I don’t know what time I got in from Dante’s, but it seems I managed to get the supplies from the shop. The first thing I saw, was a yellowy, polystyrene container with bits of meat hanging out of it. Along side it was an open bag of cheese balls, that had spilt and cascaded on to the floor. I’d fallen asleep in an upright position, on a dining room chair. I wiped the dribble from my mouth and surveyed the rest of the table. At least I’d eaten. It seems to have been, some sort of kebab. Cheeseballs, ashtray with half-smoked joint, 3 empty Grolsch bottles and the small mirror with one of the 8-balls, opened, and started. By the looks of it, I hadn’t got very far.
I lit a cigarette. The light coming in between the curtains looked pure. It was definitely morning.
“Echo. Play BBC Radio6!”
“Playing BBC Radio6”, she replied.
“wait….Echo. what’s the time?”
“The time is seven sixteen a.m.”, she said.
I felt awake. I mean, really awake. Mentally aware and clear thinking. I started to feel a little paranoid. The clarity was scaring me.
“Echo! Play BBC radio6.”
“tired of lying in the sunshine,
Staying home to watch the rain…….”
The lyrics resonated through my whole body.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”, I thought. I’m having an episode. I’m definitely having an episode. I pushed the kebab remains to the floor, along with the ashtray, and grabbed the mirror. I quickly, roughly cut a ridiculous line and snorted it hard……then another. The second one hit the back of my eyeball and made it water. My mind was racing.
After fifteen minutes or so, of repeating this procedure, only one thought remained in my brain.
I NEED TO ESCAPE.
That was a lie. It wasn’t the only thought. There were a million. A million insane, paranoid, poisoned and unrealistic thoughts. But that was the one I chose to fixate on.
I think it had been 2 days since the escape revelation. I wasn’t quite sure. The only thing I was sure of was, I had booked a holiday. I had some vague recollection of excitement, planning and endless cocaine. I had definitely slept. I was in bed. Completely naked. Staring at the ceiling and listening to Mrs. Kline vacuum and sing.
I was waiting for her to leave, but realized I would have to talk to her. Tell her my plans. Pay her. I glanced around the floor for clothes. They were neatly stacked on the chair. I rolled over and looked for my cigarettes on the bedside table. The table was clean. Empty ashtray. Cigarettes and lighter within reach. Mrs. Kline had cleaned my room whilst I was slept. I love her sometimes.
I smoked a cigarette and got dressed. I was trying to remember dates, location, etc but all I could remember was something about a train.
“Mrs. Kline. I’m planning on going for a bit of a holiday”, I said as I left the bedroom. She didn’t hear me. She still had the vacuum running. I went and sat down at, now polished, dining room table and opened my laptop.
The last three emails I had received said, “BOOKING CONFIRMATION”. I clicked on the first.