Chelsea pushed some juice boxes onto the shelf, then knelt down and picked up a few more from the crate, aiming to fill the shelf entirely before moving on. It was late, and the store was empty. Polaris wasn't here, Xorlack hadn't come in, and Chelsea was, for the first time in a while, totally alone in the shop and it was kinda nice. She was enjoying the solitude for a change. She liked their company, certainly, but sometimes a person needs a little time to themselves.
As she shoved another few juice boxes onto the shelf, the lights flickered, and then went out. Chelsea groaned and turned, only to see one of the doors to the frozen aisle open up and a floaty figure slowly creep out. Chelsea bit her lip, trying not to scream, just as the lights came back to life, illuminating the figure, which she realized was now just a teenage girl. A dead teenage girl. A dead ghost teenage girl who just happened to look like a movie starlet from the 40s. "I'm sorry," the girl said, "I hope I didn't frighten you." "Takes a lot more than that to frighten me at this point," Chelsea replied. The ghost floated across the floor and over to the candy aisle, looking around. Chelsea finished her shelf work, then abandoned her post and headed to the same aisle, watching. "I don't see any Beaver Teeth, do you not carry that anymore?" the ghost girl asked. "Yeah, it's right there, below Acid Wash," Chelsea said, pointing, and the ghost girl squealed and grabbed a few bars. "It's amazing the things you miss when you're dead," the ghost girl said, "they say you get crazy cravings when you're pregnant, but death cravings I assume are even more intense." Chelsea smirked at this. At least the ghost wasn't going to kill her. Seemed like her night was still gonna be pretty good. Chelsea pushed her hands in her pants pockets and walked further into the aisle, also looking at the candy. "If you're dead, can you even eat it?" Chelsea asked. "Of course," the ghost girl replied, "Ghosts can do plenty of things people can do. It's just that you all assume we can't. If anything, we can do more than living people can do. The living just have such a high opinion of themselves they can't imagine the dead being capable of doing more than them. They see death as the end, not an extension." "Is it an extension?" Chelsea asked, genuinely curious. "I'm here, ain't I?" the girl said, making Chelsea laugh a little; the ghost girl smiled and added, "I'm Monica." "I'm Chelsea. It's nice to see another human," Chelsea said, "even if it is a dead one. So...how'd you die? And why are you haunting this store in particular?" "How I died is kind of a personal question, don't you think?" Monica responded, making Chelsea feel awkward for having asked; but she just smiled again and added, "I'm yankin' yer chain. It's not that personal. I actually was here before the store was. I was killed and buried on this property by the guys who murdered me. So, if you wanna get technical, it's like the shop is haunting me." "You were murdered?" Chelsea asked, grimacing, "geez, sorry." "It happens," Monica said, shrugging as she tore open one of the candy bars and started eating, "When you're dead, you don't really think about regrets anymore. I mean, some ghosts can't escape it, but most I've found have felt that none of what the living thinks matters, so why worry? At least if you're alive you can make some kind of gesture to fix those regrets sometimes, but when you're dead, it's done. It's over. You're finished. So why bother worrying, you know?" Chelsea nodded, thinking. Monica had a point. Chelsea did think about her regrets quite often, but she rarely if ever made any attempts to fix them. Chelsea pulled a bar from the rack herself and opened it, starting to eat. She'd since learned which things in the store, especially candy, were safe to eat and which would melt her insides. "I was worried at first that maybe you were going to possess me or something, you know, being a ghost and all," Chelsea said while chewing. "Why would I possess you? You work HERE. What would that gain me?" Monica asked, making Chelsea snort in laughter. "Hey, it's not so bad," Chelsea said, surprising even herself with this admittance, "I mean, I get a discount, I get to eat or drink whatever I want, I get paid, and I get to meet plenty of cool people. This world has a lot of interesting folks who stop by." "This world is relentlessly unforgiving," Monica said, "it's cold and it's cruel and it casts so many out without ever giving us a chance. It's dog eat dog here. Don't get me wrong, I'd never live or die anywhere else, but at the same time, I wonder if I made the right choice coming." "Are you not from this realm?" Chelsea asked. "I'm a human, or I was, now I'm a ghost, but you know what I mean," Monica said, popping another candy piece in her mouth and chewing, "I was a human, just like you. I found this place and it just seems like...like it was magical, you know? So different. So worth exploring. But the thing you don't learn until it's too late is how much it needs us, people like you and me, to continue running. Needs to feed off us. Our energy, our personhood." "Am I...am I in danger if I stay?" Chelsea asked. She'd long since questioned whether or not she was making a good decision, choosing to stay here, but she needed the job to pay for college. She sighed and scratched her forehead. