Content Warnings:

​Chronic Pain & Physical Disability

​Phobias: Loud Noises & Being Watched

​Psychological Tension

​"Never mind that. I’m going to show you around. I'll show you how to do things until you know the rules—and I’m not repeating myself, so listen closely." He sounded like he’d done this hundreds of times before.

​He started walking ahead quickly, and I struggled to keep up. We reached a register that looked ancient. "Let me show you how to use this junk," he said.

​I nodded. He pointed at the machine. "First thing—it’s loud. See?"

​The register let out a harsh, mechanical clack. I jumped, the sudden movement sending a fiery sensation through my hip.

​"Jeez, kid. It’s just a sound," he said, looking back down. I felt so weak and dumb around him. "We only take cash. Cards don't exist anymore. Now, see this?"

​He held up a medium-sized, copper-colored coin with a hole in the middle. It was covered in engravings that looked like an ancient language.

​"This is the currency. It goes from a dollar all the way up to six," he explained, showing me the different coins. They ranged from the size of a nickel to a quarter, colored in copper and muted silver. "You have to count it exactly when the customer gives it to you. Understand?"

​I nodded, praying my dyslexia wouldn't make me mess up the numbers.

​"Rule Number 2: Do not acknowledge the forms of the customers. Just do your job. Even if they get weird or try to get under your skin, don't pay them any mind. Get the money and they will leave."

​I nodded again as we moved toward the aisles. I noticed there was no Aisle 4. Why? I wondered.

​"Listen, kid." I looked up—way up. I had to tilt my head all the way back just to see his face. "Rule 3: Don't look at the Tall Pale Man. He comes in here sometimes."

​"Why?" I whispered.

​Colton looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Luz didn't tell me that you... never mind. Don't look at him because he will think you’re his next meal. You don't want that."

​I felt trapped.

​"We check inventory and restock daily. I handle the orders, so you don't have to worry about talking to delivery." As we walked past the freezers, I saw a shadow flicker behind the glass.

​"Kid, never open those or bother paying attention to what you see. It's better you don't know. If one opens on its own, close it fast or call for me. Got it?"

​We moved through a set of red-tinted swinging doors to the gas station side. Colton got very serious. "You really need to listen to these next rules."

​"Rule 7: Don't let anything in. You hear me? If you hear someone out there needing help, you don't go out. You hit this red button, and I'll come out and deal with it."

​"Why?" I managed to ask, fighting through my mutism.

​"Because that is how they get you," he said. "Rule 5: If you see the Hearse, hide under the desk immediately and hit the red button."

​"But why?" I finally found my voice.

​"You don't want to know," he said, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "She didn't fucking tell me you were..." He trailed off, whispering to himself.

​I felt like such a burden. My hip was screaming now, the pain feeling like someone was stabbing me over and over. I was limping so badly I could barely stand.

​"Let me show you the backroom. This is where our sleeping quarters are."

​We reached a small room with a torn-up red armchair. "Sit in the chair," Colton commanded.

​I limped over and sat down slowly. My hip gave a loud pop, and tears immediately started rolling down my face. I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet. Colton looked mad as he started rummaging through an old cabinet.

​I'm in a living hell, I thought. The only way out is death.

​Colton walked back over holding something with a cord. It was a faded brown object. He moved the wire and handed it to me.

​"It's a heating pad," he said.

​I grabbed it, feeling the warmth spread through the fabric. I pressed it against my hip and felt the fire in my joints start to soothe. Thank God, I thought.

​Why did he do that? Maybe he wasn't all bad. Just... maybe.