Spontaneous Combustion, Walking, Stalking and Pancakes

Work

Yawn, check.

Turn off iPod and stuff in pocket, check.

Clock in for work, check.

Put on a fake smile, check.

Go to register, wait for it, wait, almost . . .

Okay check.

Cue the work day to begin, joy.

Do job, wait for boss, wait for boss to tell you to stop cash-registering. Walk around the store aimlessly fixing things. Be asked questions. Be nearly run over by little children. Take out Ipod and make sure hair covers all traces of wire. Turn down Ipod. See the hot guy from yesterday. Pass the hot guy from yesterday. Stop walking and ask yourself why you passed said hot guy.

Self?

Yes?

Why did I do such a thing?

Look down at shoes and contemplate craziness. Be tapped, jump and turn around.

“Yes?” I asked the person who had scared me half to death.

Hey, look it’s that one dude. Yeah, you know the one from yesterday.

Yea that one, yea with the super long black hair and the guyliner. You know who I’m talking about.

Yea, yea that one I just passed like a minute ago!

“Do you sell purple hair dye about this shade?” he asked showing me a piece of paper with pictures of Johnny jump-ups. They were a lighter shade of purple.

“I’ll go check.” I told him. “Stay right here.”

Cue seach for nearly impossible color of dye.

Violet, no. Purple, no. Periwinkle, no. Then I decided to try something, if I could light an old man on fire I could make a hair dye the color I want it to be right?

So I concentrated on the color of a Johnny jump-up and then amazingly it was in my hand. Point one for me. Now was one of those times where I hoped what I was seeing was real so he wouldn’t look at me like I was some kind of retard bringing him the wrong color after he had shown me a picture of what he had wanted.

Nervously I handed him the dye. He looked at it for a few seconds, then started to walk away apparently satisfied, but then he turned back around to face me.

“Thanks,” he looked down at my name tag, “Genevieve.”

He said and then turned around and walked away. Also walking away to do my job - not to stalk him or anything - I over heard him on his cell phone.

“Yea I think she’s the One . . .Yea the One. I mean we’ve been searching for her for so long and she just pops up in this small town... What do you mean you don’t think it’s her? …yea whatever man, I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

As he shut off his phone I bent down and pretended to fix something on the shelf. I heard him chuckle and looked up.

“Yes?” I questioned him.

“Well no offense Genevieve, but you kind of look like your stalking me.”

I stared for a few minutes.

Finally realizing that I had my mouth open and probably had looked like a fish, I replied with, “Me, the stalker? Well I’m not the one at your job, knowing your name now am I? I would say that you are the one stalking me.”

I stood up to my natural 5-foot 3-inch self and waited his reply.

There was none.

“Oh come on,” I said. “Not even your name?”

He looked at me thinking for a moment. Apparently deciding on an answer he smirked and said,

“Now if I did that then I would have to kill you.”

I looked at him challenging his threat.

He smiled obviously pleased and then he said, “ Well maybe you could be the one exception. My name is Cain.”

I then looked around in fear, looking at the ceiling and then at the shelves. Cain looked at me in confusion.

I looked back at him and said, “ You said you would have to kill me. I’m waiting for something or someone to come and kill me.”

He smirked and walked away.

I walked away in the opposite direction.

“Cain. Such a nice name,” I thought.

About his name, his face, his personality and especially his voice while I worked.

Walk, walk, walk... wonder why nothing has gone wrong yet. Keep walking, walk into soup cans, yep knew that wouldn’t last for long.

Ow pain.

I got up and started fixing the soup cans... for the 5th time this week and guess what.

It was only Wednesday.

Ah home again.

Oh home how I missed you and your leaking walls & ceiling, creaky floor and chipping paint. Oh and lets not forget the windows showing us the gas station.

I walked into the kitchen starting to cook some rice and chicken. Seconds later Takara ran in and slammed the door. Not even one foot away from the door, she collapsed on the floor crying.

Of course, being the nice friend I am, I helped her to the couch.

“What happened Kara?” I asked, while holding her close to my body.

She shook tears falling out of her eyes and onto my shirt. She looked up, as if she were about to tell me, but then soon after broke into tears again.

“Come on Kara, it’s not that bad,” I paused, thinking of what I could do to help my friend.

“Come on Kara. We’ll have a girls night, and Marco doesn’t come home till late tonight. I’ll get some junk food and a whole bunch of girly movies and we can pig out and watch them,” I offered.

She sniffled and looked up at me with her red and swollen eyes. Taking a deep breath, she then asked me with a hint of hope “Can we get Legally Blonde? And make fun of her preppiness?”

I looked at her as if in shock and said, “How could we have a proper movie night without it?!”

She cracked a smile. I smiled back.

“Okay Kara, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go get the stuff,” I got up off the couch and began to leave, then I stopped and went to the bathroom.

I hid all of the razors and pills.

I wasn’t going to let Takara hurt herself again.

I then happily left the house off to the magic of corner stores and blockbusters.

Walking toward the shady-middle-of-the-block store, I thought about what movies I would get.

Legally Blonde was a must, that much I knew.

Walking into the store, I prepared myself for the smell of onions.

Ugh.

Cringing slightly as I walked in, I went straight for the chips. I grabbed some large barbecue chips for myself and a large bag of salt & vinegar chips for Takara.

Personally I don’t see how she can stand the things but whatever.