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter," Chelsea said, "if my parents lose another kid, what's the difference." This got Monica's attention. She looked at Chelsea, raising an eyebrow, curious. "I had a little sister," Chelsea said, "...and when I say little, I mean little, she was only 4. I was 15 when my parents had her, so there was definitely an age gap. Not that that mattered, we were still best friends. Sometimes I think she was my only friend. Anyway, I failed to keep her safe, so why should I worry about my own safety? Besides, they'd be happy to be rid of me, considering what I did." "What'd you do?" Monica asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "....uh....I was...learning to drive," Chelsea said, "and uh...you know, student drivers, we're all really bad, but I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I was heading back to my house with my instructor, the test was over for the day, and uh...and I was certain I'd get my license anytime now. I had passed all the tests, written or otherwise, so. Anyway, I'm pulling up into the driveway and, ya know, my dad is there, and he sees me and he just...he stands there, staring, dead eyed. I'm like, confused, cause what's the problem, I'm just coming home from a test. Until I got out of the car. Until I saw her hand." Chelsea felt her stomach turning. She didn't want to revisit this. She hated even thinking about it. But...she pressed on. "I didn't see her, I couldn't...I couldn't have known. She was drawing with chalk, how could I...it was an accident, you know, and everyone knew that, it wasn't like I was put on trial or anything. But...but I couldn't help but feel like my parents hated me for it. Ever since then they've acted like they don't believe in anything I do being fruitful. Like I'm a waste of time and energy. So if this place eats me alive, literally or figuratively, then I guess it'll just be doing them a favor." A long moment passed in the shop, as the two girls stood there, quietly eating their candy bars. Finally, Monica coughed and spoke. "You know that isn't your fault, right? That's just what we call an act of god," Monica said. "I'm just saying that if you exist, if you tell me that death is an extension and not an end, then maybe she's not really gone," Chelsea said, wiping at her eyes, "you know? The world might be cruel and uncaring here, but it's that way in my world too, and that sucks but...knowing you haunt this place, maybe she haunts our home and I just can't see her." The bell over the door rang, and Chelsea went to help the customer. It was a woman with snakes in her hair, similar to Medusa, and she wanted a soda and a lottery ticket. Chelsea helped her check out, then turned her attention back to Monica, who was now sitting on the counter, or as close to sitting as a ghost could get. "I love it here," Chelsea said, leaning on the counter, chin on her fist, "like...nobody expects anything of me except to do my job, you know? I love it. It's great. It's weird and it's different and it's not where I'm from but I'm also not where I'm from, you know? I never felt like I fit in, especially after what I did, and this is the kind of place that makes me feel like that doesn't matter, and I belong somewhere at least. This place has wholeheartedly accepted me. Whether that's because it intends to kill me someday or not I don't know, nor do I care. I like it here. With the monsters and the ghosts." Monica smiled warmly. "Slipshade is a pretty great place," she said, "and Last Shop On The Left is the best example of that. Out there, we might fight and bicker and argue, be divided, but in here all that matters is our purchases. We put aside all our petty differences to buy our crappy cigarettes and energy drinks, even if only momentarily." Chelsea listened, but she didn't respond. That was the first time she'd talked openly about her sister before, or at least since the funeral. She tried never to tell anyone, mostly because she didn't want their pity. She didn't feel like she deserved it. No matter what her parents or even a psychologist might tell her, she couldn't shake the feeling that she felt single handedly responsible for her sisters death. Talking about it now, she felt a bit lighter, definitely, but not better. Chelsea rolled her head to face Monica and their eyes met. Monica smiled at her again, and Chelsea smiled back. Chelsea cleared her throat and wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve that she wore under her work vest. "Uh, I guess I just like the idea that somewhere out there, she's still here, eating candy bars," Chelsea said, "I recognize the two places aren't the same, so maybe the same rules don't apply, but this...I don't know, it brings me some sense of comfort." "That's what I hate about being a ghost. So many people just attribute us to abject terror, but we can bring so many other emotions out that they never even consider. I much prefer to bring peace and comfort to someone than scare them silly," Monica said, opening yet another candy bar and biting into it, adding while chewing, "Besides, in the long run, what'll you remember better? Something that scared you, or something that helped you?" Chelsea nodded. Monica wasn't wrong. "So you just haunt the store regularly, huh?" Chelsea asked. "Yep," Monica said, "Waited a while before I made my appearance tonight, had to make sure you were the right kind of person to show myself to. Some people don't deal with this sort of stuff well." "I believe it." The girls laughed, and it felt good to laugh. Chelsea hadn't laughed in years as much as she had while working here recently, and it was a nice thing to feel again. The girls talked some more, about the vanity of life, the banality of death, the mundane reality of both. After a while, Monica got tired, and said she should be heading back. As she gathered up a few things, taking them back to the freezer, she turned and looked at Chelsea. "If I see your sister," she said, "I'll tell her you said hi." Chelsea wanted to cry, but instead she just thanked her. A while after Monica left, the doors opened again, and Polaris finally came in. He approached the counter to find Chelsea sitting on a stool, eating more candy, reading a magazine. "You know, you eat too much of that, you'll get cavities, or worse, diabetes," Polaris said, "Course I think you have to have been pre-dispositioned to get it, but still." "I don't care," Chelsea said. "Yeah? And what, pray tell, gave way to this brazen attitude?" Polaris asked, lighting a cigar, as Chelsea looked up and smirked. "Life's too fuckin' short," she said.
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Chelsea Teages is trying to pay her way through college, and has taken a job as a cashier at a local convenience store that may or may not be in an alternate dimension. Archives
November 2022
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