Project 43

I couldn’t sleep. I tried. I even went to open the case at one point thinking it would calm my mind. I knew it wouldn’t though. So I laid back down.

I know the combo.

“Remember Annie. Twenty three. Twenty three. Seven."

"Why can't it be a different number?" I always asked him this. Always. Until I got annoyed and made it clear I knew it.

Hormones probably.

Now I miss him...

I still don't know the significance of the number. Maybe it's a random code. Something I'll always remember. Maybe it's something in the case.

It's driving me nuts.

I know what I would typically find of course. Blood. Vials. Medicine. Vitamins. Things that I needed to take because I was already starting to feel the side effects of waiting to long.

My skin gets tender. My stomach is clenching like a cat trying to claw it's way free. There's this shooting pain behind my eyes that just radiates through my head.

It wasn't just for taking my blood or giving me medicine anymore though.

Now it had files.

Maybe it was in a sealed official envelope?

Trinity of course is no help and no sympathy.

We're at a stop while she's making a phone call in the middle of nowhere where there's a bathroom that stinks and is plastic.

Kidding I know what the hell a porta potty is.

Gotcha?

If anyone's reading this?

Are you?