03/01/****

5:30 AM
The alarm doesn’t blare much longer than it needs to before the woman with burgundy hair rises from her bed like a mummy. With the same motion she does every morning, she sits up, stares at the wall, rubs her eyes and, finally, turns off her 5:30 AM alarm. She walks into her bathroom, turns the shower on, and brushes her teeth with toothpaste not containing fluoride. As she cleans herself off with the unreasonably hot water, she wonders how her 6:45 AM shooting class will go. 

6:45 AM
“Remember everyone, you need to make sure your gun is parallel to your shoulders. To succeed in shooting your target, you must align your body with what you are trying to take out,” the fit and rough woman tells her class of elderly white men.

Drinking water after the class ends, she looks at her phone and is reminded of her lunch with her sister and children. A small smile creeps across her face as she imagines the little tykes giggling while she does her classic walrus with chopsticks bit. A joke most adults and teenagers are tired of seeing, but these 3 and 5-year-olds can’t get enough of it. 

12:30 PM
Walking into one of the many diners in this town, the pale-skinned woman with scars across her arms notices her sister and her children. She quickly waves at them with a jubilated smile, notifying other diners how happy she is to be around such youthful energy. Over the next hour, she eats her usual—steak and eggs with a side of crispy potatoes—plays with the kids, pays for her portion, and leaves to go home. But, as is tradition, she clasps the kids’ faces lovingly and gently before going home to her single dog.

7:30 PM 
The pitter-patter of dog feet running to her, with harness and leash in its mouth, the rigid woman gets off her couch and excitedly talks in a high-pitched wavelength, asking if she is ready to “go on a walkie?” Grabbing the dog’s harness, strapping her in, and connecting the leash, she is out the door for their nightly stroll. They saunter around the neighborhood and take a break at the park to give the aged puppy some much-needed zoomy relief. After thirty minutes pass, The Woman and her dog head home. 

10:30 PM
Like clockwork, The Woman’s natural melatonin production starts up. However, despite traversing across the germ-infested city, she doesn’t shower before jumping into bed. She only changes the clothes she wore into her day-specific pajamas and pulls the blankets and comforter over her entire body. Being a master of the 4-7-8 breathing routine, she instantly falls asleep.

03/05/****

5:30 AM 
The 5:30 AM alarm goes off as it did the day before and the day before that. She quickly cleans herself off and heads to the gun range to teach her 6:45 AM class. She focuses this lesson on hitting a moving object, which they will probably never have to use. But, she’s committed to “showpony” skills. 

6:45 AM
“Remember everyone, you need to make sure your gun is parallel to your shoulders. To succeed in shooting your target, you must align your body with what you are trying to take out,” the 5’7 woman tells her class of geriatric, sun-burnt men.

11:00 AM
Despite not truly caring about her fashion sense, she still understands the need for new and fresh clothing. She doesn’t want to be known as the gun fan who only wears raggedy garments she first purchased in high school. So, while at [POPULAR MAINSTREAM CLOTHING STORE], the callous woman browses the available options. But, while combing through the racks, she notices something off in the shelves 25 feet from her. It’s a small, fluffy pig with bright pink pastels covering it. Despite being out of place, she can’t register why it’s standing out to her. 

But, as she moves to another spot within [POPULAR MAINSTREAM CLOTHING STORE], the pink pig doll appears again but, this time, on top of the circular racks scattered across the shop. Uneasy, she walks over to it to see where she knows it from. But, there’s only a symbol. An identifiable symbol. The symbol her ex-boyfriend frequently splattered across his books. The same ex-boyfriend who attempted to tattoo the icon on her body. The same ex-boyfriend who grew in anger when she fed the dog before him. The same ex-boyfriend who trashed her house after she broke up with him. Fear of repeating the past, she immediately pulls out her cell phone and starts typing a message. 

“Jason, leave me alone.”

Delivered.

“We are not together anymore nor will we ever be.”

Delivered.

