Hitman
Walls closing in! Can't breathe!
"Help!" I shouted so loud my ears rang.
I gasped for much needed air. Getting up from the creaky bed I wiped the sweat beads from my face. I groaned from tiredness, "Stupid dream."
I walked across the dark room until I got to the bathroom and pushed the ajar door all the way till it hit the wall with a bang. I groaned again. I got to the sink and splash cool crystal liquid on my burning face. I could've sworn I saw steam come from my skin. But I dismissed it immidately. I scratched my back. Almost instantly seering pain shot up my back. I yelped. Wincing I lifted the back of my night shirt. I turned my back to the vanity, shirt still up. I grabbed the hand mirror. I sized it up to the mirror behind me. Stunned. Four deep gashes oozing dark red blood, as if someone had scratched me.
"What the h***?" I asked myself, still staring into the small mirror. I didn't want to know. I just wanted to sleep. So I let it slide, deal with it in the morning. I dabed the wounds with proixcide. Wincing with pain from the stingingness. Then walked back to the bed. Almost instantly falling asleep.
I awoke sometime later. Groggy, but better. I looked over at the clock. Eleven. I got up. I walked to the bathroom. The door was still open from that night. I turned the shower on. After letting it warm up, I stepped in. Pain. I looked down. Red water. An image of a screaming lady flew through my mind, like it was trying to tell me something. I didn't ignore this. I tried to push my mind to remember. Nothing. Just another wave of pain shot over me.
I turned the water off and grabbed a towel. Drying off I looked at the towel. Red.
"John." came a whisper, barely audible. "John." Then a woman's laughter.
And as fast as I could, which was even faster when I felt someone blow on my neck, I dressed.
Sprinting down the stairs I grabbed my jacket, then bursted through the door.
I slowed my pace when I noticed people were staring at me.
'What did I do before I went to bed?' I thought to myself.
I kept watching faces. Searching for the one, the one I saw in my memory.
I found her minutes later, but not in person. It was on the news in the local television store. She looked different. She was smiling, her brown hair was perfect, not a hair out of place. She was beautiful.
"I remember." I said aloud. Someone was standing next to me. They looked at me. their eyes burned into my skin, wondering. I gave them a look that could kill. Their face went red. They turned away.
I smirked. 'Still got it.' I thought to myself. 'Yes I remember. Last night, I got the call. A job. I took it immediately. I was hired by her soon to be ex-husband. Yes, very successful until she scratched my back. She almost got away too. She was a fighter. But I always get the target. Won't stop till I do. That's why they call me. That's why they call the Hitman.'
Yes it's finally done! Comment please!
