Duplicity [h.s]

16

Bursting through the door to my dim hotel room, my lungs were no longer accepting air into my system. The whole journey back felt like a distant dream, a chaotic nightmare. My chest was in so much pain, my mind cloudy from loosing oxygen to my brain. I tripped running towards the nightstand, crashing into it while throwing the drawer open in a shaky neurotic mess.

I grabbed the blue inhaler, popping the cover and bringing it to my mouth. I let the chemical air expand my throat, running a cold drift down my airways. I shut my eyes and felt like I was taking my first pump of air in years, for a moment I stopped shaking.

I sit down in the bed and did it again, letting more air cascade down my throat and into my body like medicine. There was an instant relief with it, like everything around me went quiet. I grabbed the bed sheets in my fist, enriching myself in the simplicity of the moment.

I pulled the inhaler back, putting it down. The shakes came back, the awful state of panic deep in my chest. I could breathe now, but if I didn't calm down then I'll rev myself up again to need the inhaler.

I got up off the bed, jogging into the bathroom in a rush. I clicked on the light and saw my worrisome reflection. My hair was a mess, my skin covered in sweat, and a blood imprint on my chin.

My eyes widened, not realizing that was there during my entire run home. I didn't take a cab because I didn't want to wait for one, I ran back to the hotel so I could get away as quick as I could. I can't run a lot because of my asthma, so I walked for some portions against my will.

I turn on the sink so it pumps hot water, immediately I run my hands under and bring it up to my chin. I start scrubbing with my hands, trying to get the residue of crime off. The was blood of a stranger, a stranger who is probably dead. I scrubbed my skin raw, getting the blood off but a stain still being left behind. My heart thrashed against my chest, my stomach a nauseous pit of fear.

"Please." I says to myself while scrubbing, praying it would get off my skin.

I noticed the red blood dried in a few strands of my blonde hair, my jaw dropping. That was where he tucked my hair behind my ear.

I ran that whole chunk of hair under the water, frantically scrubbing it like hell. My hands were shaking and fumbling with the hair, feeling numb at the finger tips. No matter how much I scrubbed it felt like it was tainted, that it would never go away.

I stood back up straight and gripped the counter edge, looking at my chin and seeing how red the skin was from my scrubbing a lot. I was too in shock to cry anymore. My mind was battling what to do next, because I know I had to flee as quickly as possible. I didn't know who to trust, I wanted to call Sal but what if he's in on everything too? I couldn't risk that.

I can't risk Harry finding out I go get help until I'm long gone and he can't get me.

I look down at the black camera dangling around my neck, realizing he had his hands on this too.

I grabbed it very gently, looking at it closer to see it also had blood all over it. You can only see it if you look closely at the buttons, but it was probably covered in it. The device was black so you couldn't notice it from a far.

I grabbed the strap and flew it off my neck, placing the camera down and stepping away from it. The near thought of a dead mans blood all over it made me never want to pick it up again.

But the longer I left the residue on, the more I was going to think about it. I had to clean it or I won't be able to move my mind past anything else.

I step forward again and turn on the sink, using soap and my hands to clean the device without ruining it. I held back tears while scrubbing it with the soapy water, covering every inch of it where his hands once were. Once I was done I placed it on the counter again to dry off.