The Outsider

6. An Encounter In Hell (Part Two)

6. An Encounter In Hell (Part Two)

The trip to my job wasn't too far away. It was almost the same distance away from the apartment as the university was, maybe a little longer. However, the scenery couldn't be more different. While the immediate surroundings of the apartment building were quite horrible to look at, the closer you moved towards the university, the more gentrified it was.

The same couldn't be said for the other side of town. In fact, it seemed to get worse and worse the further you went. If anything, it looked as though it was experiencing an apocalypse. Paint on the buildings were peelings and windows had been boarded up. The road was littered with potholes and the plants that did line the road were all dying or were already long dead.

When James and I had first stumbled upon our apartment's listing, we wondered why it had been so cheap. We should not have been as surprised as we were to find out the reasoning.

At least we could still afford rent as well as food, though.

After a lot of turns, a couple winding roads, and a few empty stretches, I left the apocalyptic side of town behind and entered a new residential area.

Thankfully, the local council had decided to fund this community as everything was brimming with life and looked much more respectable.

Within a few more minutes of jogging and waving at random strangers on the street who acted as though they knew me; I reached the small shopping centre that sat at the foot of a large hill.

Saying that the shopping centre didn't fit in was an understatement. The hill it sat beneath was the start of the upper-class. At least, it looked that way from the houses that lined it. All of the houses were mansions. Some even teetered on being castles.

It made me slightly depressed. I was living so close to prosperity, yet so very, very far away.

Sighing to myself before slowing my jog to a walk, I made my way around the back of the shopping centre and looked for the delivery door for the shop I worked in. Once I reached it, I quietly snuck inside.

It was my go-to way of getting into the back of the store without having to talk to the customer before I had to.

However, I wasn't technically allowed to use it.

"Need I remind you that door is for deliveries?" My manager's voice reached my ears and I spun around just before I reached the break room, where I usually waited for my shift to begin.

"Can't you see, Reggie? I am a delivery," I said with a large smile, gesturing to myself. "One of hope and prosperity and—"

"I will revoke the right to use my nickname if you continue that speech," Reggie interjected, and I shot him a questioning look.

"You hate being called Reginald."

"It's an old person's name," Reggie mumbled before shaking his head at me. "Don't derail me! No using the delivery door!"

"But, Reggie. Every time I walked through the shop floor before and after a shift, customers stop me and ask for things," I moaned, turning on my heel and walking into the break room.

Reggie was right behind me.

"Matthew, that's your job."

"Not before I clock on!" I defended. "And it's not like I can get changed here. This is a dollar store, and it sure as hell is built like one."

"Hey, that was uncalled for," Reggie muttered, patting the wall of the breakroom gently, as if it somehow soothed the building. "Just do what I say, and sign in. Get on the floor."