how did this happen. . ?

07 - head wounds

A yawn escaped your lips as you finished mopping the aisle near the chips. Exhaustion clung to every part of you. Midterms were in full swing, and though you'd powered through most of them, two tests still loomed ahead. They were supposed to be easy, but that didn't stop the gnawing worry in your gut.

Quick footsteps approached, followed by your coworker's hurried voice.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm so sorry to drop this on you, but my mom's sick. She needs the car to get to the hospital, and I have it. I might be back, but I've gotta go now. Can you hold down the fort?"

You gave a tired thumbs-up and a smile. "It's not like I haven't run this shift solo for months. Go ahead."

They thanked you and darted to clock out. You made your way to the front and watched as they sped off. The night shift was quiet. You liked it that way.

Especially since Sally only came when you were alone.

And right on cue.

"Hi, Y/N!"

The bell above the door jingled as the little girl dashed toward you.

"Hello, Sally. Were you waiting long?" You walked with her behind the counter, retrieving her coloring book and snack stash from under the desk. You'd gotten used to her routine: wait outside, come in when it was safe, and keep you company.

She shook her head. "Just got here. Lucky timing, I guess."

You hummed, smiling, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of chit-chat and coloring. Time passed quietly until the bell rang again.

Your nose wrinkled.

The man who stepped in looked like he hadn't seen a shower in days. You could smell the weed on him from across the room. He shuffled toward the back fridges. You glanced at Sally, who was still focused on her crayons.

"Hey, Sally," you said gently, "would you mind going into the office for a minute while I ring this guy up?" You nodded toward the break room behind the desk. It had long since become your storage and safe space.

She followed your gaze, noting the man grabbing a pack of beer. With a quiet nod, she let you help her off the stool and walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

Your hand slipped into your pocket, fingers curling around the pepper spray.

The man approached the counter.

"Just this," he grunted, setting down the alcohol, "and a pack of those." He pointed to the Marlboros behind you.

You grabbed the pack, rang it all up. "That'll be $17.99. Cash or card?"

His face twisted. "Just give me the shit so I don't have to cut you."

Your stomach tightened. "Sorry, sir. I can't do that. Want to put something back?"

He slammed his fist on the counter. "I said, give me my shit. Or I'll cut you."

This time, he pulled a knife from his pocket.

But before the blade could rise, your pepper spray was already in action.

His scream tore through the store as he stumbled back, clawing at his eyes. You froze; deja vu washed over you. You couldn't decide what scared you more: this moment or the night you met Jeff. Maybe it was because Sally was right behind the door.

The man staggered forward and knocked the spray from your hand. You weren't fast enough to dodge his grip as he yanked your hair, slamming your head onto the counter.

"You fucking bitch! I'll kill you!"

You scratched at his arms, panic surging through you. The bell above the door rang again.