I then grabbed Oreo’s, Chips’ ahoy, and lots of Sierra Mist. Going to the counter I bought ten Hershey s’ chocolate bars, eight bags of Skittles and 15 packets of starbursts.

Thinking over all the things I just put on the counter I also bought Bubble Tape for when Takara and I ran out of junk food.

Walking to Blockbusters, I wished that I had gone home to drop off the junk food. It was getting heavy.

“Do you need help dear?”

I stopped in my tracks.

I knew that voice.

I’d know it anywhere. It was him. The man who haunted my dreams. The man I made it my goal to stay away from in my dreams was here.

Realizing I had stopped I started walking again. Maybe it was just my imagination. Yea that’s it, I’m just imagining I hear him.

“Now, now I’m hardly a figment of your imagination. I’m quite real Genevieve,” He said, appearing in front of me.

My eyes widened and I took a step back.

“No…,” I murmured.

“NO! YOU AREN’T REAL! YOU AREN’T!” I shouted at him.

Then, I ran to Blockbusters.

Leaning against a wall in Blockbusters I tried to catch my breath. A few minutes later I was off getting movies.

‘Legally blonde’, check.

‘Sleep over’, ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, ‘Pretty in Pink’, ‘A Cinderella story’.

Check, check, check and check.

And the last one is ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’. Whoo! Fun, fun and more fun.

Going to the renting counter I picked up some popcorn. Nothing better then Blockbusters popcorn.

Before I walked outside I looked out the window to see if that guy was there. He wasn’t.

“Have a nice night.” The sales clerk said politely.

“I will, thanks.” I replied walking out.

As I walked I listened, listened for the footsteps I had grown to fear. The footsteps burned into my brain. His footsteps.

Then I heard them, at first a faint ‘clack-clack’ speeding up every time I would speed up. Then they stopped. I dared not turn around I just ran.

Ran past the small park a block away from my apartment, and ran past the thugs on the corner, ran up the stairs and ran into the apartment and for the first time I didn’t have any trouble with the doors.

The Next Morning

“Ugh Kara get off my legs. I can’t feel them any more,”

Kara rolls over a little putting more weight on my legs and obviously not hearing a word I said. Glaring and picking up a piece of popcorn, I tried to tell her again to get off my legs. As expected she didn’t respond.

By this time I had a handful of popcorn, and had started throwing popcorn at her. Five minutes and 30 pieces of popcorn later she still wasn’t up. So I did what any good friend would do and pushed her onto the floor.

Thud.

“Genevieve…,” came Takara’s voice from the floor.

“Yes?” I answered sweetly.

“Did you just push me onto the floor?”

“Only after throwing popcorn at your head,” I replied, smirking.

She glared for a few minutes finally deciding that being off the floor and free of popcorn was better then glaring at me.

Meanwhile

“Cain you were correct. She does live in that town,” Keiran said.

“I told you Master. I would not have taken the risk of nearly exposing myself twice,” Cain said while bowing to his Master.

“Cain, for this you shall be rewarded. You may go down to the dungeon and choose a slave. You may do what you want with them,”

Cain then gave thanks to his Master and went off to the dungeon to find his self a pretty girl to do his bidding.

Two hours, a shower and a argument later, Marco, Takara and I were sitting peacefully at the table eating breakfast that I made and it was good... and we acted civilized.

Yes, yes I know hard to believe but it happened.

“ ‘an oo ‘ass de ancakes peas?” Marco (attempted to) ask us.

I stared and pointed at the pancakes. “ You mean pancakes, Marco?” He nodded.

“Okay now here’s a tip about the English language, Marco. When we want pancakes we say something that sounds like this ‘C-an y-ou p-ass the pan-cakes plea-se?’ Do you understand?” I told him slowly passing the plate of pancakes to him.

He just nodded and shoved more pancakes down his throat.

I wonder if he has a tape worm sometimes.

I hate public transportation.

Hate it.

Not hate like the hate you feel for someone when they take your last french fry.

More like the hate you feel for someone when the sabotage your life. Much like this bus was doing to me now.

I’m sitting on the bus.

I’m sitting on the bus next to a three year old.

I’m sitting on the bus next to a three year old who has decided it would be fun to try and braid my hair without me noticing.

So far she has been unsuccessful.

Why is the bus so slow today? God is punishing me for something I know it.

Welcome to Hell.

Population 8.

That population being myself and co-workers waiting for business to actually start up.

I hate work.

…I’m pretty sure it hates me too.

“Now listen here you human woman. You will do what I say or I will kill you on the spot. You’re lucky enough for me to have chosen you. The chosen one will come out of this door when she is done with her job. You are to befriend her, make her take you in. Make her think that you would do anything for her. Then we will come. Do this correctly and you will be set free, incorrectly done however you will lose your life and become one of us,”

Come on clock. You know you want to turn to eight. Just a few more seconds. Five, four, three, two, ONE! Yes, I am gone.

Today had to have been the longest day ever. I could have sworn today was the day before the earth was going to go into nuclear war. I mean seriously who actually needs eleven 10 x 13 bullet proof windows?

Ah fresh air and--a homeless girl?

Deciding to be a nice person I went to go give her some change. Well that’s what I planned to do anyways.

“P-please, th-they’ll kill me if I don’t. D-don’t let them kill me. I- I have to, pl-please don’t let them find me. I want to be free.”