“I know these gay ass pigs are appearing because of you.”

Delivered.

“I’m just trying to shop.”

Delivered.

“Fuck off!”

Delivered.

7:30 PM
Perfectly timed to The Woman finishing her favorite takeout, the dog grabs her harness and leash, and runs to her for their nightly routine of exploring the neighborhood. 

10:30 PM
Just as the adrenaline flooded her system earlier, melatonin calms her body back down as soon as her bedtime strikes. Crawling into her bed after putting on her day-specific pajamas, she doesn’t think about the germs infesting her body and mattress. With her head hitting the pillow—practicing her breathing routine—she falls asleep within minutes. 

03/09/****

5:30 AM 
Regardless of how grating and upsetting her alarm clock is, she doesn’t replace it since the repetitive and singular sound wakes her up like a Manchurian Candidate whose only objective is to get ready and teach a group of angry boat owners how to properly handle an “inconspicuous” weapon. 

6:45 AM
“Remember everyone, you need to make sure your gun is parallel to your shoulders. To succeed in shooting your target, you must align your body with what you are trying to take out,” the stoically, OCD-conditioned woman tells her class of white-haired, pink and eggshell-toned men.

9:30 AM
Finishing her kickboxing class, contemplating her next meal, The Woman mechanically walks back to her car. But, when arriving at her car, she makes eye contact with the same small-haired pig doll she saw not too long ago sitting on her roof. 

“What the fuck, Jason,” she outwardly questioned.

Quickly bombarding her ex-boyfriend with another slew of texts, she doesn’t notice he hasn’t even read her previous messages. 

“Get a fucking life, Jason!” 

Delivered.

“How are you still trying to exist in my life after everything you’ve done to me?”

Delivered.

“We’re not getting back together!”

Delivered.

“We’re not going to get married one day!”

Delivered.

“And we’re DEFINITELY not hooking up again!”

Delivered.

She clenches her body, squeezes her smartphone, and forces it into her backpack. With the guttural growl you can only vocalize after a hard workout session, the confident woman grabs the cute pig doll and throws it toward the parking lot. 

7:30 PM
Despite eating her favorite meal again, The Woman’s anxiety festers. The idea her ex-boyfriend is still chasing her with these childish pranks only intensifies her murderous emotions. Sitting and staring blankly at her military show, she wishes something would take away these bad feelings. Her dog doesn’t care about her emotional and mental health, though. Walking up to her with leash and harness in mouth, The Woman sighs and cares for her sentient possession. Staring at her dog before they head out the front door, The Woman slightly smiles.

10:30 PM
Feeling refreshed from the longer-than-usual walk, she gleefully puts on her day-specific pajamas and jumps into bed. Refusing to wash the gunk and filth she collected over the day, she rests her head on the firm pillow and immediately falls asleep. 

03/13/****

5:30 AM 
As the alarm clock blares into the nontattooed woman’s ears, she casually lifts herself up and stares at the wall, wondering what today has in store for her. With her brain firing her up, she yawns and throws the blankets off of her like a princess in a Disney movie. Brushing her teeth and scrubbing the loofah over her body with the unusually hot water flowing down her body, she smiles.

6:45 AM
“Remember everyone, you need to make sure your gun is parallel to your shoulders. To succeed in shooting your target, you must align your body with what you are trying to take out,” the protection-obsessed woman tells her class of country club and gator-snacking men. However, unlike the past few weeks, her calendar is empty. This freedom from running errands will allow her to participate in her favorite pastime: doing nothing.

7:30 PM 
The dog’s routine entrance with leash and harness in tow, she lets out a sigh of contentment. The loyal woman pauses the History channel, stands up, and takes her dog on their casual march. However, as they pass the 24th house on their route—a house they have repeatedly crossed before—she notices an unfamiliar sound radiating from the distance. Despite it not being obtusely recognizable, she can’t shake the feeling she’s heard this cacophony before. As the suspense and anxiety start to swell up, she quickly maneuvers her dog and turns back to their house.

