Orderly Chaos

Chapter 3 — Dying Hope

Hope

“400 dollars,” the woman grunted at me. “400 DOLLARS? Are you serious right now?” I exclaimed. “Sounds like you want it pretty bad, and you’re also a bitch,” she peered over her thick glasses “I don’t like bitches, so I don’t like you. 400 dollars, or you can get the hell off my property and out of my life.” Begrudgingly, I handed over the cash and she happily threw the package at me. I thanked her and quickly left the dank, raunchy-smelling decrepit house.

I climbed into my car and drove down the street, parking in a spot where there was no one else around. I opened the package and pulled out its contents. A uniform, surprisingly in very good condition. There was a breast pocket above which it had an embroidered patch that said “Jasper’s”. I finally had it, the manager’s uniform. It looked just like the lesser-employees’ uniforms, except a bit nicer. I quickly drove back home and jumped in the shower, I had a manager’s shift at Jasper’s tonight.

As I was doing my hair and spraying down the uniform with every perfume I had (it LOOKED nice, but smelled of God-knows-what mixed with mothballs and trash), the pillow my mother gave me before she passed away caught my eye. “Hope Never Dies”. It was pretty — lacy with red embroidering and large black letters. It was the one thing that I kept throughout my life, no matter what. Everything else in my house I could lose, and I would be fine, but I always had to have the only memory of my mother with me.

The clock read 7:52pm, as I scrambled to gather my belongings. I made sure I looked the part, and behind my apron in its slot on my belt, I slipped the golden dagger. “I hope I don’t have to use this tonight,” I said to myself as I ran to my car. It was a 7 minute drive to the shopping mall. I quickly ran inside, ran downstairs to the basement level and burst into Jasper’s. It was just as sleazy as always. “Why on Earth would ANYONE work here? The money must be REALLY good.” As I walked in, I looked over at the bar… there they were. The subject. They had a look of horror on their face as they looked around the messy bar. I quickly ran through the lounge, to the back of the restaurant. The employees looked at me bewilderedly. “Oh, dammit. I really have to play this part, don’t I?”

“Hi, are you the new manager?” a girl with brown hair tied up into a bun asked me. “Yes! My name is Hope! Nice to meet you! Let me just get settled in real quick, ok?”

“Ok,” the girl responded “My name is Melanie, nice to meet you. We have an issue with table 247, I need you to — “ I cut her off “Just give them whatever they want while I get settled in, ok?” She looked at me as if I had just kicked a pregnant woman. “Ummmm… ok?” She sauntered off back toward the lounge. I used the key that had been stolen for me to enter the office. I looked at the cameras… “SHIT!” It had already started. There was nothing but black static on the screen and I could barely hear what was going on. One of them was here. I didn’t think this would happen on my “first day” but when duty calls, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. I tried listening closely to the live feed “Old Fashioned”. The subject sounded very confused. This is what I was trained for.

I quickly ran to the 2nd bar in the restaurant, scaring the pants off of the poor bartender. “Hey what the f — ,” he stopped when he saw my uniform. “Sorry ma’am! You must be the new manager!” I started throwing some random liquors into a glass “Yes! Yes, I am! Sorry, we have a disgruntled customer at the front who needs help immediately, we can talk later!” I threw some grenadine and cherries into the glass to make sure it caused a ruckus and made my way up to the front bar as fast as I could.

There he was, and there was the subject. I couldn’t believe they would act so promptly, but those people can’t help but act on information as soon as they get it. It’s a part of being one of them, I guess, lack of restraint. I ran up and basically threw the glass down on the bar and gave it a good smack. “Old Fashioned!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. They both looked over at me, the subject with grateful eyes and the large burly man with eyes of disgust, hate and anger. The glass slid down the bar, and the liquid went flying everywhere. The large man had his hand in his jacket, and I saw a red glimmer in the light as he turned toward me. A Deal. He had a Deal. This was definitely one of them, I wondered which one it could possibly be.

The burly man looked at me as if he was going to kill me, and the subject took this opportunity to run to the bathroom. “Thank God!” I thought to myself, as soon as they were out of sight, I grabbed the dagger from my belt and plunged it into the man’s arm as hard as I could repeatedly. The man screamed in pain as the world around us dissolved. When everything reappeared, we were outside, in a townhouse complex. “You f#$%^@$ BITCH! I WAS SO CLOSE! I’m going to make you wish that you were never born.” he yelled at me. “Your kind isn’t meant to be here!” I yelled back. “I’m goi-” before I could let another word out, he disemboweled me with the machete in his hand and snapped my right leg with one swift kick.

I cannot tell you what else he did to my body without causing nightmares, just know it was gruesome and bloody. Breaking every body part possible and basically turning me into a pile of broken bones and mush. “Bye, bitch,” he muttered as he scooped the remaining pieces of me up. The last thing I saw was the moon, it was pretty. “Hope Never Dies” the image of my beloved pillow flashed in my head. The lid of the dumpster slammed down above me. I listened to the crickets chirp as I waited until sunrise.

— — — — —

This story came to me one day while I took a nap. The dream barely made sense to me while it was happening, but everything I saw and felt is described above. I began writing it out in 2020, on Facebook, as status updates. Then I realized that I should probably do the story some justice and put it out there for whoever might possibly see it to see, and not confine it to my Facebook friends list. It’s a series, and I can vividly imagine the characters and the setting in my head. I’ve decided to start publishing the parts of the story I have so far on here. I don’t know if anyone will read it, but at least I can say I put it out there. Hope never dies.

Here is Chapter 2. Here is Chapter 4.

©2021, Omar Imam. All rights reserved.