The Robbery

I searched for anything to snack on for the night, as I navigated my way down each aisle. I studied each snack like my life depended on it, since my family was coming over to my place.

It was rare for us to hang out like this, and even though we tended to get into arguments sometimes, I appreciated the moments I got with my siblings. I retrieved the last item from chip section, a bag of Hot Cheetos.

My favorite.

I made my way to the bored cashier. She was leaning on one hand, scrolling through her phone. From the reflection in her glasses, I could tell she was on Instagram. I didn’t blame her. No one would take a job seriously that pays you only $7.25. Or I think it’s now between $9 to $12.

I’m not exactly sure anymore. It’s not really my problem, but I tended to search up minimum wage jobs for the hell of it. I didn’t need a job, but sometimes I was curious to see where people worked as I realized I was truly one of the lucky ones growing up in a privileged lifestyle.

I placed the snacks in front of the cashier. She looked up from her phone, and her eyes went wide when she saw me. She put her phone face down on the counter, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was now a shy young woman, looking up at me, a small flirtatious smile on her face.

My siblings and I were born with good looks, but this was now becoming tedious at this point. I offered her my best smile, and she began to scan my items, and I could tell by her demeanor, that she was getting ready to ask if I was single, hinting that she was going to give me her number.

I would accept it, but I would never call her back.

Not because I was interested, but because she would run away screaming after the first date. I’m too boring. No one wants to date a nerd who teaches at a university. And I teach history. Who the hell would get turned on by real events that were pretty damn sick?

Sickos, that’s who.

The familiar ding of the convenience store door opening echoed in the building, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned around, not because I was interested in who walked in this late at night. I happened to turn around, because the sound of that familiar ding caught my attention.

I had learned this from one of my siblings. Apparently, some sounds make you want to turn your head in that direction, because your brain is responding to that sound. I could be wrong, but I honestly don’t care to remember. It was fucking boring, from what I do remember.

I’m contradicting myself for being a history nerd, but we all find something boring. It’s what makes us human, I guess. So, imagine my shock when I saw a guy dressed all in black, wielding a shotgun.

He strode up to me, pointing the weapon at my chest. The woman shrieked, and I heard her drop some of my snacks.

“Get the fuck out of the way,” he barked at me.

I got the fuck out of his way, and I stood to the side as he addressed the woman next. I grimaced when he acknowledged the woman in a disgusting way, his eyes studying her like she was a trophy for the high school spelling bee he was determined to win. He waved the gun at her.

“Empty the cash register and give me all of the money.”

He whipped out a bag from his pocket, as if by magic. I bit my lip to keep from laughing when I realized it was a small plastic bag.

A small plastic bag from HEB to be exact.

The asshole waved the bag at her.

“Open the fucking register, bitch.”

I cringed once again. This kind of stuff happened in the movies, but I didn’t think that these idiots actually spoke like that. It was embarrassing to be honest. Judging from the way he was standing; I could tell that he had no friends. His parents never paid attention to him his whole life, and every girl he ever dated dumped his ass.

He was tired of feeling like shit, and therefore, wanted to feel superior to whoever dared to mess with him. I’m not a psychologist, but one of my siblings definitely would have told me this in a matter-of-fact way, while making fun of this sorry piece of shit at the same time.

The poor woman fumbled opening up the register a couple of times, but was able to empty the entire thing to give up the funds to this dumbass. The woman then looked down, avoiding eye contact with the robber.

I instantly knew he was going to react to that. The guy smiled.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you. If it hadn’t been for this asshole here, I think I could have been real sweet to you in that back room.”

The woman whimpered, and she covered her mouth with a shaky hand. Her eyes looked in my direction, and I didn’t want to. I really did not want to, but my siblings told me I have always been the heroic one.

I snatched the gun from the robber’s hands. He stood there for a bit, staring at where his gun used to be. I opened up the shotgun, and emptied out the chamber. The guy looked at me for awhile, trying to figure out how I took his gun in a second.

And yes, it took one second. I counted.

The woman had wide eyes again, but it wasn’t from shock by how handsome I was this time around. I grabbed the guy by the neck, lifting him in the air. I took a quick peek at the cameras.

“Say, are those cameras working?”

“They…they never work,” the woman replied softly.

“I see. Please look away. And then press the button underneath the counter to call the cops. Lock yourself in the back room, and when the police show up, don’t bother to see what happened to this asshole. It won’t be pretty, and I don’t want you to freak out, and seek therapy for the rest of your life.”

The guy swung his legs, kicking out at my chest, he even punched me in the face a couple of times, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing this asshole could do to me would ever make me feel any shred of pain. The woman hesitated, but she complied and pressed the button. She ran straight into the back room, locking herself inside.

I dropped the shotgun, and ripped out the guy’s throat. He made strange sounds, and I let him fall out of my grasp. He landed on his back, blood shooting up. Some of it splattered on my clothes, and I groaned. I shouldn’t have worn a white T — shirt today. I dropped the piece of skin in my hand, and it made a squishy sound when it hit the floor.

I retrieved the bag from the idiot, and emptied out the money on the counter. I used the bag for my snacks. I was about to leave the store, but then I went back to the counter and took out $40 for the snacks. It was actually $38.69 in total, but the change didn’t matter to me.

I left a huge mess for whoever owned this convenience store, and I suppose that was my form of saying sorry for leaving a dead body behind.

I left the store, and got into my vehicle. I could now hear police sirens in the distance. I studied my reflection in the rearview mirror. Small spots of blood were on my face.

I was going to have quite a story to tell my siblings.

But it wouldn’t surprise them.

We were used to killing assholes.

I started the car, and drove away, wondering why convenience stores never bothered to fix their cameras.

Thank you for reading!

Emy Quinn