Worked to Death

MONDAY

“Nice of you to finally show,” Craig said as Miranda stowed her purse behind the register.

“Shut up, Craig,” Miranda fired back. “This wasn’t supposed to be my shift. I was scheduled to have the whole week off.”

“That’s right. But now you don’t and you're late,” Craig said condescendingly, squaring his tan sleeveless shoulders toward her and maintaining the position of the toothpick that occupied a permanent residence in the corner of his mouth.

“Hmm... well, Mr. Assistant Manager, you could complain to Phil about it and try to get me fired, but he’s paying me time and a half all week for agreeing to cover Erica’s shifts after her disappearing act. And if I do lose this job the only thing I will have lost will be my nonexistent dream of selling swimwear to lake tourists for the rest of my life.”

“Whatever. I’m out of here,” Craig huffed. “Oh, someone knocked down the sunglasses display and one of the changing rooms is locked from the inside.”

“Why didn’t you deal with them?” Miranda asked accusingly.

“Well they both happened in the last thirty minutes, during your shift, so they’re your problem.”

Miranda glared at him until the bell jingled and the door closed behind him.

After setting the sunglasses back in place a busy shift ensued. It wasn’t until after flipping the door sign to “CLOSED” and turning the lock that Miranda made her way to the three changing rooms in the back of the shop.

Sighing, she dropped first to her hands and knees, then flattened all the way to the ground to wiggle under the third door. The light was out which struck her as odd. She twisted the lock and pushed the door open, then she climbed on the bench and twisted the lightbulb in the recess above. The light flickered and Miranda saw herself in the mirror. It flickered again and in the mirror she saw a woman standing behind her. Miranda gasped and twisted around. There was no one there.

TUESDAY

“What?” Miranda asked. She hadn’t slept well and was having trouble concentrating on whatever stupid remarks Craig was making.

“I said, don’t forget to inventory the sandals and the changing room door is locked again.”

“Well, why didn’t you unlock it?” Miranda asked aggressively. The thought of going back in there after last night made her skin prickle.

“I’m too big to fit under the door,” Craig said matter-of-factly.

The shift passed slowly. After locking up, she crept to the back. The gaps below and above the door were dark again.

Miranda crawled in as she had done the night before. When she extended her hand to the lock the sensation of cold water sent a shock through her body. She reached out to steady herself against the wall and found it slippery with wetness too. The light flickered on of its own accord. The walls were glistening with water droplets. The word “DANGER” was scrawled across the mirror in what appeared to be blood. Then her eyes caught another fleck of red. One bloody toothpick on the bench.

WEDNESDAY

Miranda’s heart hammered as she crept into the dark changing room. The lock and walls were wet again. The light flickered on. There was a new word: “MURDERER”. And a heap of bloody toothpicks.

THURSDAY

“What are you doing?” Craig asked in bewilderment as Miranda dumped a bag full of the bloody toothpicks on the counter.

“No! What are you doing? Think this is funny, Craig?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been leaving these in the changing room as some kind of sick joke!”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Miranda. I haven’t been leaving you gifts of any variety. But that changing room is locked again, so have fun.” Craig smirked and walked out.

During her shift Miranda decided she would just ignore the changing room. Then Craig or whoever was messing with her would have no reason to keep up the joke. But after locking up she heard a thumping. She followed the sound to the changing rooms.

What could it be this time?

She took a shaky breath and slid herself under the door. Standing, she reached for the lock.

“Don’t!” said a familiar voice.

“Erica?”

The light flickered on. There was no Erica. There wasn’t anyone.

The thumping resounded and a palm materialized on the mirror. A form gradually filled in behind it.

Miranda’s eyes widened. How could this be? It didn’t make any sense. “Erica, is that you?”

Bloodshot eyes stared back at hers and Erica’s face in the mirror nodded.

“What’s going on?”

“He killed me, Miranda. Right here. He’s going to kill you too!”

Barely audible over her own heartbeats, Miranda heard the bells jingle.

A shadow appeared on the floor just outside the changing room.

“Miranda, are you in there?” called Craig.

Miranda fumbled her phone out of her back pocket and hit the emergency call button.

The door rattled as Craig slammed his weight against it.

“Come on out, Miranda!”

The shadow disappeared for a few seconds and then the door came crashing in, flinging Miranda back. Craig flew at her and grabbed her around the neck. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t breathe.

But then there was screaming. A scream so loud and piercing that Craig removed his hands from her throat to cover his ears. All at once the mirror exploded. Miranda blinked her eyes shut as shattered pieces whizzed by. None of them hit her but the same couldn’t be said for Craig. He stumbled back with bleeding cheeks and hands. Miranda didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the biggest shard within reach and lunged at Craig.

FRIDAY

“We found her,” the detective said. Miranda nodded. “Where?”

“The lake.”

“And Craig?” she whispered.

“He survived, but he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Miranda looked away. She could see the lake from the police station window and staring at its sereneness she quietly whispered, “Thank you.”

Author's Note: This was written for the first round of the 2024 NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge. My assignment included the following: Genre - Ghost Story, Location - A changing room, Object - A toothpick