I got You

Chapter 10

Marinela

Would you stop? Just stop. it's enough, I can't...I can't take it anymore. It's enough. I think if I wanted to end it, I would. You know it too. We both know. What I am feeling, what I think of myself...so just stop! You're not helping. At all.

I want to do that but I'm a coward. Yes, and you know that. Of course, of course, because it feels like there should be more. I can move on if I want to. If I can forget everything, but I can't. I know I'm not doing anything to get "the more," but I don't know if there can be. If something can be done.

Why, why won't you leave me?

Please.

I slam the door of my car as I get out of it and...it's actually not my car. But screw it, I have no strength to think about it anymore. To think whose car it is. It just doesn't matter. It's mine now.

I start walking. I need to go somewhere. I need...I need to get out of this. It's too much, it's just too much. I can't stand it. It's unbearable. I can't go forward. There's no point in doing anything from this point on. Everyone I loved is gone. Of course, I do have some relatives. But I don't love them. They mean nothing to me. Never did. You know how the family s**t goes. You meet with them at birthday celebrations, but that's it. You pretend you enjoy seeing them and hanging out with them. But you don't. You do that for the sake of your parents. You try your best, so you don't embarrass them.

If I knocked on anyone's door right now, no one would care. Everyone would be blaming me. I have myself to blame for what happened. And that's enough. I would c***k if I were to be judged by someone else too.

I had my revenge...in some way. It didn't make me feel better. It just can't make me feel better. And then this...this man, this stranger. I didn't get to find out what he was after, or who he was. I didn't even know him, and he saved me. He gave his life for me, and I would never get the chance to thank him. To say thank you. It just kills me, it suffocates me...all of this, it's just too much.

I don’t know where to go. What to do. I don't want to do anything. I don't feel like I deserve to be the one that survived that night, but I am.

What's the point?

Why?

What for?

There is definitely no reason for it.

Thinking back now, he was all built up, he could fight, and he was strong. I doubt he was just a regular guy. Something tells me he wasn't. And he handled that whole situation very well. He was too f*****g calm.

Who was he? All those skills and...he decided to give them all up. For me. For a piece of s**t like myself. If I had the chance to talk to him one more time, I would say thank you. If I had that same chance with my mom and Martha, I would say forgive me and I love you. But I don't.

I exhale heavily as I walk towards the so well-known place I have been going back to for days and days. To the place the last person died because of me. To do I don't f*****g know what. Now, I don't even want to think about the other place where a part of my soul burned to ashes. Just like the place itself, because there won't be any going back from there.

It feels like what happened, happened. There are no witnesses. It's only me. It happened in my world only, and no one knows about it. No justice to be served.

Would all these tears do something? No.

Have they done anything?

So far, no. Still, they fall. And, I can't stop them. It's miserable. If I only accepted the job offer. Which was probably not going to be a normal job, but none of this would have happened. But I couldn't know. And I was stupid.

Well, my parents, my mom, my sister...they are just a memory now. Nothing is left from them. But, with him...that might not be the case. I mean, if I were the owner of that club, of that shitty place, or whatever it was. What would I have done with his dead body? I would have probably buried it somewhere, or burned it maybe, or threw it somewhere? Get rid of it in some way. Probably.

Clean everything up before the police come?

Definitely. Because that was one hell of a mess. Blood and body parts everywhere. And all that...just a couple of months ago. And now, there is not a single piece of evidence. Not even one sign of the violence and destruction. And it just hurts to see there is nothing left. Even if I went to see a doctor, a psychiatrist, they would probably think I'm crazy. They would think I stole his car, I stole his money. Or they might even think I killed him. So, I'm on my own. Like I didn't know that already?

But, what if the owner didn't do any of those things? What if I could find his body somehow, somewhere? Find it and then do what? Keep it? Carry it with me? Bury it, maybe? I don't have that kind of courage. Why do I even think about this? Why do I even think about finding his body? Maybe there is a part of me that wishes, hopes he's still alive, since I haven't seen his dead body yet. In order to believe he's really gone I need to see it for myself.

