Charlie's Web

Charlie

"That'll be 10.78," the heavyset man behind the counter sighed as he held his hand out. I could feel his thick cigarette breath fan my face as he waited impatiently. I rummaged through my bag, my fingers dodging old tampons and crumpled dollar bills until they felt the fuzzy exterior of my coin purse. I pulled the money out, watching the man as he counted the change at the pace of an elementary school drop out.

"Have a good day, Charlie," he grunted out, handing me a small plastic bag and sending me on my way. I nodded, stepping out of the cramped convenience store and sitting on a cracked parking block. Wasting no time, I opened the bag, retrieving the pack of menthol cigarettes I'd bought. The ones you can crush between your teeth, god the feeling was so satisfying. Feeling that little pop always started my morning off right. And of course seeing that old man in the store was always a good omen. He was the only worker there that would sell to underage kids, and that fact made me eternally grateful for him. Yes, he did have somewhat of a creepy air to him, and his left eye did sometimes seem to wander off while his right would stare deep into my soul. And if someone happened to tell me that he'd been hiding hundreds of bodies underneath the floorboards of his house I would certainly believe them, yeah the guy was a creep... But that's besides the point, where else would I get my morning smokes and drink if not for him?

I hummed as I lit the cigarette, watching as the end burned and small orange embers floated through the early morning fog. My morning ritual was something very dear to my heart. It kept me sane. Every day before school I had to smoke and have a little something to drink. No, I didn't need to be drunk just to go to school, but a nice buzz never hurt anyone, and that made it a lot easier for me to deal with the assholes that I would eventually encounter there. It was a win-win for everyone. The days were also easier to get through, most times they blurred together, until I would realize months had passed, then forget just to do it all over again. It was a comforting cycle. And who actually wanted to live through high school? Maybe I'd stop the ritual once I either dropped out or graduated. Probably it wasn't even high school, but having to go home every day knowing Vivian would be there to greet me. That seemed more accurate.

The walk to school was a silent one, a walk I undoubtedly could do with my eyes closed. Vivian never felt the need to drive me to school, so I was stuck walking most days. Not that I would trust her to get me to any location in one piece, she'd had more than her fair share of DUIs. Sometimes friends or boys would offer to drive me, and that was nice too. Mostly we would listen to music and smoke weed, and that was okay. But there was something about being alone with my own thoughts that was very appealing. And most times, when a boy or a man does something kind for a girl, they have some sort of ulterior motive. I learned that very early on in life. And so I decided to use that fact to my advantage, men were ridiculously easy to manipulate after all, you just had to know what words to use. Of course, I didn't feel bad about abusing the mild influence and control that I'd taken. It was only fair, and it seemed like something that was owed to me after everything. After my middle school history teacher got touchy with me during a "tutoring session", and one of Vivian's ex-boyfriends stuck their grubby hands down my pants.

"Boo!" Suddenly a heavy weight enveloped me, pushing me forward and sending me tumbling towards the cold, unforgiving concrete sidewalk. My unprepared palms caught me, my body weight causing them to throb and ache in pain as they were crushed further onto the rough ground. My cigarettes were scattered against the filthy ground, my drink foamed and spewed onto the sidewalk. Swiftly, I stood up, turning to face the culprit.

"What the fuck, Ben?" I shoved the large man, giving him a hard scowl then turning to retrieve my dirty belongings from the ground.

"Hey," he reached out to me, grabbing my shoulder and turning my body towards him, "I'm sorry Charlie, I didn't think you were gonna fall. Sometimes I forget my own strength," Ben smirked, and I could tell he was pleased with himself. His cocky attitude only made me more frustrated and I punched him hard in the arm.