the-cashier

Long Exposure (See 'Moments')

Sat, 16 Nov 2013 16:33:13 +0100

I look up from my book. I'm at my second job, the zombie shift (11:00 p.m.-5:00a.m.) at a gas station in a nowhere town. This girl is the first living being I've seen in about half an hour. I can't help but wonder what a sixteen-year-old (or thereabouts) is doing at a gas station at 2 a.m., but to each their own, I guess. I think she's high. She looks somewhat dead, half-tired and half- empty, swaying like a skyscraper on a windy day. She fumbles half-restlessly at the hem her oversized sweatshirt, bringing it a couple inches lower in her legging-ed thighs. She runs a hand through long, limp, mussed-up hair as she stares, somewhat disoriented, at the Monster selection. Eventually she picks one up and brings it to the counter, only then realizing that she didn't have any money on her. As she starts to pick it back up to take it back to the fridge, I notice something in eyes that are not bloodshot, but blurry. The thick eye-makeup that looks like it's but rubbed around and slept in. The look of vague embarrassment on the pretty face. She's not high. She's on a lever I was at once. Not hurting or happy or empty, with clear perspective and yet hopelessly confused.
I pull a couple dollars out of my pocket. "It's fine," I say. "Take it."
He eyes widen a bit, but then she bites her lip, and then she smiles. Half-heartedly, but genuinely. She nodded and walked out, forgetting the energy drink.
***
She walks back to her house, half an hour from the gas station, feeling incredibly stupid but also not caring. If she didn't beat the light home, her parents would know she was gone. She doubted they'd approve of her midnight stargazing from the highway. She jogged for about thirty seconds, then decided it wasn't worth it. She would get there when she got there.

Ellen

Sun, 21 Jul 2013 18:19:27 +0100

Groceries, coffee, and...
"This is Missy Higgins!" I exclaim, excitedly looking at the CD case. "I love her!"
The woman checking out is pretty nondescript: long, dirty blond hair hangs in her thin, pale face, half-covering eyes of rich chocolate. She's rather small in every aspect: short, slender, and very quiet, almost timid. Like a little mouse.
She smiles wanly. "Yeah, I like her too..."
"I didn't know we had any of her stuff here. This was just with all the other ones?"
"It was in with... uh... the Fine Frenzy..."
I gape at her. "You're kidding me. I didn't know we carried them either! I know what I'm doing when I finish my shift! How'd you hear about her, anyway?"
"Uh... Pandora... that song... This is How It Goes... I like it."
"Beastly song. Here ya go. Hope you have a nice day. Enjoy the CD!"
She gives another small, scared smile and walks away. She looks like a dog after being kicked around by its master for a few years. I silently root for her as she slinks off. Fight the power!
***
"Where's my beer?"
"I... I forgot..." Ellen stuttered. Stupid! she mentally berated herself. Of course he'd notice!
"Forgot. Right." She felt his knuckles knock her face forty-five degrees to the left and stumbled back against the counter, but kept quiet.
"I... I'm sorry..."
"Whatever. Just leave me alone. I'm gonna fix myself some coffee." He said the word with such disgust, as if it were disgrace for anything non-alcoholic to pass his lips. She should have just gotten the beer. At least he was nicer drunk.
Halfway out the door, she whispered, "You're a jerk."
"And you're stupid and have no boobs," he yelled. She heard the crash as a plate hit the wall to her right, not even jumping.
"I know," she whispered. "But you're still mean."
She walked back to her room with her head bowed, sucking in all the verbal abuse strewn her way. She crawled into their bed and cried, but quietly. He hated the noise she made when she cried.
About an hour later, as she was lying in her little ball, biting her lip, trying to pretend that she was asleep, she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.
"You alright, Sweetheart?" he asked, his voice noticeably quieter than during his earlier tirade. She nodded slightly, fighting off the tiny smile. She loved him when he was like this, the calm after the storm. He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"I love you, you know," he said, still quiet.
She chuckled. "No, you don't. But it's okay."
"You're so adorable," he crooned with a smile of his own.
She shrugged. "Are you gonna stay here?" she asked quietly after a few minutes.
"For a while."
She knew she could do better. That this guy wasn't a good one, that he didn't love her, and that surely a girl like her, who had never done anything all that bad, surely she deserved better.
But she loved this one.
That song she had mentioned to the cashier. She loved to imagine what would happen if she played it out. He'd start yelling, but instead of sitting pretty, she'd yell back. And then she'd leave, and he'd chase her down. Maybe. But she knew he wouldn't.
So she never bothered running away.

