In a darkening desert landscape was a single red sports car on an empty highway.  A man, losing the enjoyment of cool wind in his hair and a disappearing sun on his face, was willing to do anything to keep this feeling.  In the distance, he spotted a light emanating from the horizon.  In the distance, he spotted an orange glow flooding a deep hazy sky.  In the distance, he spotted the luxurious

Hotel California

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    John Thierry moved with speed down a narrow highway, with desert in front of him and desert behind him.  Cool wind swam through his hair and warm sun lit up his face, he loved this feeling, but he could feel it slowly start to fade.  The sun was sinking below the horizon line as the orange sky got darker.  He looked out to it and furrowed his eyebrows.
    Where was he?
    He looked back to the road and slowed the car.  He came to a stop and lifted his sunglasses (where did he get sunglasses?) to his forehead as he stepped out.  Was he in a dream?  He looked at his hands and moved his fingers, clenching and unclenching.  He couldn’t be in a dream; he was in control of himself…  He walked around the front of the car and looked back at the sun.  He watched it move downward under the large barren desert, until it disappeared.  Definitely not a dream.  So where was John Thierry?
    He looked right and left for a sign of civilization, any sort of road sign or another car.  His good feeling was almost no longer there, and he desperately wanted it back.  It was then that he spotted a great glow, coming from where he was driving from.  He shouldn’t go back…  Something was holding him here.  He really shouldn’t go back.  But before he knew it, he was back in his car, heading for what seemed like paradise.

---

    He pulled his car (was it his car?) into the roundabout of a very large building.  Colored lights lit up a dancing fountain next to his car.  The hotel had a certain red glow to it, which separated it greatly from the dark desert.  White lights lit up the ground and the base of the hotel, leaving it hazy and beautiful.
    He stepped out and was greeted by a man in a gold vest.  “May I take your car, sir?”
    John looked at him for only a second as he was still in awe of the resort.  He handed his key over and looked right back to the hotel.  The man drove off somewhere behind the hotel, however John didn’t notice, nor care.  He walked towards the front doors and saw a sign shrouded in luscious dark green plants to the right of the entrance, ‘The Hotel California -- Anytime of Year, You can Find it Here’.
    As he approached the doors, two more men in gold vests opened the doors for him.  He said thank you as he walked in.  A warm, dark, blue, environment with very few lights was what he saw.  He took a look around; he could see a pool shimmering down a long hallway and a restaurant with dim chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to his right.
    “May I help you sir?”
    John turned to see a man looking at him with a friendly smile from behind the checkout desk.  Why was he here?  Did he want a room?
    He walked back towards the front entrance, to maybe drive away, or figure out where he was.  When he got to the door, however, he saw that it was locked.
    “We’re closed for the night sir.”
    John turned back around.
    “Would you like a room?”
    The man wore a gold vest like the doormen, or the man that took his car.
    He looked back out to the night and noticed that the doormen were no longer there.
    “Did the doormen go off duty?” John asked.
    “Well I’d suppose so, if they're not out there right now.”
    John looked at the parking lot, seeing it was empty, “Where’d they go?” he asked, “They couldn’t have driven away.”
    “No, I suppose not,” the man chuckled, “Not unless they took your car and drove off.”
    “Did they?”  John panicked, but only for a second.  Where would he go without his car?
    “No, of course not.  We at the Hotel California offer only the finest customer service.  Your satisfaction is our first priority.”
    John looked back down at the door handles and tugged at them one more time.  “Why do you lock the doors at night?”
    “Would you like a room?”
    John turned back towards him.
    “It’s a security measure,” said the man, “Would you like a room?”
    John looked back at the door handles, “Do I have a choice?”
    “Well, since you’re already here…”
    John thought for a moment.  What else was he going to do?  He didn’t even know where he was going, or where he would go.
    “I’ll take a room for the night.”
    “Fabulous sir, I know you won’t regret it.”
    He walked up the desk and reached in his pocket, however there was nothing in it.  He checked his other one, empty.  “I’m sorry I don’t think I have my wallet.”
    “That’s alright sir,” the man held up a key, “Your reservation has been made and paid for.”
    John wasn’t the type of person to turn down anything that was free, but he still found it strange that he was being offered a free stay at a (what must be) five star resort.  He took the key reluctantly, waiting for some sort of “just kidding” line, but the man just smiled, nodded, and then walked away, disappearing behind a black wooden door.
    He looked at the room number attached to the key, ‘Room 1.’

