Stuck at the Galleria

Act 1: The Fall (part 3)

The next thing I remembered after that was seeing a blurry yellow light hanging above me. It was dark and weird. There was an air around it that made me feel like I was in both a crummy cubicle and a jail cell at the same time.

Man, was I out of it. I was dizzy and felt like I was coming back from the dead or something. Strange feeling for sure, especially when you wake up somewhere you don't even recognize.

I started sweating profusely as I lifted myself from the pleather loveseat I was lying on top of.

"Oh, it's you."

I got paranoid in a snap. Who was this and how did they know me?

"Subject number 159613, teenaged black male, found knocked out on Straight Shot ground with no parent, guardian or authority figure after the Enforced Escort Policy."

"W-what?"

This was the place nobody wanted to be, especially after hours. The mall security department.

"State your name, 159613."

"Um, okay, I'm Tre."

"I meant your full name, you rat," said the guard.

"Tre... Listman?"

I turned around to find a man behind the counter with a very gruff look on his face, though it seemed almost as if he were actively trying to keep up a facade. He had the strangest grayish tone, almost as if his color was desaturated by my eyes, and he had a dull brown combover-style mop even though there was hair all over his head.

A quite strange fellow.

"Well, Mr. Listman, you are in quite a heap of trouble.”

As if I didn’t already figure that out.

“I’ll have you know, Mister--” I paused to read his nameplate, then attempted to pronounce his name--“Carl Ollins Weis-ber-ger,-”

“It’s pronounced Weis-ber-zher.” he interrupted.

“Weis-ber-zher, um, excuse me, that the whole thing was an accident-”

“That’s what they all say.” he interrupted, again.

Dang, was this guy rude or what?

"I don't think I did anything wrong, this seems like a mistake."

"A mistake? Oh, really, Mr. Listman? You're saying that my classification here of you destroying merchandise in the Straight Shot with malicious intent and causing disturbance of the peace while in said store is a MISTAKE?!" Weisberger's eyes seemed to almost bulge out of his face.

I hesitated to answer. "Um... yes?"

Weisberger was visibly angry with me for some reason that I couldn't find out.

"Well, allow me to set the record straight," he said, clearing his throat. "“Destroying merchandise without buying it is considered stealing according to Code 19.53 of the Galleria Mall Security Rulebook. Not to mention that the Enforced Escort Policy was also in effect at the time, and your lifeless body was found in the Optical Section of the Straight Shot in the left wing of the mall. You’re a criminal, and you will be sent off to be corrected just like all the other vandals and thieves that are out there.”

I was drawing a blank. I had no idea how to respond to this vocal and legal tomfoolery.

But for some reason, I just said, "That's crap."

Despite that being one of my blurt outs, I stand by it.

"Yeah, well, it may be crap to you but that is how the real world works, sonny. When you're young and dumb you might think the world will be able to be your oyster but as it turns out all it is is a side order of popcorn shrimp."