Face Down ✓ | Patrick Stump

Chapter Nine

Dedication to LeaveNoWordsUnspoken for following this story! Her Patrick Stump fanfic is amazing, check it out!

“Needed some time so I could find a little strength to redefine what I’ve done, what I’ve become.”

That’s all I needed. Just some time.

Just some time for me to get back on my feet, to try and be my sibling’s mother that they only had for a year.

Just some time for me to find a little strength, and become the person that I’d always hope I would grow up to be.

“Miss Black, what a pleasure to see you!” I walked in and shook hands with Mr. Sparkson, the manager and the person who interviewed me yesterday.

“It’s a pleasure to work here.” He turned around and handed me two blue polo shirts and a two pairs of kakis.

“Here is your uniform, there’s a bathroom in the lounge where you can change. You can leave the second outfit and the one you’re wearing now in your cubby in the lounge as well.” I nodded and made my way to the lounge, which was at the back of the store.

As I changed in the bathroom, I couldn’t help but stare at the cuts and bruises lining my arms. Every single one was from my mother. I tried to count, but eventually gave up, there were too many. I mentally cursed myself for not bringing a long sleeve shirt to wear underneath my shirt. I was afraid Mr. Sparkson would see the bruises and not want me working there, as it might be painful to stock shelves, or customers would be appalled at the sight of them. I sighed and decided to just wear the short sleeves for just one day. I mean, none of the cuts were open, and the bruises had begun to fade. You really couldn’t see too many of them if you didn’t look for them.

After I set my belongings in my cubby (I felt kind of special. Like a certain space of the store was reserved for me, like I was a part of it. Even if it was just a square foot of space.), I made my way to the register, where Mr. Sparkson was waiting with another employee, who I assumed was new, like me.

 “Alright, so Miss Black, this is Aaron Markson. He will be working with you.” I shook Aaron’s hand. He was tall, like, really tall, at least over six feet. If you gave him a bit of facial hair and tattoos, he looked like a giant Pete.

“You two can just call me Skye.” I smiled.

Mr. Sparkson (by this point I was just groaning at his name. Seriously, Sparkson? What kind of name was that? It made me want to puke.) spent a good hour saying things he could have in 5 minutes. Basically we had to work the cash register. If a new shipment came in, one of us would unload it and stock shelves. It didn’t seem hard, seeing as they mostly just sold CD’s and records. If instruments came in, we would both have to unload them and put them in the storage room. If someone came in asking for an instrument, or came in for a lesson, we were to direct them to Mr. Sparkson or their teacher. See? I just said what we had to do in five sentences, more or less.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and after “working” for a good thirty minutes, nobody had even entered the store. By “working” I mean playing around with the cash register so I looked busy.

“Nervous?” I heard a voice beside me. I jumped, startled. “Woah, sorry didn’t mean to scare you.” It was Aaron.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit jumpy at times.” I said, shyly. I wasn’t a people person. “And no, I’m just extremely bored.”

“Do you want to help me stock shelves? There’s a box of CDs over there.” He pointed to a massive brown box next to the door.

“But that’s not a new shipment, we only unload those. And isn’t one of us supposed to always be at the cash register?” I questioned.