“Something doesn’t feel right, buddy,” she calmly states in her puppy voice. “Let’s go home!”

10:24 PM
As she changes into her day-specific pajamas, she tries to identify where she recognized those sounds. But, the memory doesn’t solidify. Shaking her head in frustration, she pulls down her solid-colored blankets and comforter, sinks into her bed, and forces herself into her nightly coma.

03/17/****

5:30 AM
Despite being used to the blaring alarm clock telling her to wake up at 5:30 AM, she wants to, this time,. ignore it and lay in bed longer. All she could dream about was the strange doll her ex-boyfriend had been leaving around, leaving her groggy and sluggish. Pushing through this blur, she finally notices it: the small, pink-pasteled pig doll.

“Shit fuck! Jason?! How did you get into my house?!”

As she furiously taps on her phone’s screen, the phone starts to ring. It rings and rings and rings until, finally, a drowsy voice answers.

“Brello,” the exhausted and unaware man answers

“Jason, stop fucking following me.”

“[REDACTED]?”

“Of course it’s me. Who else would be calling your desperate grunge,” The Woman aggressively shouts.

“My mom? She’s kind—”

“Shut the fuck up! Stop following me and stop leaving me pig dolls. It’s NOT cute!”

“What? I haven’t been following you,” the noticeably confused man responds.

“Oh, yeah? Then why haven’t you been responding to my texts while leaving me pig dolls?”

“What are you talking about? I’m in a completely different continent than you right now.”

“What? No, you’re not!”

“Do you want me to send my location? I’m in [COUNTRY IN ANOTHER CONTINENT],” the ex-boyfriend states.

Hearing this, nausea overwhelms the physically healthy woman. She doesn’t hear anything else Jason is saying. Realizing The Woman stopped responding, he hangs up the phone. Forcing herself to focus and think about her options, she slowly readies herself for her 6:45 AM shooting class.

6:45 AM
“Remember everyone, you need to make sure your gun is parallel to your shoulders. To succeed in shooting your target, you must align your body with what you are trying to take out,” the anxious woman tells her class of anti-government fanatics. She anxiously looks around at the class to see if it could be any of them. But, they don’t even notice her desperate glances across the field. They just shoot the papers with people of varying disguises but possessing the same skin color.

However, as class ends, there is a singular man, alone, staring at the targets.

“Hi! You did great today! Let me see your accuracy!”

The greying man turns to her and stares at her with a noticeable scowl. He doesn’t say anything—just staring at her. Sensing animosity from him, she tries to end the encounter quickly. But, she’s too late. 

“You were part of the military, right,” the peppered-haired man asks.

“Uhhhh, yes? Are you a fellow veteran?”

Waiting a few seconds before speaking, he says, “Somewhat.”

He doesn’t move an inch. He just stares at the fair-skinned woman with a growing, noticeable resentment.

“Oooookay… Well, I hope you have a great rest of yo—”

But, before she could finish speaking, the man starts to shed, what can only be described as, his outer layer. Revealing a darker-skinned, young woman with a quite noticeable emotional scar seared into her body. 

“Do you remember me,” the five-foot Asian woman monotonously asks.

She doesn’t, but she can’t say that. She senses an intense level of danger—knowing that if she stays around her for too much longer she will be harmed. She doesn’t know how, but The Woman recognizes she needs to leave. 

“Sorry, I have to go. I have to take my dog out,” the once bubbly woman sternly states, hoping to leave the conversation.

“No, you don’t. It’s not 7:30, yet.”

As the fear bubbles up, the nervous woman attempts to flee. But, as she walks back to her car, she notices the only other car there—next to hers. Weirded out, she slyly glances inside and is only left with dread as she sees the pig doll haunting her for the past couple of weeks. Not understanding what is happening, she rushes into her car and speeds off. Unfortunately, she receives a text from her sister, begging her to hang out since the newborns are driving her insane. Hoping an excuse would bubble up, the sister talks over her with an urgent plea to have breakfast at her house. Not wanting to scare her sister, the petrified woman agrees. 

