From a very-intense-kind-of-dream/nightmare I had last night.
‘This actually might kill her’ I thought to myself, as I tried to tell if she just exhaled or my own head had gone. I mean, maybe I’m just high myself, maybe this is simply a downside of an expensive hobby that could either ruin, or end, one’s life. If she weren’t able to handle it, I would have known right away, yeah? Like in Pulp Fiction where Mia immediately knew she had done something wrong…or can it work in other ways, could those 2 matchstick lines have, at first, shocked her small frame, and at-this-very-fucking moment her body could be trying to battle the chemical, but how long will it take before I know. And fuck, Fuck, FUCK, I need to have a plan if she o.d.’s, take her to the hospital and get the fuck out of there, ok, yeah, hospitals right down the road and I can run my ass out of there once she’s with a doctor, so…ok. But what happens if she…don’t say it-don’t say it-don’t say it, but ok, its better to have a plan and not need it right. Should THAT happen, what the fuck am I supposed to do, it’s China, and while they don’t make the news as much as Malaysia for drug penalties, I can’t see them going lightly on a 31-year old responsible for inadvertently killing one of their own, so okay…fuck. It has to go like this, she isn’t that tall, so I could, in theory, put her in that secret couch compartment…grab my passport and cash and take the next flight to Bangkok, Tokyo…anywhere. Once I’m there, I could call Scott and let him know what happened, no – wait, that would make him an accomplice. If I call the police from Thailand and tell them exactly what happened, will I be wanted in every country or just China? FUCK, this isn’t supposed to happen, not here, not in Shanghai, I’m white for godssakes, this is supposed to be my sanctuary, but now I have to leave everything and go to fucking Bangkok with the rest of the killers and perverts – shit, what the hell am I supposed to do with her phone, put it in her bag with her and put it on silent? I mean, if I was caught with her phone, that makes it a little harder to believe that this whole thing was a horrible accident and of course I didn’t know she couldn’t handle it – ok, yeah, no, leave it with her. Wait! Not in the secret couch compartment, that DOES make me look like I’m hiding something, ok, I can put her in the shower, yeah, and then claim she was staying here and I was out somewhere else and she did it to herself, oh yes yes yes. I can’t believe I was about to put her into my fucking couch like some suburban killer in a tv series – yeah, shower, good. Oh, thank god, she’s breathing some more (I even did the finger under the nose for moisture when she exhaled and it worked), ok, squeeze her hand to make sure she’s okay, oh! She squeezed back! Never , never again…ever.
Until Friday, of course.
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