# 5 True Family Dollar Horror Stories A Terrifying Night Shift Experience!

An episode of [AfterDark Reddits](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1896809423), 24 Oct 2026, 39 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/74987392/047_5_true_family_dollar_horror_stories_a_terrifying_night_shift_experience.mp3



## Transcript

[0:03] Speaker 1: I never thought I'd still be in Cloverdale by 24.
[0:06] Speaker 1: I always figured I'd leave after high school, maybe go
[0:09] Speaker 1: to college in the city, figure out what I was
[0:11] Speaker 1: good at. Instead, I'm still here, working shifts at Betty's
[0:16] Speaker 1: Diner six days, a week splitting rent on a duplex
[0:20] Speaker 1: that smells like mildew every time it rains and trying
[0:22] Speaker 1: to stretch every dollar until it rips. My car gave
[0:26] Speaker 1: out last month, just died one morning in the diner
[0:29] Speaker 1: parking lot. I had it towed to Earl's Garage, but
[0:32] Speaker 1: even Earl, who's generous when he's drunk, quoted me more
[0:35] Speaker 1: than I had in the bank. So now I walk. Everywhere.
[0:40] Speaker 1: To the diner. To the family dollar. To the laundromat.
[0:44] Speaker 1: Ten minutes here. Fifteen there. It's not the worst, but
[0:49] Speaker 1: it makes you feel small when people drive past you
[0:51] Speaker 1: with their windows up, pretending they don't see you. My
[0:55] Speaker 1: phone's been hanging on by a thread, too. Screen cracked.
[0:58] Speaker 1: Battery won't hold a charge. Shuts down every time I try.
[1:02] Speaker 1: To check my schedule. It's my only lifeline most days.
[1:06] Speaker 1: No landline, no car, no parents I talk to. Just
[1:09] Speaker 1: the phone. So when it started freezing up again last Thursday,
[1:14] Speaker 1: I decided to walk over to the family dollar to
[1:16] Speaker 1: get a new charger. Maybe it wasn't the battery, but
[1:20] Speaker 1: I figured it couldn't hurt. Derek was working that night.
[1:24] Speaker 1: Derek Boone. He's been around Cloverdale forever. Mid-thirties, always hanging
[1:29] Speaker 1: around that store like it's his territory. People say he's harmless,
[1:34] Speaker 1: but I never liked the way he watched women. He's
[1:37] Speaker 1: the kind of guy who stares a second too long,
[1:40] Speaker 1: talks just close enough to make you feel cornered. I
[1:43] Speaker 1: should have waited until someone else was working, but it
[1:46] Speaker 1: was getting late, and I had to be up for
[1:48] Speaker 1: the morning shift. I just wanted to buy a charger.
[1:52] Speaker 1: That's it. But Derek had other plans. I walked in
[1:55] Speaker 1: just before closing. The place was empty except for a
[1:58] Speaker 1: teenager browsing makeup and Derek. who was restocking dish soap
[2:02] Speaker 1: like he had all the time in the world. Hey, Lila,
[2:05] Speaker 1: he said, grinning like we were old friends. Heard about
[2:09] Speaker 1: your car trouble. Sucks, huh? I froze mid-step. I hadn't
[2:14] Speaker 1: told anyone at Family Dollar about my car. I hadn't
[2:17] Speaker 1: even told my boss until the morning after it happened. Yeah,
[2:21] Speaker 1: I said slowly. It's been a week. He dropped a
[2:25] Speaker 1: bottle of soap into the bin and wiped his hands
[2:27] Speaker 1: on his pants. You need a charger, right? I can help.
[2:30] Speaker 1: I don't know why I said yes, I think it
[2:32] Speaker 1: was just easier than saying no. He led me to
[2:35] Speaker 1: the electronics section, all two feet of it, and grabbed
[2:37] Speaker 1: a generic charger off the hook. Before I could stop him,
[2:41] Speaker 1: he held out his hand. Let me check your phone.
[2:44] Speaker 1: Make sure it's the right one. I hesitated, but handed
[2:47] Speaker 1: it over. He turned it over in his palm like
[2:49] Speaker 1: he was studying it, then tapped the screen. Swiped. Swiped again.
[2:54] Speaker 1: You've got a lot of pictures, he said, grinning. Cute dog.
