corpse husband oneshots

book store

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B O O K   S T O R E

you're forced to help the scary boy who comes into the book store you work at for the first time

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I held the book I was reading my hands softly as I got lost into its world. I was enveloped of the story of ley lines and psychics and sleeping welsh kings.

I had started the book at the start of my shift and now a few hours later, perched on the far side of the counter away from my boss, I was halfway through and never wanted it to end.

I loved my job here at the bookstore. It had been my favourite place to visit with my mother when I was a little girl and when she passed when I was 11 it had become my place to go to feel close to her.

Mrs Johnson who owned the store was the sweetest lady who had just turned 80. She had been a very close family friend for years due to my mother and her daughter being best friends and had taken me under her wing after I lost her.

I was never officially offered a job here, it had just went from me coming by all the time to help out to me being given my own shifts.

There was only one downside of working here though, and that was the scary boy that came in all the time.

I knew I was being judgemental which made me feel bad but I couldn't help being too frightened to ever talk to the boy, and so he was always served by whoever else I was working with.

I had been a very sensitive child, which only got worse as I grew up. I knew people found it ridiculous for me to be so sensitive and innocent considering I was now 20 years old but it was just how I was.

I was known around town as shy and childlike, a fact that used to annoy me since I didn't think I acted like a child but I had grown to accept that was how I would always be looked at.

The boy who came in was tall with dark curly hair and slightly tanned skin. He had been coming here since I was 16 and I had never once actually spoken to him.

He was always in dark clothes and chains, and though I knew it was bad I had immediately been scared off by his look.

He was a huge contrast to me in my colourful outfits due to the fact I never wanted to wear black again. I hadn't worn the colour since my mothers funeral.

If his clothes didn't scare me off altogether, his voice certainly did. I had been in the vicinity of him talking before and it had freaked me out. It was the deepest voice I had ever heard, sometimes sounding scratchy and painful.

I did feel really bad for the boy, and had once tried to suck it up and try serve him but I had chickened out and my coworker Anthony had to cover me.

Anthony was a good friend to me, always helping me out when I got too shy to deal with people. I couldn't help that talking to people scared me and he understood that and did everything he could to make me more comfortable here.

I was happy he was who I was on shift with currently, along with Mrs Johnson who had come in to check up on us and bring us something to eat. She liked to make sure we were all taken care of.