7:42 AM
Driving to her sister’s house, the frightened woman’s smartphone goes off. An unknown number is texting her. 

“You can’t run.”

“I am running,” replies the panicked woman.

“You can’t hide.”

“Yes, I can,” the nervous woman sends to, who she assumes is, the darker-skinned Asian.

After a few seconds, the individual responds with an isolated upside-down smiley emoji.

7:56 AM
Arriving at the sister’s house, the frantic woman looks around to make sure she isn’t being followed. And, to her eyes, she isn’t. But, as she knocked on the door, she still felt the supernatural sense of being watched. Carefully watched. 

“Yay! I’m so glad you were able to make it for a little breakfast treat together. I’ve been up since 3 because these damn kids weren’t letting me sleep in. So! I’m glad you were able to visit after your “Keep Your Communities Safe” shooting class,” the sister happily shrieked.

“No problem, sis,” the—once believed to be—hardened woman replies.

Walking into the two-story, suburban dwelling, The Woman slowly starts to calm down. Believing the Asian woman at the club wouldn’t endanger children, she allowed her body to relax and not focus on the firearm to her side.

8:26 AM
As they talked endlessly about their days and interests, The Woman steadily unwinds. Until she received an image from the same unknown number. Casually looking at her phone, she can’t fully grasp what was sent. Narrowing her eyes and opening the file she sees a photo capturing her with her sister. With panic bubbling up again, she puts the phone down and aims to focus on what her sister is saying. But, learning about the texture and consistency of infant poop isn’t as nearly as interesting as the photo she just received. Then, her phone vibrates again.

“Leave now.”

Read. 

“Meet me at [ASIAN SPA] at exactly 10:17 AM.”

“No,” the frightened woman responds.

“Then your sister and nieces will receive the same fate you will.”

Read. 

“Fuck” the unnerved woman thought.

“10:17 AM.”

Read.

“[ASIAN SPA]”

Read.

Trying to maintain her composure, The Woman attempts to engage in this now dreadful and boring conversation until 9:40 AM.

9:40 AM
“Hey, [REDACTED]. I have to go, but it was great seeing you. I’ll see you soon, though!”

The sister, a little perplexed as to why she’s leaving after only an hour or three, accepts this excuse but is noticeably less cheery.

“Okay. See ya soon,” she dejectedly states.

“I love you, [REDACTED],” the panic-stricken woman says wholeheartedly before hugging her sister tightly and longer than usual.

Quite shocked by this unusual show of affection, but not wanting to ruin the moment, the sister responds with, “I love you, too, [REDACTED].”

Finally, The Woman waves goodbye, heads out the door, enters her car, turns on her smartphone, inserts the [ASIAN SPA] address, clicks “Confirm” on Google Maps, and starts driving. Driving intensely down the road, with no podcasts playing, she seriously tries to contemplate where she would have met and wronged a dark-skinned Asian woman. But, with the life she has led, nothing really comes to mind. Confused, worried, and anxious about what is to come, she aggressively plays the last podcast on her [MUSIC STREAMING APP] playlist. It’s the Andy Daly episode of “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend”. 

10:03 AM
Pulling into a parking spot on the street, The Woman looks around to better gauge her surroundings. But, it’s just the average, busy street. The one difference is everything is in a different language; a dialect The Woman can’t recognize. Shaking her head, she leaves her car and walks into [ASIAN SPA]. Met with, what she assumes is, classic immigrant behaviors, she asks if there is a pass reserved for her. 

“[REDACTED]?”

“Yes, I am [REDACTED],” The Woman hesitantly responds.

“Okay! Nice! Take and go upstairs to steaming room.”

“Oh,” The Woman nervously replies before walking up the stairs. “Okay.”