[2:59] Speaker 1: That your place on Elm? My stomach turned. Give it back.
[3:04] Speaker 1: He held onto it a second too long before finally
[3:07] Speaker 1: handing it over. His fingers brushed mine and lingered. I
[3:11] Speaker 1: bought the charger without saying another word. The teen was gone.
[3:16] Speaker 1: The store felt hollow, like all the noise had been
[3:19] Speaker 1: sucked out. I left fast, almost, jogging down the sidewalk
[3:24] Speaker 1: back toward my duplex. That night around midnight, I got
[3:27] Speaker 1: a text from an unknown number. You left a receipt.
[3:30] Speaker 1: Uoimi 125 lol. I stared at the screen, heart thudding.
[3:34] Speaker 1: I blocked it. Five minutes later, a new number. Pretty
[3:38] Speaker 1: sure your diner closes at nine. You walking home alone.
[3:42] Speaker 1: I didn't sleep that night. I just sat in the
[3:44] Speaker 1: dark with my pepper spray in one hand and my
[3:47] Speaker 1: phone in the other, waiting for the next buzz. I
[3:50] Speaker 1: tried to shake it off the next morning. Told myself
[3:53] Speaker 1: it was probably some sick joke. Maybe someone at the
[3:56] Speaker 1: diner overheard me talking about Derek and thought they were
[3:58] Speaker 1: being funny. But then another message came the next day.
[4:02] Speaker 1: Different number again. You look tired. Long shift? Maybe you
[4:07] Speaker 1: need company. I hadn't posted anything. I hadn't even left
[4:11] Speaker 1: the house besides going to work. That meant someone was watching.
[4:15] Speaker 1: I changed my number that night. Paid $ 30 I didn't have,
[4:19] Speaker 1: but it didn't matter. The text stopped, but the feeling didn't.
[4:23] Speaker 1: Every time I walked home, I scanned the street behind me.
[4:26] Speaker 1: At work, I jumped whenever the doorbell chimed. The worst part?
[4:31] Speaker 1: I didn't know what to tell anyone. Betty, my boss,
[4:33] Speaker 1: already thought I was too jumpy. The last time I
[4:35] Speaker 1: brought up a weird customer, she laughed and said, Honey,
[4:39] Speaker 1: half the guys in here are weird. Pour their coffee
[4:41] Speaker 1: and move on. So, I did what I always did.
[4:45] Speaker 1: I kept going. A few days later, I had to
[4:47] Speaker 1: go back to Family Dollar. It was the only place
[4:50] Speaker 1: in town to get toothpaste and detergent unless I wanted
[4:53] Speaker 1: to walk 30 minutes to the gas station with marked
[4:55] Speaker 1: up prices. I waited until a new face was working. Sarah,
[5:00] Speaker 1: a high schooler I sort of knew from around town.
[5:03] Speaker 1: She barely looked up from her phone. I was in
[5:06] Speaker 1: the back aisle comparing generic laundry pods when I heard something.
[5:11] Speaker 1: A laugh. Low. Close. I turned, and there was Derek,
[5:16] Speaker 1: standing at the end of the aisle. Not saying anything,
[5:19] Speaker 1: just watching. I didn't wait. I left my basket, walked
[5:24] Speaker 1: straight out of the store, and didn't look back. I
[5:28] Speaker 1: never felt alone in that store, again. Even when I was.
[5:33] Speaker 1: It was a Tuesday night, maybe around 10. I'd just
[5:37] Speaker 1: gotten home from work and was heating up leftover mac
[5:39] Speaker 1: and cheese when I heard the knock. But it wasn't
[5:42] Speaker 1: at the door. It was at the window. I froze.
[5:48] Speaker 1: I live in a ground floor, duplex with thin blinds
[5:51] Speaker 1: and thinner walls. My porch light flickers like something out
[5:54] Speaker 1: of a horror movie. I tiptoed to the living room,
[5:57] Speaker 1: careful not to make noise, and peeked through the blinds. Derek.
[6:01] Speaker 1: Standing there, inches from the glass. His breath fogging the pain.
[6:06] Speaker 1: I could see his greasy hair plastered to his forehead.
