Welcome to Hazeville

Sugar, Spice, and I've Almost Died Twice

'In the end, we'll all become stories.'

Mal sighed as she walked into the gas station, slowly turning the corner and going behind the counter to open the store up for another day. She knew she would be there all day and most of the night, and she hated it. She hated trying to force herself to think that everything was going to be okay and that everything was fine the way it was. She hated telling herself that all she had to do was work her ass off and fake a smile, and eventually, all the work she was putting in would come back around and help to give her a decent, happy life. She was the type of girl to believe that what comes around goes around. The one that hopes for a better day. The one that would never give up on anything. She's the girl that's unlike the rest. The one that spent her days smiling and her nights crying. She's the girl that would love to be loved. The one that looks so damn strong but feels so weak. She's the girl that picks herself up every damn time she falls. She had to. Who else would take care of her sister? Their psychotic mother? The woman who threw her kids away for a chance with a low-life druggie? Their father? The man who ditched both of them when they were children? No, there was no one left but her. She had to do it. 

Hours went by as people came in to get what they needed in the morning. The same people. The same time. Every morning. Mal could tell by what day it was what cigarettes she would have to get out and who was going to complain that this was the only gas station they had ever been to where they did not have a hot box with food in it. She could tell by which customer she was on just how many minutes it would be until her sister would walk in to get a 44 oz mountain dew before school. As she was checking out a customer, she heard the door open and could hear her sister talking to someone. That was unusual. Florence comes in every day, never saying a word, alone, with her head down. She makes sure it's a quick in and out procedure. 

"But, yeah," Florence smiled, "this is the only gas station in a 30-mile radius. Well, one that is actually a convenience store one, they have gas pumps over by the big gravel mound, but you have to have a special card to be able to use them."

"Oh really?" A familiar voice chuckled.

"Yeah!" Florence laughed, "Oh, and this is my sister Mallorie, but I just call her Mal. Mainly because it makes me think of Captain Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly. Have you seen Firefly? It's such a great show! It only ran for one season before Fox cut it, but it's so good! Fox is just a bunch of cun-"

"Flo," Mal half laughed, "give the man a minute. He doesn't need you talking his ear off first thing in the morning."

"It's fine, really," the man smiled.

Mal looked up at the man, and her jaw dropped as her eyes met his. 

"Mal, Brantley," Flo smirked, "Brantley, Mal. Now that you two have been introduced... Mal I'm getting a Dew and getting the fuck out of here. If I'm late to Parson's class one more time I'm getting written up."

"Be good at school," Mal sighed.

"No," Flo smirked as she filled up her cup, "I will be a pure menace to society."

Brantley chuckled as he walked up to the counter, and Flo ran out the back door.

"So," he smiled, "she's your sister, right?"

"Yeah," Mal chuckled, "she usually doesn't talk that much. I'm sorry for whatever she may have just spouted off."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I just got the entirety of the towns drama and what motels are safe, which houses are for sale, which vehicles to avoid for various reasons, oh and that Ms. Parson is a, what did she say? Oh, a twat waffle," Brantley laughed.