But, what for? My own selfish reasons? Maybe I would be able to move on, or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would just give up on life. But one thing is for sure. I can't keep on doing what I'm doing. I just can't. I say I can't take my own life because someone sacrificed his own life to give me this life.

Oh my God, this is so much.

But then, I'm not living the life I was given. I'm exhausting myself. If I continue like this, I will probably end up losing it in some way. All I do is make his sacrifice look not worth making. I can't even eat any more. I can't do anything. My stomach feels like it's all tied up. Though, I should probably get ready for all the laughter, happy faces and excitement that would hit me in a minute.

All of them. They have so much more than I have right now. But it might not last. We all think what we have will stay, and we take things for granted. But that's not always the case. We're all in one big danger. I mean those guys are still somewhere here. All these people I see in front of me think they have their lives settled. They think they have it all figured out. They fight for the same things; a happy life, work, spending time with their family, going shopping, thinking about the future, planning their next vacation...But, they don't think about the danger.

Neither did I.

If I warned them, would they listen to me? I wouldn't either. Instead, I would probably end up in a mental hospital. Just like Sarah did from the Terminator franchise. She warned them all, but no one listened. She had to take things in her own hands, for them to wake up. Which is what I should probably do. Maybe that's why I survived. Maybe not? I don't f*****g care if that's the reason or not? I'm going to believe that's the reason. And I'm about to do something about it.

I turn back, and for once in a long time, I know what I am going to do would be right.

* * *

"Hi! I would like to book a room for one please", I say in English.

"Of course. May I have your passport please?".

"Sure, here it is".

How do I ask about him, I think as I slide the requested item to the receptionist of the Marriott hotel.

"All done, like it was requested"

"Thank you"

"You're welcome. The bell attendant will help you with your luggage and show you to your room. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact us".

I am standing in front of the room I was being held in three months ago, or at least I thought I was, and can't f*****g believe I am here again. But, I am not going to enter that room. I am entering the room opposite it. That is the room the attendant showed me to. I say my thanks and tip the bell attendant before I close the door. When I turn, I see...a room. It is similar to the one on the opposite side of the corridor. Taking a shower would probably be the best idea I can come up with right now, so that is what I do. After I am done showering, I decide to have a look in the mirror attached to the wall opposite the bed, just above the drawer.

That was a mistake. Clearly. Did I really think a shower would make me look better? I did. And I still do when I come so close to the mirror, I should practically be able to see the fog my breath makes on the mirror. Except I don't.

I reach out with my hand to touch the mirror, but my hand goes right through it and it touches the wall behind it.

What the f**k?

Instinctively, I withdraw my hand and take a few steps back. It is a mirror Marinela. You can see your reflection in it, it looks like a mirror and therefore...it is a mirror. Just to prove to myself I haven't gone completely crazy I walk closer to it, and touch it again.

Holy s**t!

That is not a mirror.

It looks like a mirror, but it is actually a light that creates an image of a mirror. It has to be coming from somewhere. Once again, I push my hand through the light and let it rest on the wall. Then, I slide it up the wall and... Bingo!

It feels like a bag. It is either attached to the wall or it is simply hanging onto something. I try to lift it up, and to my surprise it slides up easily. I separate it from the wall and the image is gone.

It’s a black bag. With a small camera, and some weird wires attached on the front side of it, which probably created the realistic mirror-like illusion I just witnessed. I walk back to the bed and place the bag there for investigation. I probably shouldn't do it, but my curiosity gets the better of me. It is a laptop bag, hiding an expensive looking, black...well laptop. There is no going back now, I am turning it on.

Well, that was one hell of a start.

Not at all. I am pretty disappointed. All the screen does when I turn it on is create a small white bar with a black background behind it. I try some general terms and unique names to unlock it, but it won't accept any. Useless piece of technology. I doubt every room has one of these in. It must belong to someone. A guest, perhaps? Someone forgot it and didn't come back after it...yet? I should probably leave it at the reception.

Which is what I do.

"Hi...um...has anyone used the room I am in, recently?"

"Hi. No mam, everything was done as requested".

"Okay. How long has it been since the last person used it?"

"More than three months. As I said, we did everything as requested. Is there a problem with the room?"

"No, there is no such thing".

