The Gas Station.
I’m not really hungry, I mean I already had what could pass for dinner and I really should be trying to get home as soon as possible but God I do want some kind of candy. My car is filled with all the gas it could need but I still find myself pulling up to the gas station and heading into the store. It’s quiet, silent in fact. No cars, no birds, not even the sound of buzzing lights that should have been there, the large neon sign was very bright and the dark misty air seemed to reflect it tenfold. The only sound I could make out was that of my own feet on the pavement. The door was already open, propped up by a little wooden wedge.
It smelled quite different inside than outside despite the open door. There was a faint scent of the woods outside, tree leaves, sap, pine needles soggy in the underbrush. Inside though it smelled like new plastic and sticky salty smog. It clogged my nose but I was somewhat used to it by now. It faded into the background as I perused the shelves. Nothing really caught my eye, a couple of name-brand snacks, some candy, and even a little fridge with salad and sandwiches swathed in saran wrap. Nothing was appealing but not wanting to look like a shoplifter or anything I picked up a candy bar. I made no attempt at eye contact while paying, the worker looked tired. She didn’t even bother to say hello as she rang me up. The bar was 2.50 so I got a lighter to make it an even five. I have too many lighters at this point. I left without saying thank you, she didn’t say anything so I didn’t want to be the one to break the ice. Still felt rude though.
Getting back into my car I exhaled maybe a bit too loud because I even startled myself. “Jesus,” I said under my breath, it was like 10:50 and I was already so tired that even breathing startled me. Maybe I was just on edge, this place creeped me out anyway. Ugly ass neon sign, stupid nasty snacks, I shouldn't have bought that candy bar anyway or that damn lighter. Where am I even gonna put it? The glove compartment? I already have some at home, “Jesus” I say again. I must sound stupid if anyone could hear me. I've been sitting here too long, I probably look suspicious. I put my car into reverse but before I back up I see two guys in all black walking towards my car. One of them looks at the other and they seem to laugh. The hell are they talking about? Little punks. Whatever.
I start to back out but one of them starts walking my way. He stops when my car starts moving and so do I. He looks back at his friend who makes a hand across the throat gesture. Cut it out or kill that guy? Jesus my nerves tonight are on fire, probably just some junkie teens wanting to break into my car, try to steal my shit, maybe write something rude with a knife. Kids these days, God. They walked past me, and one of them, the same one who had started approaching me, looked right into my eyes as he passed. Stupid delinquent little punk, trying to intimidate me, probably high on some cheap shit too. I pull out the rest of the way and start driving down the street.
It’s only about a minute after that I realize if they were planning to break into my car who the hell knows what they’re doing now. Nah, they were way too young to be pulling some kind of armed robbery, maybe just shoplifting or something like that. Crazy kids. But I'm driving back now, I don’t know why. I should be home, in bed sleeping, or even looking at my phone. Anything but this. I already feel pretty shitty for not speaking to the cashier so it feels extra wrong to leave her with those guys right? Maybe I’m just curious to see what those kids are up to, hard to tell. I stop my car a short walk away from the station, I don’t want to drive up there like some big hero. Peeking around the corner does nothing so I pull my hoodie down low and step into the light. Harsh neon light blinds me as I make the mistake of staring into it, the cold breeze cuts through my thin hoodie and jeans. It's silent again, the door is shut so when I open it the ring of the bell splits my head like an axe. The cashier is gone, maybe she's switching shifts, in the bathroom maybe, sitting on the floor pretending not to be there. One of these was half right as I peeked over the desk. My eyes bug out of my head and I’m pretty sure I gasped like a scared little girl. No, I really was a scared little girl at this point. There's no way these kids did this. I would have heard the gunshot right? And they’re gone. Did no one call the police? I’m walking back to my car. Fast. Did the kids also rob the place? did they just…? No no, I don’t think I saw the cash register so they probably took it. It's not better but at least they aren't like two psychos killing for fun right? I’m driving again. The candy bar is in my mouth. Its sweet saltiness picks into my mind. Trying to sway it away from my growing horror.
It's almost 1:00. The girl's shift won't end until morning, whenever that is for a dingy little gas station. Anywhere from 5:00 to 9:00 probably. I’m speeding now, my foot pressed down on the gas like it's the only thing anchoring me to this world. I slow down. The last thing I need is some cop questioning me. I take another loud ass breath. It's so noisy now, the bumpiness of the ride is making me flinch every time the car goes back down. I adjust my shirt, God I am sweaty right now. I hope I don’t see those freaky kids. I’m glad they left after seeing I was in the car. Shit man that would have been awful. I can’t risk something like this again. I can hear every breath I take.
Still sweating like I just ran a marathon, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment. It's packed. No parking anywhere close so the walk to the elevator is long. My mouth tastes like chocolate and my own spit. I keep swallowing mouthfuls of the stuff, nasty. When I get to the elevator I turn and I take the stairs instead. Not sure why, I’m already sweaty enough. I keep taking the stairs even after I reach my floor, it’s like I can’t stop my legs from moving. The air up on the roof is crisp and nice. The view is lovely. I can’t see the gas station from here, the thought evens out my breathing even only if it's a little bit.
I make my way back to my floor and unlock my door. I take off my bag, it's heavier now, uncomfortable. I collapse onto my couch, I usually pull it out to sleep on but I’m too shaky tonight. I should take a shower but I'll do that tomorrow. I flick the lighter on and off for a bit before I toss it in the trash. Really I don’t need any more of those.
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2 comments
Well written. This story evoked a chilling word picture, building to a strong conclusion. The imagery and choice of language added to the suspense. This reader anticipates more of such word craft.
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Thank you so much Julie! :D
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