The Night Shift

Here's my story that I hadn't fully told everyone that I'm telling now. About my time working the night shift at Chuck E cheese's after the shooting.

I used to work the night shift at Chuck E. Cheese's every day in December. The pay was decent $10 an hour but that's not why I'm here. I'm here to tell you my story, the story of what happened after December 14th, 1993.

That day was like any other, or so I thought. It was December 14th, 1993, when everything changed. Something terrible happened that night, something I'll never forget. There was a shooting that left three kids and one adult injured. The kids were all so young 17, 19 and then there was Margaret, who was 50, not a kid, but still someone who didn't deserve what happened. I had to speak with law enforcement that night, recounting every detail of the scene, giving them my point of view. But after everything that happened that night, I was ready to quit.

You see, I knew the man who did it Nathan Dunlap. We used to work together. He was just 19, but he was like the rest of us, trying to make ends meet, clocking in, and clocking out. He seemed normal quiet, even. We didn't talk much, but when we did, there was nothing that stood out. He didn't seem like the type who would do something like this. That's what haunts me the most, how wrong I was.

Nathan had been fired earlier that year, and I remember him being upset about it, but nothing more. I thought he'd moved on, found something else. But on that night, he came back. The restaurant was about to close, and there was this strange tension in the air, but I didn't pay it much mind. He walked in, just before closing, with a look in his eyes I'd never seen before. I didn't realize what it was until it was too late.

He waited until the restaurant was empty, just us employees left, cleaning up like usual. That's when he pulled out a gun. My mind froze. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He started shooting Sylvia, Ben, Colleen, Margaret. They didn't stand a chance. He was methodical, cold. I'll never forget the sound, the chaos. I'll never forget the look on his face. I thought I knew him. I was wrong.

Bobby was the only one who survived, but just barely. He played dead, and when Nathan wasn't looking, he managed to escape and call for help. But by then, it was too late for the others.

Nathan stole money from the safe and left. He fled like nothing had happened. But something had happened something that left a stain on that place, on all of us. When the police caught him, he was almost calm, like he'd done what he came to do and it was over. He said it was revenge, that he was angry about being fired, but that explanation never made sense to me. It was more than that, something darker, something I'll never fully understand.

I still see his face sometimes, hear his voice. I thought I knew him, but I was wrong. And that's something I'll have to live with for the rest of my life.

But that wasn't the strangest part of the story. No, that was just the beginning. I'm here to tell you what happened the night I worked the late shift at Chuck E. Cheese on December 15th, 1993 i was gonna quit. After everything that happened, I was ready to walk away, but they made me an offer I couldn't refuse: $30 an hour. They were desperate, and I needed the money, so I agreed to work one last time. What happened that night shook me to my very core.

Driving down the road to Chuck E. Cheese's, I couldn't shake the haunting replay of the shooting from my mind. It was as if the images of that night were burned into my memory, looping endlessly. I was afraid, my nerves frayed, but the offer of $30 an hour was too tempting to ignore.