Ho+el

0.1

"No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to Heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet, death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it, and that is as it should be, because death is very likely the single best invention of life, it is life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new." - Steve Jobs

Nora

I can remember the day I died.

I remember the smell of rain in the air, the way that the air glistened with a sense of foreboding, my stomach was consistently churning telling me that something was wrong, but I didn't listen-- I couldn't listen.

I was in the back of Vee's car, listening to the low hum of the engine, trying not to imagine the tires slicking with rain along the asphalt of the road, the idea of hydroplaning made me nauseous and I wasn't exactly sure why.

Let me start off by saying, I was never a bad person by any means, I had never done anyone wrong, or killed helpless little animals, no, I did what I had to so that I could survive. My mother was diagnosed with cancer on my sixteenth birthday, and my father immediately took leave after that, heading out with little less than a note that said: "Please forgive me, Nora."

Within the course of a year, my mother's health deteriorated quickly, what was once a vibrant woman who I got my looks from became a mere shell, a pity cause that everyone felt bad for but no one actually wanted to help.

Medical bills stack up, trust me.

Within a year's time, we were looking at more debt than you could shake a stick at, my college fund had been eaten away within months, all of my mother's savings a few weeks later, we were lucky to be living on Ramen Noodles and clean filtered water, and most of that was what I could scrounge from a paycheck working at Moe's Diner down the road, if it wasn't for handsy truck drivers, I would go hungry every night, at least they tip well.

Then, I found her. I found Vee.

Vee ran a small gang of sorts, though she had always told me they didn't like to be identified as a gang.

"I can help you out, little bird," she promised, her eyes looking slightly wild, "A face like yours would be more than welcome among us."

So here I was, in the back of her car, clad in what felt like an all-black leotard, pulling a white mask over my face, obscuring everything except for my eyes, this was how I'd lived my life for the past year: behind a mask, a mask of debt, a mask of wanting to forget, but today everything changed.

"So, tell me again, what's the plan?" I asked, leaning up in my seat, quickly brushing stray strands of blond hair back into my hoodie that was attached to my leotard before pulling the hood up over my head.

"There's a small shipment coming in on the harbor, me and you are going to stop that shipment in its tracks, deliver it to a friend of mine, and get a pretty decent cash pay-out for it," she said, turning around to give me a smirk before her eyes quickly shot back to the road.

"I still get my promised thirty percent?" I asked, noticing that her spine stiffened slightly at my question, but I ignored it, I was here for one reason, and one reason only.

"Of course, Nora, you still get your pay-out."

"Good," I replied, turning my attention to back out the window, sure that my stomach was reacting to the car's wheels skidding along the rain-slicked highway and not my nerves that were more than ringing that something was very, very wrong.

We pulled up into what I can only call a slum, there were two street lights that almost crossed each other, but they did little to brighten the area that we had arrived in, everything had a dull neon like glow to it.

"Make sure you keep your mask on, you don't want any of these men remembering that pretty little face," Vee said as she opened the door of her car and stepped out.

I followed suit, pulling my mask up quickly, only leaving my eyes exposed as I kept close behind her.

"You have the stuff, Skippy?" Vee said, her voice had taken a much deeper tone now, almost menacing, it was extremely unlike the tone she used towards me which was motherly and caring.

"Depends on what stuff you're looking for, Vee," the man said, he stepped out of the shadows of the alley then, he had a black hat ontop of greasy looking hair, it was pulled low enough that only the underside of his eyes were visible, he was unshaved too, his face was gruffy, and he somewhat reminded me of Tom Hanks in Cast Away.

"You know exactly what I'm looking for, I want the package," Vee said, her voice had raised a few octaves, and I could tell that it didn't only frighten me, Cast Away cowered a little as well.

"It ain't here, Vee, it never was," he said, and suddenly there was a loud sound.

I could feel my hands coming up to my already ringing ears, my eyes were slower at accepting what was going on, what the hell was going on?

Vee fell slowly to her knees, her eyes were wide, her mouth open in a slack O, and her hands clutching a quickly darkening spot on her chest.

Slowly my mind formed together what happened: Vee had been shot by Cast Away.

"You were told not to come here!" He yelled, but the slightest glance at Vee quickly told me that it was falling on deaf ears, she was dying, and I was just standing there, I was frozen.

"And you," Cast Away said, turning the gun on me, "You've just seen too much."

And then he fired.