chapter 1: in the beginning

The blue glow from Heather’s computer screen filled the room she was in. The LED clock on her desk red 03:13. This wasn’t her first rodeo, she made coffee.

"The mayor’s office confirmed that there was no truth to the rumors made on Sunday. And he reiterated there would be no further investigation into them." The clatter of keys on her laptop was an almost comforting sound to her, a familiar one since her days at college. She reached for the mug on her desk only to find it empty.

“Shit”. She got up. Only to immediately feel the blood rush to her head. Prompting her to grab onto her dresser for support. Heather yawned and walked back to her kitchen. Her ex boyfriend Michael had taken most of the furniture, and appliances. Including the microwave. However, he did leave her the coffee maker as he preferred tea. As she hunted around looking for a coffee filter, a text message appeared on her cellphone.

“You finished that mayor story yet? It’s due in 3 hours”. When she was back at her desk, she groaned reading it. “Can someone cut me some slack?”

Heather went to journalism school and even managed to get out of it debt free. But now she wasn’t exactly living the dream she always envisioned for herself. There was little investigation, little excitement. It felt so routine, so dull now. All of the stories her editor threw at her mostly amounted to crap that put her to sleep. She put her phone down and went back to her laptop. Before eying an alert on her web browser from Facebook.

Your friend Michael has changed his status to in a relationship

“Typical” she said softly. A tear welling in her eye. She knew it was bound to happen eventually, he had told her about it. But it just felt so real and definite now. She closed her web browser and went back to work. Being alone and homeless wasn’t an ideal prospect to her.
~~~
“I’ve got some good news team. We’ve got a few new advertisers” Heather’s editor Valerie announced to the room. A group of similarly bored looking journalists sat around a circular table facing toward a whiteboard. A series of company names were being scrawled on it in red ink.

“That means we’ve got a few less trashy stories to write, a bit more pull you know?” Heather rolled her eyes; she heard this one before. “And I’ve got a few leads for you folks.”

Valerie wrote down a few names. Donahue, Tybalt, Faris and Lincoln. “Who wants what?”
“What?” Heather asked curtly. “What are those?”

“Names of different stories. Donahue is about the actor Paul Donahue, word around the grapevine is he’s cheating on his wife. It’s sure to get a lot of hits if we put the story out now. Who wants it?”

“Dibs” A male journalist named Eric in the back raised his hand.

“You got it” she scratched out the name. “Tybalt’s about the new nuclear power plant in Tybalt, Indiana. We need someone to head down there and document the Native American protest going on right now.” Heather shuddered; protests weren’t her bag. Too much noise and chaos, she had enough of that as it was. Valerie looked around the room and eventually pointed to a female journalist on her left. "Thank God" she thought.

“Faris is about a new hotel opening in Faris county Florida. Owner advertises it as a self help retreat. It’s gotten some buzz in the media over how it doesn’t use traditional psychotherapy to cure people of depression and anxiety. Who wants it.” Again, the room fell silent. Valerie looked around. Heather was secretly hoping she wasn’t going to be picked. Her hopes were dashed a second later when her name was called.

“It’s yours dear. You need a break too. Treat it as a vacation.” Heather smiled a little. Her editor was a nice lady, when she wanted to be. Plus she didn’t have to deal with a protest.
~~~
FARIS COUNTY FEATURES NEW HOTEL RUN BY EX MAGICIAN was the first hit on Google about the hotel. It was officially named “Lake Faris healing lodge” aptly named apparently. She scrolled through a few articles from a few nothing websites documenting it. They ran through the basic rigmarole about these sorts of places. How people went there after a history of heavy drug use, bathed in the lake, went sun tanning and came out addiction free. Didn’t seem to have a religious component, at least at first. She scrolled through some of the articles and saw a name. “Jezebel Richards”.

“Jezebel Richards saved my life. She taught me the light” A rather portly woman said in a Youtube video about the lodge. “She healed me of my vices.”

“Judging by your waistline she failed miserably” Heather mused to herself. Maybe she traded a drug habit for an eating disorder. The clock on her desk read 06:59, in a minute her alarm was going to ring. Indicating when she was supposed to wake. She forgot to sleep though, and there was always time on the plane to catch up. The healing lodge story was too good to pass up. Plus, the warmer Floridian weather could only be a step up from the drizzle that appeared outside her apartment.

“Time to go.” She said softly to herself. She walked casually over to the bathroom and started to undress. Heather had long brown hair, she never had to work to straighten it. It just came out that way, much to the jealousy of her two sisters. She had a thin gaunt complexion, due to her many sleepless nights as of late. She found it hard to sleep since Michael left, and had stopped fussing about the crows feet under her eyes. Dating was too much of a hassle anyway, it’s not like she needed anyone anyway. She had an incredibly slim build and never really had to work at it. Regardless of how much she would eat Heather rarely gained much weight that actually stayed on. She was a taller girl too, something that also made finding a man harder. Not that she really cared but some guys were insecure about it and always made an issue of it. She took a shower, feeling the warm water on her skin. And felt herself wake up a bit. She yawned one last time and started to apply some soap.