[6:10] Speaker 1: The red of his family dollar. Polo faded and dirty. Lila,
[6:13] Speaker 1: he whispered. You home? Just want to talk. I backed
[6:17] Speaker 1: away like he could hear my heart pounding. Called 911.
[6:20] Speaker 1: The dispatcher told me to stay on the line. I did.
[6:24] Speaker 1: Ten minutes felt like an hour. By the time the
[6:27] Speaker 1: police arrived, he was gone. But they found his boot
[6:30] Speaker 1: prints in the dirt under the window. A half-empty can
[6:34] Speaker 1: of Monster on my porch step. The cops didn't sound alarmed.
[6:38] Speaker 1: One of them actually chuckled and said, Probably just wanted
[6:42] Speaker 1: to ask you out. Bit intense, sure, but maybe he's
[6:45] Speaker 1: just lonely. They didn't even take a full report I
[6:48] Speaker 1: wanted to scream. But in Cloverdale, that's how it is.
[6:51] Speaker 1: People like Derek, they don't do harm, they just cross lines.
[6:55] Speaker 1: Girls like me. We're told to be careful, like it's
[6:58] Speaker 1: on us. Derek was fired a week later. Word got
[7:02] Speaker 1: around that a few other women had complained. One of
[7:05] Speaker 1: the high school cashiers said he'd been writing down their
[7:08] Speaker 1: work hours. Another said he followed her home in his
[7:11] Speaker 1: truck once. The cops searched his car. Found a notebook
[7:14] Speaker 1: with names, schedules, and addresses. Mine was circled in red.
[7:19] Speaker 1: That should have been the end, but it wasn't. My
[7:21] Speaker 1: landlord said I was bringing trouble to the building. Betty
[7:25] Speaker 1: cut my hours at the diner. Too much drama, she said.
[7:29] Speaker 1: Customers get nervous. So I moved. Spent my last $ 400
[7:33] Speaker 1: on a deposit for a room above the hardware store
[7:36] Speaker 1: on the edge of town. It smells like sawdust and regret.
[7:40] Speaker 1: But the locks work. I bought pepper spray, deleted social media,
[7:44] Speaker 1: got a flip phone. But Family Dollar is still the
[7:47] Speaker 1: only store in town. And Cloverdale's the kind of place
[7:50] Speaker 1: where shadows stretch longer than they should. Especially in the aisles,
[7:54] Speaker 1: under the flickering lights, where the past waits like it
[7:57] Speaker 1: never left. And sometimes I still get texts from numbers
[8:00] Speaker 1: I don't recognize. I don't block them anymore. I just
[8:03] Speaker 1: don't answer. Baxter, Georgia isn't the kind of place you
[8:12] Speaker 1: move to. It's the kind of place you end up in.
[8:16] Speaker 1: I got here after my mom passed and left me
[8:18] Speaker 1: nothing but debt and a shoebox full of expired grocery coupons.
[8:22] Speaker 1: The rent was cheap, and I found work fast. Enough
[8:25] Speaker 1: at Pinecrest Rehab Center. 13-hour shifts wiping down beds and
[8:29] Speaker 1: changing linens for folks too broken to move. I make $ 14. 50
[8:34] Speaker 1: an hour. Barely enough to live. Definitely not enough to save.
[8:39] Speaker 1: I drive a 2007 Honda Civic that rattles when it
[8:42] Speaker 1: turns and drinks oil like it's on a bender. I
[8:46] Speaker 1: park it in the cracked lot behind my apartment building
[8:48] Speaker 1: and pray it'll start the next day. I skip groceries
[8:52] Speaker 1: when I have to, patch my sneakers with duct tape
[8:54] Speaker 1: and buy almost everything from Family Dollar. Ramen, toothpaste, socks, ibuprofen.
[8:59] Speaker 1: Not because I want to, but because it's open late
[9:02] Speaker 1: and nothing else is. The lights hum. The aisles are crooked.
[9:07] Speaker 1: The freezer buzzes loud enough to drown your thoughts. And
[9:10] Speaker 1: that's where I first saw her. It was late November.
