PART 19 - INTO IT

 In a great attempt to squeezing my lungs in, my panting began to release air like a kettle without the whistling. I attempted to be as discrete as possible as I continued to hear the chatter go on, as plastering myself on the wall like a swatted housefly. "What do you mean you are being followed?" I heard someone ask. My eyes lit up in suspicion, wondering if they had already known, that I was slowly following them. Each centimetre, that I scrolled my feet across the floor, the decibel, of chatters increased in the surrounding of my eardrum. The dripping sweat, itched my eyes, when it came down through, the hairs of my forehead, down towards the eyelashes. the itching irritated me to almost blow my cover. I quickly reached out in my pocket and removed my voice recording device to get the whole conversation that I only seemed to get a few murmurs and phrases about. I stood in the corridor covered in the odour of sweat and musty carpets that were as dusty as an archeological artefact, as I waited to get my voice recorder of the wall. "C'mon lets get out of here" Someone uttered as I slid my temple across the wall, wiping the dripping sweat, to place my eyes in the flashing light that seemed to beam through the corridor. The shadows of the people inside, covered the floor till the corridor and I could see them moving. Talking seemed to intensify as they proceeded to try and make their way to where they were going.

The tussling continued and grew more aggressive. I grew a bit concerned that it may burst and I heard metal clanging away from a wooden drawer. "John, just called me... I... It...." The guard, seemed to be move around as the chatter kept on going, as though he was escaping danger. I removed the papers that were in my pocket to know if anything matched what I was hearing. My fingers fumbled and intertwined as I tried to piece them together, at the same time, trying to keep myself as calm as possible not to be heard. The paper, dampened in my sweaty palms, as I suddenly began to hear their footsteps approaching me. I quickly tried to unplug my voice recording device from the wall, that seemed to be showing off with its ability to stick to surfaces, against my skinny muscles. The steps grew louder and louder, the more I tried to unplug my device. I removed my jacket and covered the voice recorder, as I went back in the corridor as I looked for a place to hide.

"Do you hear that?" I heard one of the people ask. I crawled into the small space that I found, and tuck in, every part of my body, as I tried to hold all the sneezes and coughs that screamed for the freedom through my airways. They quickly went into a search, as they looked up and all over for what they seemed to be hearing. The steps, moved faster and faster around the corridor, filled with a certain sense of worry. My breathing clasped me by throat, and was punching its way to be free. I could slowly feel my airways getting strained and soon need open up. A few puffs of dust later from the musty carpet, the footsteps seemed to disappear into the distance. All the dust could be blown from the corridor and cause a few whirlwinds from my huge exhale after the corridor cleared. I was down, on, one knee, coughing, sneezing and gasping for air. Few minutes later, I walked towards the wall to retrieve my jacket and voice recorder. In the moment of trying to get them, the door towards the room the guards were in squeaked open slowly. Grasped, by the sight, I stepped in.