Part 2
The next day Paul painfully lifted himself from the bed and slowly made his way to the bathroom of his beach side apartment. Every part of his body was thumping with pain and in his mind, he assumed that he must have slept wrong. His aching mouth opened widely as to allow the escape of a small gust of air in the form of a yawn and he studied himself in the mirror.
There was a trail of dried blood that had marked his face the night before but his memory avoided his ability to remember exactly how he came by it. In fact, he had no recollection of any event that occurred before he fell into his deep, undisturbable slumber. He figured that he must have been greatly intoxicated and managed to fall over a number of times during his battle to return to his place of residence. His thoughts were broken by the loud, head pounding ring of his telephone and he slowly made his way back in to his bedroom and located the receiver with minimal co-ordination.
Hi voice crackled quietly as he greeted the unidentified person on the other end.
"Paul. Paul it's Tim." The voice said loudly, or so it seemed to Paul's sensitive ears. He responded with a low grunt that was initially going to be a 'what's up' but his attempt to structure 2 words failed miserably.
"Paul, I got a call this morning from Khym. Apparently she tried calling you but you didn't answer the phone."
Again Paul attempted to respond with a little more articulation and managed a grunt that resembled a 'yeah?'
"Richard was found murdered last night" Tim explained with no tact, no pause or indication that something horrible was about to be said. Paul stood, motionless, mouth open as if he was waiting for the words to fly out of his mouth of their own accord. He could hear his name being called over the receiver but his ears were not sending the message to his brain, they were just being discarded until finally one call of his name made it through the mental block in which Paul had unconsciously set up.
Paul attempted to respond and let Tim know that he was still there but his mouth just opened and closed a few times like a fish trying to inhale oxygen when its out of water.
Finally he managed to break his own silence with the only word he could get out. 'fuck'.
Tim questioned Paul as to his state of being until he decided that Paul was not going to be able to respond due to the shock of what had happened. He explained what was happening and gave Paul the address of the hotel he was going to be staying at. A few more comforting words and the phone went dead. Paul stood there, frozen to the spot for several minutes before he acknowledged the fact that Tim had gone and slowly cradled the receiver.
Slowly Paul turned around and moved towards his bedroom. Closing the door behind him he walked over to the wardrobe, opened the door and stared at the contents. He closed the door and moved to his bed where he sat, laid back and curled up into a fetal position. Tears began to streak his face as he cried himself to sleep.
part 3