Dirty Pretty Things

Entering the bedroom, the first thing I smelt was the stench of stale sweat, alcohol and cigarette smoke. Trying to ignore the foul stink, I tried to tidy up the room up a little bit before making my way into the bathroom. I couldn’t believe how messy one woman could be.Walking into the bathroom, the first thing I saw was the over-flowing toilet and water covering the floor. I couldn’t help feeling frustrated as I took off my jacket and went back to the smelly bedroom and reached for a coat hanger. I knelt down and reached into the loo and began poking about, hoping to shift whatever it was down there. I’m used to dealing with blockages, it’s usually woman flushing nappies or things that they shouldn’t down there, but this was one big blockage. I gave it one last prod – if that didn’t move it then I was going to give up and use a plunger and just push it down. As I stood up, my eyes were drawn to what was beginning to form in the pan…Blood was starting to swirl up from the bottom. I knelt back down and poked it again, and crimson bubbles began to come up to the surface. I felt so sick – what was that down there?!? I put down the coat hanger and reached into the bin beside me. I tipped the rubbish out onto the floor and wrapped the bag around my hand. I reached gingerly into the bloodied toilet and felt around for the blockage. What I got hold of was slippery and it felt oddly like meat – but why would anybody attempt to flush meat down a toilet? The woman I met in the foyer didn’t seem like she’d be silly enough to do a thing like that! I started to get bad vibes from this – things just didn’t seem right.At last, I finally manage to seize hold of the object. I pulled hard at it and at last it came free. As I slowly raised the object to my sight, a wave of horror travelled through me. I felt sick and shaky, because the thing that I was holding in my hand was a human heart. Or was it? Could I be mistaken? No, I couldn’t be – I’d seen enough of these things in my training – I’m a doctor back home for god’s sake! It was a perfectly real human heart. My blood was thumping hard in the back of my head, and all that was running through my mind was ‘Is this a joke?’ ‘Who’s been murdered?’ ‘What am I going to do now…?’I carefully eased the gruesome heart into the plastic bag that I’d retrieved it with and made my way casually down the stairs as if it was a bag of rubbish I was carrying – not an organ that used to belong to somebody.I went over to the desk by reception and pulled open the drawer containing emergency numbers. I found the one I was looking for – the police. I pondered the problem for a bit, weighing up the reasons for and against calling.I had to tell somebody – it’s too serious to keep secret. There were hundreds of questions running through my mind, like ‘Who’s the murderer?’ Where’s the rest of the body?’ ‘Was the woman I met in the foyer the killer?’ That’s why I had to tell, the murderer could kill again. On the other hand, it could be a reason not to tell – what If the killer got wind of me telling and I got killed? It could be my heart down a toilet, and to be honest I really don’t fancy that. Also, if the police found out that I was an illegal immigrant, they’d send me back home, and I’d defiantly get killed then….I slam the drawer shut with a bang. Sighing, I pick up the soggy bag and make my way back up the stairs to try and figure out what to do next…

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