.Accidents happen.
A Hitokai Tale.
Part 1

In tall heels, Kimberly sits at Lou's bar. She sits quietly on a worn down barstool that creeks when it's spun. It smells like something's been rotting for days, except no one's found the source.

She's been drinking heavily tonight, unable to recall how many, but it was quite enough.
Though being able to stand on her own, she leaves the bartender a generous tip while paying for the Jack and Cokes which go down like water.

She takes her purse that's been sitting at her feet for an hour or two and will lift it over her shoulder in such a way that she's caught off guard and takes a small stumble for the wall, and she catches her shoulder, cursing under her whisky breath.
Licking her lips and straightening up, the cold night air quickly gives her a sober feeling. She didn’t drive tonight, she didn’t take anyone home. She didn’t talk to anyone, and the bartender hardly even noticed she was there, only the occasional inquiring question about how her drink was doing and if she needed more.

And Kimberly liked that.

‘Tomorrow’Kimberly thought. tomorrow I’m going to call Tara and get a visit with Nicole.' The thought made her smile; she wanted to love that little kid, and she wanted for her to never know what it feels like to be unhappy.

It was then that Kimberly rounded the corner, something she’d regret in later days to come. Some moment in time that if she could take it back, she would.

She rounded the alley which she’s taken so many times; stumbling home in the dark with only the faint glow of cigarette illuminating the darkness around her enough to not step in any potholes along the way. And only then did she hear the smallest of calls from the shadows behind her.

“Excuse me, miss” the voice said “You dropped this!”
The would be good Samaritans voice kicked her out of the mindless staggers and she’d swallow hard. No one ever stops someone to give something back, not in Hathian anyhow.

“Oh, did I?” she yelled behind her shoulder, eyes keeping ahead of her, for the most part, her lips and head just barely pivoting. “You keep it”
Kimberly cursed again under her breath when she heard a second set of feet trailing after the first. And it was as though the drunk left her completely. But it hadn’t she had just become more aware.

The impending doom that creeps up on her back slowly, but it moves with precision, calculated and exact.

“You sure, it’s twenty bucks. And in today’s rough times, every penny counts!” he called out again, his feet didn’t stop, Kimberly’s feet didn’t stop. And the new one that was just behind him; well those ones got just a little bit faster.

“fuck, fuck,fuck” Kimberly whispered again.
Fear strikes to her heart and she wants to turn down the other corner, maybe to lose them in the black. Lose them in the cold, dark shadows that oculd be so unforgiving.
Tossing her cigarette aside, she keeps going straight forward picking up the pace “No, really, you keep it.”

Kimber takes the second corner but has little time to hide. There was no hiding from these two people with so much on their minds as to follow and stalk her in the back alley. She rounds the corner and they follow too.
The man untucks his shirt, where a loaded gun sits placed inside of his pants. The second is a woman, no taller than Kimberly. She cannot see them, but there they are. Dark hair and dark clothes. Hurried feet and rapid heartbeats.

The woman picks up into a jog. She follows Kimberly so fast, that in heels, Kimberly cannot escape. The alley had been long and dark but she can see salvation on the other side. Salvation where people wait, people and lights and cars. All passing by

And then it hits her.
It hits her like a brass coated knuckle.
Hard in the back of the shoulder, and she is winged.
It sends her flying forward with arms flailed, legs almost up in the air. Had it not been for the green slime underneath her feet she may have stayed up.

Her right heel snapped in half, sending her flying toward a green dumpster that sits in all it’s stenchfilled glory. It doesn’t even budge when Kimberly flys face first into it.

The next thing she can remember is weight. Weight on her back, the weight of a man.

His voice echo’s in her ears and rings off the side of her head “You should have let us help you.” He bends over and with the handle of his gun, knocks Kimberly unconscious.