[9:14] Speaker 1: The kind of bone-deep cold that gets under your scrubs
[9:17] Speaker 1: and stays there. I stopped in after work to grab
[9:20] Speaker 1: pain meds and one of those microwavable meatloafs that taste
[9:23] Speaker 1: like regret. I was half asleep, staring at the freezer door,
[9:28] Speaker 1: when I felt it. That weird itch on the back
[9:31] Speaker 1: of your neck. The sense you're not alone. She was
[9:35] Speaker 1: just there. Standing near the clearance rack like she'd been
[9:39] Speaker 1: placed there by mistake. Floral dress that looked like it
[9:43] Speaker 1: had seen the 90s. Frizzy gray curls. Eyes too wide.
[9:48] Speaker 1: She didn't blink. just stared at me like I owed
[9:51] Speaker 1: her something. I moved past her, didn't say a word.
[9:55] Speaker 1: At checkout, she got in line behind me, stood way
[9:57] Speaker 1: too close. I could smell her. Old coffee, something sour underneath.
[10:03] Speaker 1: You always buy the same things, she said, nodding at
[10:05] Speaker 1: my basket. Microwave meals, lonely, huh? I laughed, polite, automatic,
[10:12] Speaker 1: and paid in cash. I left quick. But just as
[10:16] Speaker 1: I stepped into the parking lot, I caught it. The
[10:20] Speaker 1: glint of her phone pointed at me. Click. Three days later,
[10:25] Speaker 1: I needed detergent. I thought about skipping Family Dollar, maybe
[10:29] Speaker 1: hitting up the overpriced gas station across town. But I'd
[10:33] Speaker 1: just paid rent, and quarters were a luxury now. So
[10:37] Speaker 1: I went back. She was there, same dress, same spot,
[10:40] Speaker 1: near the clearance bin, like she'd never left, like she
[10:42] Speaker 1: was waiting. Back so soon, she said, smiling like we
[10:46] Speaker 1: were old friends. Her teeth looked too straight like she'd
[10:49] Speaker 1: borrowed someone else's smile. You work nights, don't you? I
[10:53] Speaker 1: see you walking to your car, pretty brave, all alone.
[10:57] Speaker 1: I felt my grip tighten around the handle of my
[10:59] Speaker 1: shopping basket. What's your name? I asked. She tilted her head.
[11:05] Speaker 1: I think you already know. That's when I asked her
[11:08] Speaker 1: straight out. Why are you taking pictures of me? She
[11:12] Speaker 1: blinked all doe-eyed innocence. Pictures? Pictures? Honey, you're imagining things.
[11:18] Speaker 1: When I checked out, I asked the cashier, some kid
[11:21] Speaker 1: with pink hair and half-lidded eyes, if the woman worked there. Nah,
[11:26] Speaker 1: they said. She's just... around. I asked if anyone had
[11:31] Speaker 1: ever complained. They shrugged. She don't steal. Just weird. Just weird.
[11:38] Speaker 1: That's what people say when they want to ignore something uncomfortable.
[11:41] Speaker 1: Just weird. Just lonely. Just old. But when I got
[11:46] Speaker 1: home and checked my social media, I noticed something new.
[11:50] Speaker 1: A follower with no profile picture, no posts. Just a
[11:53] Speaker 1: blank name and an account created this week. Still, no
[11:56] Speaker 1: one believed me when I told them at work. My
[11:59] Speaker 1: friend Chandra rolled her eyes and said, Creepy? Sure. But
[12:04] Speaker 1: what's she gonna do? Smile you to death? I laughed
[12:07] Speaker 1: with her. But later, on my lunch break, I checked
[12:11] Speaker 1: the parking lot from the break room window. Just in case.
[12:15] Speaker 1: That night I dreamed I was in the freezer aisle again,
[12:18] Speaker 1: except the lights were off and I couldn't move. I
[12:21] Speaker 1: could hear the freezer buzzing, and breathing, close. The first
[12:27] Speaker 1: time I saw her outside the store was a Tuesday.
[12:29] Speaker 1: I had just finished a double shift. My back was aching,
[12:32] Speaker 1: my feet were numb, and all I wanted was to
[12:34] Speaker 1: pass out with a heating pad and a cheap dinner.
[12:37] Speaker 1: As I crossed the lot to my car I saw her,
[12:39] Speaker 1: leaning against my Honda like she owned it. Nice car,
[12:43] Speaker 1: she said, her voice casual. easy to find in a lot.
