The feeling is killing me. I couldn't stand in that muggy airport any longer. I had to get out. My skin was damp with sweat and my stomach churning. As soon as I sit down on an old nearby chair, the nausea takes over. My head starts to spin and the fact that I'm in danger begins to fog my brain. I can't think straight. Faces, numbers, and places run constantly through my head. Why did this have to be me? Why was I the one with this? Why did I have to know it all? Because that's what got me here, on the run in a third world country in an airport with nothing but a backpack and a plane ticket to my next hiding place. They're all after me, for what I know. For my brain and what it holds. The memories it possesses and the dark secrets I have acquired.
Bile rises in my throat and I frantically search for a bathroom. I find one on the opposite side and jump to my feet, stumbling over to the door. I burst through the door and trip over my own feet finally making it to a toilet. My knees drop to the floor and I prop my elbows on the toilet seat. My stomach turns and all of the contents that were in my stomach are now flushed down the toilet. I lean my head against the porcelain and try to calm myself and stop my head from spinning.
I slowly get back to my feet, leaning against the dirty bathroom wall. I stumble out to the sinks and lazily turn the knob letting the water run. Drying my hands on my pants, I exit the bathroom now thinking straight again. Taking note of the man standing outside the bathroom I walk faster. Taking a glimpse over my shoulder, I see him follow me, along with two others. I break into a jog making my way to the gate. Turning around, I see that they're gaining on me, so I run, then sprint as they draw closer. I reach the gate out of breath, shaking with fear, frightening the other passengers boarding the plane. I push my way to the front gladly losing the people following me in the crowd. I reach the front and tell the lady checking boarding passes and pant out,
"I need to get on that plane. Now." I flash my passport at her and her eyes widen and she moves aside allowing me to run down the walkway to the plane. Looking back one last time, I see them standing at the back of the crowd looking straight out of the big glass windows. At me.
YOU ARE READING
Fiction
Adventure"You must stay drunk on writing, so reality cannot destroy you." Ray Bradbury