---

    When he stepped into his suite, he realized he didn’t have his luggage.  Did he have any to begin with?  He walked around the large living room and found a large flat screen TV along with a long leather couch and a mini fridge.  The kitchen was fully stocked with both snacks and cooking ingredients, however a room service menu sat on the counter.  The bedroom had a king sized bed and it’s own bathroom with a jacuzzi, a glass fronted shower, and a sauna.  However the whole condo didn’t have one window, which he found very strange.
    The more he looked around, the more he couldn’t find.  There weren’t any clocks, phones, computers, or chairs, beside the couch and the bed.
    He sat around watching TV for awhile but quickly found himself bored.  He got up and walked to the door to check out the pool.  A resort like this should have a pool bigger than any one he’s ever seen in his life.  He got to the door and twisted the knob, but it was locked.  He didn’t think anything of it until he grabbed his key and realized it didn’t fit into the keyhole.  He tried several times to shove it in, turning it upside down and rightside up over and over again, getting more frantic everytime he tried, but the keyhole refused to take it.  He tried to turn the knob one more time but it still wouldn’t go.  He banged on the door, asking for help from whoever would listen.  He banged on that door for fifteen minutes and he never got a response.
    He walked over to the walls and banged on them too, trying to wake his neighbors, but he never got a response.  He went back to the door and banged on it a few more times, but it only took a second to realize that he needed drastic measures.  He held on to the door knob and backed from the door bracing his shoulder.  It was as if the room was on fire and he desperately needed to escape.  He rammed himself against the door but it didn’t even budge.  He could feel the first time that it was never going to give, but he tried again.  And again.  And again.
    He tried to break the door down until his shoulder went numb, which was after it started to bleed.  He backed up and tried to kick it down, but his leg felt a shock like it never had before, and he gave up on his first try.  The silence around him was enough to hear his own blood run.  He wailed on the door with clenched fists and screamed as loud as he could.  Couldn’t anybody hear him?  He looked through the peephole and saw an eye staring back at him.  He yelped and fell back.  He got up and looked again, thinking that he might’ve imagined it the first time, but what he saw was definitely there.  Could it see him?
    “Hello?” he called.
    The eye backed away and he saw that it was the man from the checkout desk.  John breathed a sigh of relief.  “Hey man!  I’m trapped in here, you’ve gotta let me out!”
    The man stared through the peephole at him for a second or two, but eventually moved to the door.  John backed up and the man walked through.  “Oh thank god,” he said, “I thought I’d never get out.”  The man smiled and then closed the door.  “Hey!  Why’d you do that!  I--”
    “I don’t believe that I’ve told you what the Hotel California is yet.”
   John looked at him in silence, wondering what he could possibly finish that statement with.
    “Your satisfaction is our first priority, and it always will be.  And your stay here at paradise will always be free…  On one condition.”
    The man looked at him with light hearted eyes and a small smile.
    “You can never leave.”

---

    John Thierry woke up on the floor of his home and realized that he had forgot to unwrap the bandana around his arm and take the needle out of his bloodstream.  He sat in a guilty shame wondering what his parents would think of him if they caught him like this.  He had promised to them his whole life that he would stay away from drugs, and he had promised himself that he would never do something as bad or addictive as heroin.  But here he sat, feeling the effects of withdrawal, promising himself that he would never do it again.
    He already badly missed the feeling that it gave him and he desperately wanted it back.  It was at this moment that he put the needle back into his arm and pumped some more death into his body.  John Thierry shortly found himself moving along a dark desert highway, with cool wind in his hair and warm sun on his face.  He tried to make this his last trip on this particular highway, however he once again found himself with no escape at the Hotel California.