"I was just wondering how long it has been since the last time it was used, thanks".

"I assure you mam, we strictly followed the instructions given to us".

"What instructions?"

"The instructions for the room given by your husband, Mr. Hatcher. Tobias Hatcher".

"Sorry, can you repeat that again?"

"Yes. We strictly followed the given instructions by Mr. Hatcher to not book his room to anyone else, but you, Miss. Hatcher".

"My...m...m...my husband"?

"Mam, are you okay"?

"Yes, of course".

No, I'm not.

"This is too much," I mutter under my breath and place my hand over my chest to slow down my breathing.

"I apologize, I couldn't quite catch what you just said".

"I said that's how he is, he is..." I take a moment to think about choosing the right word that could describe him the best.

"He is full of requests". I smile. The receptionist smiles back, before she speaks again with a soft voice.

"Can I do something else for you, mam?"

I answer, "No, that will be all, thank you".

I turn back and leave. But, before I enter the room I get a strange feeling that makes me turn around. And that is when I notice a black suit, standing at the other end of the hallway. That gives me some pretty good chills. My sanity can't really be trusted these days, so I look back in front of me. But, I have to be sure, which is why I turn around once more. No one is there. It's just my mind playing with me.

Once I am back in the room, I simply plop on the bed and close my eyes.

Breathe.

It is your mind messing with you...ignore it. There are far more important things to care about. Or questions? Yes, when did all of this happen? A pre-booked room, a new identity and a new relationship status? Why? What for? What was his plan exactly? What should have happened if we got out of there safely?

Gosh...

The laptop! I have to find a way to unlock it. There has to be something on it that can help me, since he wanted no one else to have access to this room, but me. Well, I guess someone had to enter to clean around, and that is why he had to hide it. That was actually a nice trick. Why would someone bother to clean a perfectly clean mirror? I wouldn’t. I didn't, when I worked in a hotel. Those were easier times, but I thought those were the worst. I thought I couldn't have ended up in a worse place. I certainly did. But, maybe it won't happen again if I get access to this account.

Come on...

How the?

What did I miss the first time? How did it turn on? That is weird, but I haven't got the time to think about it. I'm going to use every second I have to find out more. And that is all I get. There is nothing here. No files, no applications...it is completely empty.

"f**k you!" I shout.

Wait, what is that? Something is moving. Why is something suddenly moving inside you, pal? Are you going to self-terminate now?

This is scary.

I throw away the device from my lap and it lands on the carpet in front of me. The hit does nothing to it. It keeps doing whatever it was doing.

Crap!

The noise intensifies and I brace myself for something, anything, but except for a mini card looking slot popping out, nothing else happens. I warily walk closer and lower myself to kneel down next to it. The slot is actually a mini drawer. With a super polished silver ring waiting inside. This is really beginning to look like a marriage. How I concluded the f*****g ring was for me, I have no idea. It probably isn't, but I am putting it on anyway. If this is my end, so be it.

Motherfucker, that hurt!

I swear a needle just entered the skin on the side of my finger. Great. I can't even remove it now. Neither can I see what is so special about it until I turn my head in the direction of the laptop screen. There is no specific reason why I do it, but I am glad I did it. Because a message appears on the screen, reading "Calibration completed".

Huh?

Suddenly, the pain is gone, and the ring feels just right. It is incredibly easy to slide it off my finger as well. This is beyond what my brain is capable of digesting, and staring at the foreign object on my finger won't make things clear, but I still do it. Maybe if I direct my focus on the screen, I will figure out some more. No can do. It turned off just the way it turned on. And that is very normal, because that is what every computer does. It has a mind on its own.

Fuck this!

I got places to be, people to find. It's not like I know where to head next from here, but I certainly can't be wasting my time with a useless piece of technology. Well, at least that is how I see it.

I take the laptop, get my stuff and leave the room. I remember running down these stairs not more than a few months ago. Panicked, scared to death. That is not happening this time, because I have never walked down some stairs at a slower pace than I do now. It's a single move that proves I am in control this time. My life pushed me down, but I am deciding to get up.

Everything I knew of is lost, including my identity.

Which is just the thing I need.