See You Soon

Locking the door behind me, I quickly find a hefty chair, wedge it in front of it, and check the room for anything unusual. The neutral colors in the room make the room feel warm and cozy. Yet, it smells of bleach, Fabuloso, and stale smoke. And I can’t shake the feeling that I am going to die.

I mean, had you told me days ago that I would be sitting in room 512 at The Budget Motel in El Paso, Texas, waiting for the FBI to take me into hiding; I would have laughed in your face. Or had you told me I would become an only child at 31; I would have called you crazy. Yet, here I am, and they are on the way. And you my friend are neither funny nor crazy, I knew this was a bad idea. I said this was a bad idea. I had a bad feeling from the jump.

Smoke burns my eye as I take the last drag of my cigarette.

A vibration in the crevice of the crumpled duvet, that I can’t stop balling in my fist sends a wave of panic that thunders a deafening pitch in my ears. The message on the bloodied flip phone reads –

I saw you watching me, Little Kitty. See you SOON!

The springs in the mattress squeak at the uncontrollable trembling of my body. The beige walls with their intricate modern designs blur; the dark brown carpet becomes an endless pit; the ceiling’s about to fall in on my head.

Suddenly, three loud knocks at the door send me sprawling on the floor as if they were gunshots. As still as possible I hold my breath.

Again, three loud knocks. “Xanthi? Xanthi Ramirez? It’s Agent Hector Utsidihi with the FBI. Would you please open the door?” the voice coming from the other side is rough and hoarse like it belongs to a man who spent years smoking.

Still frozen on the floor I can’t bring myself to get up.

“Xanthi look,” his voice softer now, “I know you’re scared, as you should be, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

Frozen with fear, I have no idea what to do. I need to find a way out except this is a motel there is only one way in and out. The windows don’t open.

The agent fumbles around from the other side of the door and slips his business card under it. The footsteps trailing off into the distance send a wave of relief that melts me to the floor.

With a thousand pounds of pressure weighing me down all I can manage to do is notice the water stains in the ceiling.

Suddenly the door crashes open coming off the hinge.

“Hello, little kitty. Your turn,” He laughs deep and low, ducking a little as he walks through the doorframe. His dark hair is slicked back. His brown eyes pierce through me like knives.

Frozen with fear my lungs won’t even contract for air.

He bends down in front of me with his arms out.

I close my eyes and prepare for whatever comes next. Nothing happens. I open my eyes just in time to see my attacker yank a blow dart out of his neck. Stumbling he redirects his attack toward Agent Utsidihi.

The agent prepares to strike again only to have the blowtube knocked right out of his mouth, as my attacker connects with a flawless right hook.

Attempting not to get trampled I quickly grab it and blow. Only to realize that the dart won’t go far with my smoker’s lungs. I pick it up off the floor, jump on the bed and lunge onto my attacker's back. Sticking the dart in his neck just as he flings me across the room.

Scrambling to my feet, I make for the door. But right, when I reach the threshold, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my neck. The door rotates, except it’s not the door, it's me.

“Sorry, Xanthi. I will explain later.”

The agent's face is distorted and blurred. I can’t make out his words. I feel nothing, not my legs or my arms, nothing. Then darkness, a black blacker than black, appears out of the corners of my eyes. Making its way to the center of my vision until all I see is black.