Somnia | $crim

10. Sleep Paralysis (part one)

Warning: g*n

July 4th, 2015

I still felt betrayed by you. For two months, you had been lying to me about who you are and what you were doing. Do I believe you when you said you're recording a new mixtape so you couldn't come over? Or was that just an easy excuse for you?

On the other hand, you confessed so much that I couldn't blame you for how your life ended up. I could never step into your shoes to understand how life took you to this point. Does this change who you are? Are you still the same Scott?

Maybe I saw too much of my mom in you.

"Life goes on," Carmen said, as she curled up in her bed. She was usually so critical of men, so she surprised me by reacting so calmly to the latest update. I felt bad for sharing your personal information, but in the same vein, I needed someone to confide in too.

With a sigh, I put on my work uniform and left my siblings in the care of Carmen. I don't typically work night shift, but somebody had called off last minute and they offered incentive pay.

Tonight's shift started as a normal night at the gas station. I walked through the back, set my things in my locker, clocked in, and stood at the register for probably 3 hours with no customers. 

"Your total is $24.62," I robotically replied to the first customer of the night. He bought some gas, a drink, and candy. Thrilling.

Another hour went by before I saw another person. This one didn't wander the aisles as some people do, instead, he came straight to the counter while I was stocking the shelves in front. 

I don't think I was ever completely honest with you about what happened that night. You never asked, and I didn't want to talk about it. I left a lot of parts out to protect you. I'm not sure I can tell the truth, even now.

"Give me all the cash in the register," he demanded, pointing a gun at me.

I wanted to run, fight, scream, something...but I couldn't. I froze in front of the candy, my arms full of packages of gummy worms.

"I said, open up the register, bitch," he demanded again but I still couldn't force myself to move no matter how much I tried to convince myself to. He couldn't wait for me, so he trudged towards me, grabbed me by the back of my neck like a dog, and forced me to walk towards the register. "Open it."

My hands hovered over the computer, but I blanked on what to do as he pressed the gun against my temple. We didn't carry the keys to open it. What do I do?