Hayden Zero – Life after Harvey

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HaydZero Resident

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It was hard to say if it was night or day when she finally made it into Hathian.  She wasn't sure exactly why she was released three years before her number was up, but the phone call that came during the hubub and confusing time was enough to shatter all perceptions.

Working on an 8 year stint in Harvey Federal, grand theft auto to name a few causes to put her there, institutions weren't all that new for the woman.  She had been in and out of Juvie until she hit 18, then a few months later... The big house.  5 years behind bars in the roughest possible prison in existence.

That phone call, the one from her Uncle that most likely had pulled some strings somewhere, letting her know that her father is thought to be dead.  On a job somewhere in the southwest, no one had heard from Roan in a few months.  She had instructions to meet up with her cousin in Hathian to find out what she could.

Growing up in the Zero family was interesting enough, but she had developed skills capable of saving her ass more than once.  She was far from a blushing beauty, always preferring to get her hands dirty, but at the same time, know her place.

Yet, scraps of paper, random numbers written upon them, tucked down into her wallet, faded and smeared.  Passwords.

At the bus station just outside of town on some stretch of lonely road leading towards the big city, there were rentable lockers.  Usually used for clandestine purposes, she used it to keep her valuables, since she had no where else to store them.  One of these valuables.. A journal.

 

Hathian hasn't changed much since I was here last.  A few things, new shops, but it's all the same facade over a dirty little town that's never really recovered after the battery of hurricanes that keep sweeping the area.  It's harsh, unforgiving, but loaded with opportunity.

I started a job at the auto shop, but really, they don't seem to work on the cycles much and I haven't found something specializing there yet.  You know me, always the grease monkey.

Last night, I came across a freshly skinned body in the graveyard.  Sure, I called it in and got the fuck out of there since I didn't want to deal with the pigs in this town.  They never change.  Always the same fucking assholes.  But I did take the heart, I took it and went to the spice shop to get the brick dust and chicken feet, and gave my offering, with a good cigar mind you, to Papa Legba. 

Papa.  He's been my rock in this world.  He offers, I accept, pay the price, and get rewarded.  Ongoing payment for that one wish I always had since I was a little girl.  Confidence.  Yet with it, is a little bit of cuntishness, as I was always told by my cell mate in Harvey.

I drew the veve to summon the loa, as I must every All Saints Day, and I was blessed.  Yet I'm unsure if I should ask Papa to bring back my Daddy from the dead, for I fear he is lost to us all.

November 2, 2018 at 7:57 am
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