Do not Disturb (Pt 1)

The sign was on the hotel door. “Do not disturb”. She would not be disturb, at least for the next couple of hours. Enough time to find out what had happened. Enough time to organize her thoughts and escape plan.

The best way to understand what was going on was to start working with a plan. Her head felt like it had mashed potatoes inside and not a brain, but it could still remind her of the simplest thing that she always likes to do: lists. She liked lists. They kept things organized, nothing was going to be forgotten and nothing excess would be done. They enabled her to be functional even on the most difficult situations. And her situations was difficult right now.

The tall woman moved around the mess on the middle of the hotel and went to fetch her purse. Inside she found a small notebook and a pen. With shaking hands she turned the pages. She passed one “shopping list” and one list named “vacations”. When she found an empty page, she finally started writing down. As the ink filled the empty lines, she started calming down. She felt like she could take hold of the situation again and it was of high importance to do it, soon.

As soon as she stopped writing, she read through it again. Satisfied with the result, she immediately started following the steps on the list. She had one hour and a half left, according to her estimations and her estimations were usually good.

• Take a pill for the headache.

That was easy, but of high importance. She needed to be highly functional as fast as possible. She rampaged through her green purse for a few seconds. She found the extra strong pills on the bottom of the purse and took one. In ten minutes she would be as fit as ever.

• Find gloves, and wear them!

She stood up from the armchair walked towards the bathroom, trying not to make contact with anything. She remembered vaguely that inside the bathroom was her bag with her make up. She also remembered that the day before she had bought some dye for her hair. Inside they always include gloves. She put them on.

• Cleaning stuff.

That was a difficult task. What could she possible find in a hotel room to clean? She didn’t really need to clean up all the mess perfectly, what she had to do was to clean up anything that could incriminate her. After all, she was too young to spend the rest of her life in jail, and she had a feeling that she didn’t deserve it either. Surely, it was his fault. It is always the man’s fault. She grabbed the towels, and some medical alcohol she found in her bag.

• Search the man.

Who was that man? Why was in a hotel room with her inside? Why was he dead in a pool of blood? Most likely she had killed him. The blood that covered half of her face and her body indicated that. And that led to another question. Why had she killed him? She was standing over him, careful not to touch anything unnecessary even though she wore gloves, careful that none of her hair fall on him.

The man was on his late forties, a bit heavy around the waste and with a lot of grey hair. His face was beautiful, with blue-grey eyes, thin lips and wrinkles. His facial features were distorted with an expression of pain, shock and anger. She thought the feelings were logical. She would feel exactly the same thing if she had a knife sticking out from her chest.

AN: I decided to try to write a story that focuses more on criminal acts. First time (except that Dexter fanfiction long ago). As I had to travel the previous weekend did not have time to finish it. Next part on Wed! 🙂