KYMERRA HIGHSMOOT - WHAT'S THE PLAN?

​Kymerra is a Full Sail University student studying Creative Writing. She currently lives in Duluth, Minnesota and works full-time at a local pizza shop. She enjoys building models and playing video games when she has the chance.

WHAT'S THE PLAN?​

​When Creed heard that his family had lost their home, and his sister was now forced to live in a hotel, he refused to believe it. Until he went to visit Christina. The lobby was large and bright orange. Everyone moved about as if there were never a quiet moment. He, instead, walked around the building, before coming to a six-foot stucco wall enclosing a patio-like exterior. He lifted himself up and over the powdery white surface. Though she had been expecting him, the ice tinged against Christina's glass, spilling a slight drop on her white blouse. Luscious greens lined every corner of the patio and inside as well. It was no secret his sister enjoyed plants. They provided oxygen with their beauty everywhere.
"Nice hotel room. Very spacious," Creed said, craning his neck to see through the open glass door. A fifty-inch plasma on the wall, two beds, a desk, and a phone. 
"No need for sarcasm. You can blame our very generous father for this adventure," Christina said. Her face twisted in a disgusting frown and furrowed eyebrows rolling out a sigh.
"Yes, I might have heard something, but that's why I'm here. What I've promised is coming to fruition. Do you have what I asked for?"
"Here," she said, pushing a manila folder into his hands and blowing a cloud of light grey smoke in his face. "What are you going to do with that?"
"Maybe turn him in," he said, admiring the documents.
"All of his assets would be gone. You would leave our family with nothing."
"You have nothing now. Besides the only other option would be to kill him."
"Oh, now that's not a wild notion at all," she said, with wide eyes taking a sip. "Please continue, tell me this masterful plan of yours, Creed."
"Now it's not wild to want everything that he has built. It is the least he owes me."
"And what if you kill him and in that will states that I become the head of his company."
"I doubt you would reject your brother who has done this very generous favor for you."
"The deed has yet to be finished."
"I still have the opportunity to reverse the decision so if you would just-."
"I will not conspire to kill our dad or risk his life in jail," said Christina, as her drink flew down crashing into the table at high velocity.
"You knew very well what you were doing when you grabbed these files for me," said Creed.
"And if I were to sign off on this idea, then I would risk going to jail also. We should discuss more pleasant things, such as trying to capture the rodent in your apartment."
He rubbed a finger through his beard. "I was thinking more of a trap. Maybe catch him by the tail, until I can throw him out with the rest of the trash."
"But what if it returns?"
"If that happens, then I guess I'll have to kill it."
"How do you plan on getting away with it? I don't think it would be wise for you to just show up out of the blue. Then all of a sudden, he dies. You would definitely be a prime suspect."
"I thought we were just talking about the rat."
"One in the same. Go on."
"Well, I'll sneak in one night while he's sleeping and either poison him or induce a heart attack."
"Kill him lying next to mom? Good idea."
"Well how about I reenact a Game of Thrones scene and shoot him with a crossbow at a very vulnerable moment."
"You can't even shoot a rat with an airsoft pistol," said Christina. Her laughter alone filled the room.
"I could do something to his car."
"Aren't you afraid they will suspect us?"
"No. Do you want to know how it's going to happen?"
"No. Wait, yes."
"Are you sure it's done," he said to someone on the phone. He held up one finger, before walking into the room. Returning shortly, he snapped the phone shut. "He was murdered by a sniper."
"I guess, I will be getting the phone call any minute." She said, lighting another cigarette. Silence clouded the air in thick smoke. The only thing that could break it was a knock on the door. Through the peephole a man looked down at his feet, fidgeting with his hands. "It's Dad."
Creed nodded for her to open the door while he prepared, slipping on his gloves and the silencer on his gun.
"Hey, sweetie. May I come in," the dad said, standing in the doorway.  "Nice hotel room. Now, remember, this is only," he began to say but trailed off when he spotted Creed in the corner. 
"Surprise," Creed said, opening his arms wide.
Their dad turned around facing the tv but was talking to Christina. "Now I just wanted to inform you," he tried to say but was cut short by a bullet engraved with his name. 
            "Yes, I need someone to come to clean my room. I have made a mess," Creed said, to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Christina bounced on the springs in the mattress, relishing the cool burning rush of alcohol sliding down her throat.