As The Woman cautiously walks up the steps, she is met with another “sassy” woman who tells her she must put her belongings in one of the lockers they have saved for her. Reluctant at first, she realizes she doesn’t have a choice and slowly puts everything away. Given a towel to cover her years of experience, The Woman is directed down a hallway with a series of empty rooms. The loneliness of the establishment starts to put her at ease knowing no one is there to ambush her. Remembering how small the Asian was, she weighs her chances of taking her on in a fistfight and intimidating her back to wherever she came from.

“Here you go,” the slender, dark-skinned woman says while motioning to a room with one other person inside. The other woman is is nude and doesn’t try to hide her scars. This relaxed state immediately sets The Woman’s adrenal glands off; shouting to fight or flight—no freeze. She chooses to fight.

“Hello,” the unashamed, unshaven, and unrecognizable young woman says. “Do you remember me now?”

Thinking about it for a few seconds, The Woman firmly states, “No.”

“I didn’t think so. You probably had a lot of missions when you were overseas. Who could remember destroying some small town of foreigners trying to live their lives.”

“I don’t know what this is about but I can assure you, I was only following orders.”

“They all say that…,” the woman mumbles to herself. “But, this mission was quite special, wasn’t it? You were given free rein to send a message to your enemies. And you did.”

“Can you just tell me who you are,” The Woman vomits.

“Nootar,” the Asian woman responds while fiercely glaring at The Woman. “My name is Nootar.”

“Natar, loo—”

“Nootar.” 

“Right. Nootar, I don’t know what mission you are talking about,” The Woman barfs with intense quickness.

“Yes,” Nootar confirms. “But, you will.”

Swallowing the accumulation of spit in her mouth, The Woman asks, “Why do you say that?’

“Because it’s worthy of your country’s celebrated Oscar Awards.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds before The Woman starts to glance around her surroundings. But, she only sees burning coals and a thick wooden spoon to pour water over the coals. 

“I was 7 when you came to my village, but, before the arrival of your comrades, we were a peaceful community. Sure, we had the occasional outburst from untreated mental illness, but… peaceful for the most part. We bargained over food and services, and took care of each other’s children when parents worked.”

“Okay…”

“Then you and the Americans came. We didn’t even have time to react. You just set fire to everything,” the athletic-looking Asian states. “Does your country still use those gel flamethrowers or were they outlawed?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, right… The gel was much worse. It clung to your body and burnt your limbs until you died from shock,” the foreigner says with sadness slowly slithering across her body. “That’s how my dad died.”

“I’m sorry about that… But, we were at wa—”

“We decided to hide in our homes, but our walls did nothing to protect us from the bullets. And there were so many bullets. So many… Then an eerily length of silence. It felt like years passed, which is when my mother went outside to check on her husband of 13 years… She was also introduced to your flamethrowers.”

The Woman’s eyes start to tremble, remembering this mission. They were told to send a message to the enemy. Her explicit orders were to, “Destroy and leave a messenger.”

“My brother and pet pig pushed our bodies as deeply as possible into the cabinets, but we couldn’t… completely fit. I think that’s how your soldiers found us. Cowering in fear.”

“You were the messenger,” The Woman faintly whispers.

“Don’t get ahead of the story,” Nootar vehemently spits out. “I want you to remember. Every. Thing.”

The Woman, now staring at the floor, shaking in her towel, contemplates her next move. Should she try to fight Nootar or should she see what she wants? Not wanting to anger the much younger, more fit individual, she listens. For as long as she can. After all, she can see Nootar isn’t carrying.

“My brother and I were forced to come out to the village square. Just as the remaining survivors were. Andro was placed in front of me and we stared at each other while we cried over our parents’ deaths. Our uncles’ and aunts’ deaths. Our cousins’ deaths. Our community’s death. We stared at each other frozen in fear. Then… you spoke. You walked up to us and remarked on how we were the only children left. How we were… adorable children who will live long lives. Or could live long lives. Then… You stared at each of us for a few seconds, smiling at our desperation for survival, and took my pet pig.” Nootar stared at The Woman for what felt like 20 minutes but was only 2 seconds before continuing her story. 

