dog barking mad at the small hungry rat...and that little boy ...Oh that little boy, if you could see the hate in his eyes.
Here lays the proof, 200 years old: a huge canvas portraying him and his little ugly dog( the ugliest dog you could ever see). Just across the bed, facing those huge pillows that I will have to sleep in.
I drag myself into bed, I need to sleep , I didn't sleep for 72 hours. The bed smells like rotten eggs and bloody flesh. I did not expect for America to be like that! Not for 70 bucks a night!
I curse the moment when I entered  this guest house and start to count the sheeps on the wall. That bloody old clock keeps me awake and the little boy on the wall keeps on winking...letting me know that he likes me. I remember I am still almost naked, did not have the chance to drop my towel and slip into my night robe.I can see his hand stroking the dog's head, up and down, up and down...at moments I can see his other hand reaching towards me, inviting me...omg there he goes, he is trying to rip himself out from that painting... and he keeps on winking , winking, almost glad I intruded his dirty old house.
Pervert ghost!
I fall asleep ...I don't know when...I don't know how. Perhaps I just fainted, for a long time...
A dog's barking gets me out of bed at 9 in the morning. No, not that ugly dog on the wall, but a real one. The dog of my hosts. They knock to my door to let me know that breakfast is ready. But I excuse myself, I try to convince them I'm not hungry.
How the hell could I eat out of those dirty hands?  Duh...
I pay them for the night but before I leave I make sure to let them know how bad I slept and how bad my bed smelled!
Provincetown, MA, 02657, USA, 2008. A guest house , 200 years old victorian house,  managed and let by  a couple of young dirty gays. Has the same features, old furniture, old everything. Nothing has changed but extremely dirty. So dirty you can smell all the visitors that once slept in those huge beds. 70 $ a night and you get bonus some ugly ghosts...and a really ugly boy that winks to every female that will sleep into his bed.  On the main street: Bradford street.
Later, in the summer months, I found out more about the history of that house. And is quite a history!
The room I slept in belonged to that little ugly boy and he did have a younger sister, a blonde curly one. So afterall it was not just me lacking a 72 hours sleep ...
Be warned!
P.s. That house belonged to them...