Written in response to Reedsy prompt from Contest #304 “Center your story around an author, editor, ghostwriter, or literary agent.“ Expanded from original version.
*Originally published 6/22/2025; updated and split into four chapters on 8/25/2025.
Sarah pulled up and parked, thoroughly disenchanted. Another shift, another round of idiots and zombies to entertain. She looked up at the neon sign, which read “wik-E-Mart”, as the “K” had given up long ago. Much the same as she had. No fireworks or big saga, just quietly stopped trying when no one else was looking.
She sighed, thinking to herself this tired internal monologue of hers really needed to get a life.
She moved as if she was a zombie herself, scanning items and taking payments, completely lackluster and barely there. Low mumbled hellos and will-that-be-alls were as much as she could muster. Her eyes never quite met with those of her customers.
She was turned inward and very clearly expressed in her body language that she didn’t want to be there...or anywhere really.
About halfway through her shift, a couple walked in, very high on who-knows-what. They stumbled and giggled like loons when they knocked over a display of beer, hot dog and hamburger buns, and chips—an arrangement that was intended to entice last-minute preparations for the upcoming Independence Day cookouts.
Beer cans skittered all over, several of them making it all the way back down aisle 3. The hot dog and hamburger buns mostly got crushed by the now laughing couple as they continued to stumble in the mess. Chip bags flew, some of them popping open and spewing their contents everywhere.
The woman started to dance, while the man slapped his knees, turning beet red; his laughter now more closely resembling crying.
Sarah was not amused. In fact, she was irritated beyond belief and moved quickly to usher the couple out of the store. She turned around to survey the damage, noting with irony that at least she wasn’t bored anymore.
As she set about cleaning up the mess, she heard the bell over the door ding, but from her vantage point, couldn’t see who had entered the store. Mumbling under her breath, she reached to pick up the crushed buns and when she straightened, knocked into a small woman who was suddenly right behind her.
Startled, she muttered, “What the hell?” and turned around to find the woman skewering her with a blistering stare.
“I said, where’s your bathroom? Are you deaf?” The woman was dressed all in blue, complete with blue lace-up flats and bluish hair.
Nonplussed, Sarah pointed toward the back right corner of the store.
The woman turned on her heel and marched straight that way like she owned the place.
Shaking her head to clear a bit of muzziness that had suddenly crept in, Sarah resumed cleaning up the mess.
Finishing up with the last bit of sweeping, Sarah dumped her dustpan in the trash bin and resumed her post behind the counter. It was quiet. Really quiet. For a Saturday night, it was awfully dead. She quietly resolved herself to her shift lasting ten lifetimes.
Suddenly, there was a blood-curdling scream from the direction of the Ladies’. Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin. She hurried back and knocked on the restroom door.
“Ma’am, are you okay? Do you need help?”
Mild gurgling was her only response. Sarah felt the hairs stand up on the back of her arms. She didn’t want to be here. She really didn’t want to open that door.
She knew she had no choice.
Quickly, she ran behind the counter and grabbed the keys, all the while hating her life just a little more than usual with each passing moment. She returned and started to jam the key in the doorknob, when it suddenly opened and she was face-to-face with the strange woman.
While nothing appeared to be wrong, something was definitely wrong.
“You’re out of toilet paper and the sink doesn’t work!” Sarah jumped at the ferocity in the woman’s voice.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I hadn’t noticed…” Sarah started to mumble, when the woman unleashed on her.
“Do you have any idea what being a decent human being is? Do you even know your job? What are you doing here anyway?” The woman advanced menacingly on Sarah, as the latter backed up, apologizing and stumbling.
“You’re selfish. Here’s what I know: you are a person who hurts others.” The accusation hung in the air.
Taken aback, Sarah mumbled, “No, ma’am, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“You do, as I stand here, you do. I see it in your eyes; they can’t lie to me.” Tears sprung to Sarah’s eyes, trying to think through the fog that seemed to cling to her.
The woman then gave her a knowing look and said, “You’ll be visited by everyone you’ve ever hurt, and you will learn the truth, though it will surely break you.”
Sarah’s jaw dropped, “Ma’am, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’ve never hurt anyone.”
“You might want to get ready for what’s to come…”
The old woman cackled menacingly as she walked out of the store and into the night.
Next → Chapter 2 — A man in black, a brick, and a porcelain cat.
Thanks for reading! — Liora
🔥 Thanks for walking through this chapter with me.
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Excellent read 😊
"No fireworks or big saga, just quietly stopped trying when no one else was looking."
This felt very real.
The story is so creepy and feels a bit like modern day Christmas Carol.