Dawn

Thu, 28 Feb 2013 19:19:56 +0100

Something about the girl seems familiar, but I can't place her. Maybe... Oh! That's it! Last time I saw her I think she had brown hair. She was with some awkward girl and some moody guy. She's a lot quieter now, though. She looks really serious, and maybe... scared? I dunno. Whatever. I wring up the makeup and the...
"Are you old enough to buy this?" I ask, looking skeptically at her young face and the Budd Light. She flashes an ID, though, and no matter how fake it looks, I'm not a cop so I ignore it. As she shows me the card, though, I can't help but notice some pretty gnarly scarring on her wrist. She must do that a lot.
I normally don't talk much, but I can't help pasting on a sympathetic smile before she walks away. "Have a nice day!" I say quietly. Who knows what she's going home to.
***
Trey met her at the door.
"Where have you been?" he asked, sounding more annoyed than curious.
"I went to the store," Dawn said quietly.
"You went to the store hours ago."
"Yeah, and then I met up with Tony and-"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You my phone," she shot back with a bit more attitude than her boyfriend seemed to like.
"Hey, I thought it was 'our' phone," he said defensively.
"Yeah," she mumbled, "'ours'... and my daddy pays for it..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing... Trey! Stop it!"
"What, now I can't get love or any respect?"
"I'm not in the mood," she grumbled, trying to pry his hands off her waist. "Trey, let go!"
"Chill, baby! I'm just playing!"
"Whatever." she started to walk away but her wrapped his arms around behind her.
"You know I love you, right, baby?" he asked.
"I love you too," she said somewhat sincerely, somewhat helplessly. She did love him. He might be controlling and a bit mean when he got drunk, but he loved her, too. Why else would he get so jealous when she hung out with other guys? And of course he didn't want her at her own house, her parents might not let her leave again. She knew they meant well, but they were so controlling, and it really seemed to upset Trey. And he got her weed. Who would pay that much for someone they didn't love?

Lady

Fri, 12 Oct 2012 22:09:44 +0100

The trio was laughing as they checked out. One was a brunette, tall, with sidebangs, very long hair, no make-up and a really odd laugh, but behind all that seemed to be a concern for more than a few things. She needed this laugh.
The other girl was also a brunette, with side bangs, but very small, with short hair and lots of make-up. She was acting almost drunk, but her eyes were clear. No one acted like this all the time. She was escaping from something.
The third was a guy, with auburn hair and an Iron Man goatee. He was a couple inches taller than the tall girl. He seemed to be barely covering a large amount of bummed-out-ness.
I rung up a massive bag of Hot Tamales and a four-pack of Monster. They were still laughing as they walked out, the smaller girl rapping some really inappropriate song.
***
Lady was exhausted when she walked in at midnight. She hadn't seen Dawn in forever, and she had warned her parents she'd be home late, so luckily the door had been unlocked. She locked it behind her and went to get a shower.
After they had gotten back to Tony's house from Wal-mart, the three of them had shot pool in the small room in the back of the garage. She grimaced as she worked the shampoo through her long, dark hair, remembering the off-color jokes she had pretended to be okay with and the sexy moves Dawn had been making all night. It had been worth it, though, to see Dawn laugh. Every time she saw Dawn lately, she was with Trey, and Lady really didn't like Trey. He reminded her of Gin from Bleach, always happy, friendly, laughing, enough to make him extremely suspicious. And Dawn never laughed around him, or even looked happy. She always looked like she wanted to kill something. Lady couldn't understand why she would want to live with someone so loud, controlling... unnerving. It confused her and made her worry. A lot.
Tony seemed to be all right, but she could tell he was still upset about Trish. It was always weird when her best friends decided to get all couple-like and then decided to get mad at each other over nothing. What was she supposed to do? She wasn't going to down on either of them, and there was never anything she could do to make Tony all right. So she had ignored his poorly veiled melancholy and just enjoyed the first time all of them had been able to hang out in forever.
She towel-dried her hair and checked her phone. It was a message from Cameron.
"They're sending me out the 15th."
Of course. That couldn't go right, either. Cameron was one of her best guy friends, but while she was on a mission's trip he had enlisted in the marines, and they had decided to send him out a few months early. The 15th was only a few days away. She told him that she was happy for him, tagged on a smiley face, and then cried into her pillow.
"God," she whispered, her voice muffled, "I need Your help right now. I know that you are in control. I know that. And I know that your plan is perfect. But how do I handle this?"

Victoria Blair

Tue, 11 Sep 2012 00:45:43 +0100

The girl looked concerned... No, not concerned... more like scared to death. She didn't look more than fifteen, with long, curly dark red hair and an odd, spider-web-like pattern drawn in eye-liner around her massive, red-rimmed, blue-green eyes. She was only about five feet-tall, and not wearing shoes.
I wrung up her short purchases- heavy-duty bandages, prescription pain medicine (I was stunned that she was nineteen, but she had both the prescription and her ID), and lots of chocolate cookie dough ice cream.
***
"Brandon," Vicky called to her six-year-old brother, "get out of the road!"
The little boy continued to run, and Vicky had begun to walk towards him when she saw the car.
Obviously, the driver was not paying all that much attention. She had a cell-phone to her ear and her head was nodding, as if to music. The woman's eyes widened when she saw the red-haired girl running towards the road, and her foot slammed on the brake when she saw the kid chasing some big bug... but not fast enough.
She jumped out of the car. There was blood on the road, a girl screaming for her mom, and a small, middle-aged woman crying and running full speed towards her son. She had hung up the minute she saw the girl, and now used her phone to call 911 and report the accident, as the woman from the house screamed at the red head girl for not paying attention.
More yelling, and the girl and her brother (who had just run from the house) leapt into their own car and sped away, presumably towards the supermarket; the woman wasn't entirely sure, as everything she heard came in fuzzy, like a radio playing about ten miles out of the station's limit. The blades of a helicopter could be heard within a few minutes.
***
Without waiting for her fifteen dollars in change, the girl darted off with her ice-cream and meds towards a male version of herself, and the ran out of the store like it was on fire.