Share this storyWhat Have You Done?mature
5:06 a.m. - Bangor – Maine - USA
'Would you mind if I hurt you?'
Keith sat up in the darkness, breathing heavily. For a moment he was back in the airless Thai hotel room, the hot air pleasantly suffocating them as they lay in bed, her hand tracing soft, wide circles on his chest. The smell of sweet almonds intoxicated him, the darkness whispered around him, her voice filled his head and drove out everything else.
'Would you mind if I killed you?'
He fumbled for the beside table lamp and switched it on. The sudden brightness stung his eyes and he had to force them shut. As he rubbed his hands against his face, the smell of almonds was replaced by the musty, old air freshener smell of cheap motels and the whispers by the low humming of the mini fridge.
The bed creaked as he fell back on it heavily, one arm over his eyes. He should have finished his report, instead he had fallen asleep reading the file again. Not that he needed to. He had written most of it himself, he could recite it by heart. But he went back to it, night after night, because maybe he missed something. Because maybe he would finally understand what happened.
Sighing, he sat back up once again, reached for the old cardboard file wallet, pushed the scattered papers back inside and stared at the cover. How had this become his life? Two years carrying it around. Two years obsessing over every single word. Two years chasing a ghost. He was no closer to finding the answer now than he was back then. He had to let it go. He had to let her go.
Gripping the folder tight in his hand, he stood up quickly, his breath speeding up again. This was it. He was doing it, right now. He walked over to the waste bin and lingered there, eyes closed. He saw her face, a memory blurred by time. It brought with it a familiar stab of pain. Then, with a deep breath, he dropped the file into it.





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