Hot Like Brazil (2)
"Oh, man. I am so hungover", Yasmin said, sitting up on her bed. Hazel looked over at her roommate, unable to recognize how they had become friends in the first place. Hazel was more of an introvert. Brazil was the only place she had ever been outside of the States. She would much rather read a book, than go out to a party. Plus, Hazel wasn't much of a fan of revealing clothing. Yasmin, however, was loud, flirty, and liked to go clubbing. Her shorts and skirts literally stopped at her belly button. Okay, not literally! It's called exaggeration! "Really?" This was only the norm for Hazel. When was Yasmin not drunk? "It's not that bad. We can still hit up the club!" Yasmin said, raising her hands to the air. Hazel giggled at first. When she looked at her best friend's face, she knew she was serious. "Yas, you just went clubbing yesterday. Take a break." Yasmin rolled her eyes. "Okay, mom. I didn't come down here with you to stay around at home all day. We have to live it up here in Brazil!" Yasmin leaned in, close to Hazel. "Remember. Your parents aren't here to ban you from doing whatever the hell you want. Plus, we don't have to go to the club. Let's go shopping or something." Hazel sighed, but nodded. "Shopping sounds okay."
Less than an hour later, Hazel was lost in the big mall. Yasmin had ran off with some hairy dude, leaving her all on her own. "Yas? Yasmin?" Hazel would call out, as soon as she entered any store. Passersby looked at her as if she was crazy, calling out a name when nobody was responding. She felt crazy too, as she wandered around the large shopping mall. It didn't help that every corner of the mall was crowded with a bunch of people. Hazel made her way through crowds of sweaty people all bunched in one.
Giving up on her search, Hazel sat down on a bench. She crossed her legs, and picked up a newspaper lying beside her. 'Family road trip goes wrong', the headline read. At the bottom of the paper, it said the incident happened in Tennessee. Of course it took place in the States. Situations like these were almost too common in America. Hazel was so deep in concentration , reading, that she didn't even notice the shadow looming before her. Looking up from the newspaper, Hazel made out a tall man, with his hands in his pocket. She backed up into the bench instantly. Oh, My God. He has a gun in his pocket. He's gonna shoot me, Hazel instantly thought. She shut her eyes tight, knowing that she looked like an idiot. For some reason, she thought it would make the bullet hurt less. Hazel sat, knees tucked, eyes squeezed shut for a good minute or so, when she realized nothing had happened. The man was still in front of her, hands in his pockets, looking at her as if she was an alien.