“Without saying anything, you stabbed Belly in the stomach and cut off its feet before tossing it back to me. Its squeals… still keep me awake. Then you yelled at your comrades to shoot everyone in the head except for Andro and me. So, they followed your orders. They walked behind each prisoner and…” Nootar motions shooting someone in the head and slumping over. 

“Everyone except Andro and me. Then… you tossed us the knife and said “I’m going to give you a choice. One of you will have to decide, but still a choice. One of you will have to kill yourself to let the other one live. Decide. You have four minutes or we’ll choose for you.” You didn’t walk away. You just… stared at us with that stupid smile on your face. My brother… My brother quickly grabbed the knife and plunged it into his stomach, tearing it open… I don’t eat meat now… Then, to show your compassion, you sliced my face and chest with the bloody knife before “letting me go.” As I ran as fast as I could, I could hear laughter. Laughter until I entere—”

Utilizing this moment, The Woman cut off Nootar’s unending monologue and flung the coal container at Nootar’s face, grabbing the wooden spoon, and running away. The Woman, desperate to survive, ran as fast as she could. But, she didn’t get far because this same steaming floor also contained a gargantuan mud floor. A 4-foot-deep mud room heated to the perfect temperature to keep it moist but not gross. The nutrient-filled mud is why the [ASIAN SPA] was as popular as it was. Falling into the pit of thick slop, she wondered why her day was going this badly and what her dog was doing. Caked in the beneficial sludge, she wildly grasped for something to pull her out. But, there she was, calmly staring at The Woman’s flailing. As Nootar watched, an employee came in and gave her a robe to cover herself with, which she did.

“Do you want to know how I found you,” Nootar asked The Woman trying to trudge through the inedible slushie. “Social media can do wonders when used correctly. For instance, your “shooting club” highlights you as their employee of the month and shows your chronically scheduled class times. Good job in being brainwashed. America military may train you through high-performance routines and techniques, but it also mandated a fierce schedule to religiously follow. None of you have been different.”

“Please… Please… I’m sorry for what I did,” The Woman madly begs while still trying to reach the ladder.

“Probably are,” Nootar definitively responds. “But, I don’t care.”

The Woman finally reaches the ladder and starts running out of the spa. Periodically glancing behind her, she notices she isn’t being followed. But, as she passed each room, different employees started popping out and putting their index finger and thumb in a capital L formation. Fleeing in the opposite direction of everyone else, she finally reaches the exit and slams against the door to open it. Fortunately, The Woman sees two cops down the street talking to, what The Woman assumes is, a crackhead, and thrashes her arms about; mud spraying everywhere.

10:38 AM
“Look, we know you don’t have a home, but you can’t shoot up here,” says the 6-foot-tall cop.

“Why not,” asks the high nomad.

“Yeaaaaah, there are kids around,” says the 6 foot 1 wide cop. “There’s an alley down there. Go in the alley and overdose. It won’t hurt their property value.”

Noticing movement in the corners of their eyes, the cops turn to identify a dark-skinned woman with a skin condition, waving around some sort of phallic-handled item. 

“She’s got a gun,” they shout. 

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG*

25:99
|In a land not too far away is a woman named Nootar. She’s a survivor of one of the many war crimes committed in the name of peace. So, for her own peace, she wrought out the anger she’s accumulated over the years on those—she believes—deserve it. Does she face repercussions? The police force investigated her but, with the relationships she established with other war-torn orphans at the spa, she was able to fly back home with ease. Walking away from the spa, sleeping on the plane, and smelling the fresh air of her home country allowed her to fully process the success of her decade-long plan. She enters her apartment and stares at the shrine she made of the people who were murdered to send a message. She smiles knowing her community, brother, mother, father, and pet pig are happy for her joy.