Corridor

Most people have never been asked for a witness case in a murder, but that's exactly what I was asked to give.

I was staying in this hotel one time, and of all the times for a murder to occur, it was when me and my family were staying. But anyway, the police found the guy- it was a brutal death, we was strangled by hands which grasped so tight the flesh of his neck ripped on the sides- but could find no evidence for the killer. So, of course, they step forward and ask if anyone in the hotel saw any shady characters about around the time of death. They gave us the hotel room it happened outside and floor and basically made a statement to all those who'd been in the hotel at the time.

I would have never thought I might have something, but casting my mind back to the night, I realised I had seen something strange. As I'd walked down to dinner, there'd been one of the doors left open- maybe an old guest room, but it had no number and was usually closed anyhow-and, curious in personality as I was and thinking nothing of it, I peered in around the corner of the door and stopped as I went by.

All I saw was this: a fairly short corridor, which seemed to connect to a identical, parallel corridor to the one I was in now. There was a girl hanging around the other corridor, maybe my age, looking my way, just another guest. And one man came storming down the corridor joining these two. He looked angry, and walked heavily. He was dressed in dirty white cotton trousers and shirt, and his long dark hair hung limp and greasy over two sharp eyes. There was a grimace on his face and he walked past, past me, then was gone around the corner.

I know it sounds stereotypical, but guests at this hotel weren't like that- he looked too...dirty, really...to be hanging about this place, especially in the evening. And his anger and something else made me get this awful vibe from him as he walked past.

Back to the enquiry, I decided to report it. Just because it seemed out of place, especially when the murder had occured maybe minutes after I saw this man. The police had had no other leads at all apparently, so reluctantly two men who were keeping watch on the hotel (since it had happened so recently) asked if I could show them where I saw the man.

It must've seemed silly and insubstantial evidence, but it was all they had, so they followed me up to the 3rd floor where I'd saw it happen. The door was locked, so we had to ask some foreign staff for the keys, who looked at us questionally for wanting the keys to this particular door but couldn't explain why because of the language barrier.

And then, finally, after the gruelling embarrassment and gnawing doubt I'd been feeling at bothering to report anything at all, the door was opened.

At first glance, I saw the same. I actually thought I saw the girl from the night before...

But two police were with her this time.

I walked up the corridor and realised that it was not a corridor at all- but a disused room with a mirror as you came in through the door.

The police snorted derisivley, and walked off, dismissing my evidence.

But I know that's where the killer came from.

The other side of the glass.