The story so far:
I stumbled up to 302 and stuck the key in the door, the door was stuck and I had to push hard on it to get it open. Once in the room, I fumbled around for a lamp or light switch. ****, I knocked my shin on the night stand. I got the lamp on and looked around. There was a full size bed with a stained paisley bedspread. A nightstand with a Gideon bible in the draw. Bright orange shag carpet that was worn down to the stitching in several places. A TV on a rickety little stand. I didn't want to do anything really but get this blood off me. The bathroom was hideous. Only god knows when it was cleaned last.
I stripped and hopped into the shower. "Of course, no **** hot water." What did I expect. I scrubbed myself with that tiny little bar of soap hotels leave you to wash your hands with. It was the only thing I could find. I rubbed my skin raw trying to get the blood off. My mind was a blur. I was trying to understand what was going on. Who am I? How does one forget who they are and what their name is? Did this happen before I murdered that man? Why did I kill him? Was it in self defense? I don't think it was.
I got out of the shower and toweled off. On the bed was a pair of blue jeans, underwear, and a black cotton t-shirt. There was also a new pair of sneakers with some socks stuffed in them. They all fit perfectly. I sat on the bed after I dressed and wondered what I would do next.
I wondered about that woman. Who was she? She obviously knew what I had done. Maybe I did it for her. I wasn't sure but I don't think I would do that. She didn't seem like my type.
I stood up and went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. Maybe I could recognize myself. I looked at the lines around my eyes and the scar on my chin trying to remember how I got it. How old am I? My sandy blond hair had a lot of gray scatterd through out it. I figured I am probably in my late thirties. I rubbed my cheek and wished I had a razor to shave the stubble off my face.
The phone rang at that moment and I practically ran over myself to answer it. "Hello?"
There was a static and then I heard the same assertive voice from earlier. "What are you doing?" I've been waiting for you? Get your **** out here right now." And then a dial tone.
I looked around the room and then went to the window. Sure enough there was that pretty little candy apple red Porsche. I grabbed the key from the nightstand and opened the door to go out.