[12:48] Speaker 1: I stopped short, clutched my keys in my hand. So
[12:51] Speaker 1: the metal stuck out between my fingers, just like my
[12:54] Speaker 1: cousin taught me after her bad breakup, my mouth went dry.
[12:58] Speaker 1: You need to leave. I said, trying to sound firm.
[13:01] Speaker 1: She smiled like I'd told her a joke. We're both
[13:04] Speaker 1: regulars here. Small world, huh? She raised her phone click.
[13:10] Speaker 1: I didn't respond. I unlocked the car, slid in, locked
[13:15] Speaker 1: the doors, My hands were shaking so bad I dropped
[13:18] Speaker 1: the keys between the seats. She stood there, just watching,
[13:22] Speaker 1: not moving. I started the car. Peeled out of the
[13:26] Speaker 1: lot fast enough that my tires screeched. Didn't care if
[13:29] Speaker 1: she watched me speed away. At home, I double-locked the
[13:32] Speaker 1: door and pulled the curtains shut. Then I sat on
[13:35] Speaker 1: the floor and cried for the first time in months.
[13:38] Speaker 1: Not because I was scared, though I was, but because
[13:42] Speaker 1: I knew nothing was going to be done. She hadn't
[13:45] Speaker 1: touched me, She hadn't said she'd hurt me. She was
[13:48] Speaker 1: just around, always around. I tried not to think about
[13:53] Speaker 1: how she knew my car, how she knew I worked nights,
[13:56] Speaker 1: how she was always there when I was. I took
[13:59] Speaker 1: the bus to work the next two days. It added
[14:02] Speaker 1: 45 minutes to my commute, but I didn't care. Still,
[14:06] Speaker 1: every time I passed a family dollar, I felt her eyes,
[14:09] Speaker 1: even if I couldn't see her. I went to the
[14:11] Speaker 1: police the next day. took the bus to the precinct
[14:14] Speaker 1: on Main Street and waited 45 minutes for someone to
[14:17] Speaker 1: see me. I showed them the photos on my phone.
[14:20] Speaker 1: Blurry shots of Janine near my car. Screenshots of the
[14:24] Speaker 1: anonymous Instagram follower. Told them everything she said. Everything she did.
[14:31] Speaker 1: The officer, middle-aged, tired eyes, coffee stain on his shirt,
[14:35] Speaker 1: nodded along. But I could tell he'd already made up
[14:38] Speaker 1: his mind. Ma'am, I'm not seeing any threats here. She's
[14:43] Speaker 1: following me, I said. She's taking pictures of me, he sighed.
[14:50] Speaker 1: Does she say anything threatening? Ever touch you? Make any
[14:53] Speaker 1: direct statements of harm? No, I admitted. But she's always there.
[14:59] Speaker 1: Another officer, younger, leaned over his desk. Is it the
[15:02] Speaker 1: woman in the flower dress? Janine Whitmore? I nodded. Oh,
[15:07] Speaker 1: he said, leaning back. Yeah, she's harmless. Lost her son.
[15:12] Speaker 1: years ago. Mental health issues, probably. Just watches people now.
[15:18] Speaker 1: That made it worse. She was grieving, maybe broken, but
[15:22] Speaker 1: I wasn't a replacement. I wasn't a thing to observe.
[15:26] Speaker 1: I was a person. A person scared to go buy shampoo.
[15:30] Speaker 1: Unless she commits a crime, the first officer said, there's
[15:32] Speaker 1: not much we can do, but we'll keep your report
[15:35] Speaker 1: on file. I left with a copy of the report
[15:38] Speaker 1: and a heavier chest. That night I took the long
[15:42] Speaker 1: way home Checked my rearview mirror the whole time and
[15:45] Speaker 1: the worst part? A small ugly voice in my head whispered,
[15:48] Speaker 1: What if no one ever believes you until it's too late?
[15:52] Speaker 1: Now I avoid Family Dollar. I drive 10 extra minutes
[15:55] Speaker 1: to the overpriced CVS on the edge of town. I
[15:58] Speaker 1: wear my hair up and switch my shifts when I can.
[16:02] Speaker 1: I deleted my social media. Put tape over my laptop camera.
[16:06] Speaker 1: Bought a personal alarm from Amazon. I'm tired. Always tired. Hyper-aware.
[16:13] Speaker 1: Can't afford therapy. Can't afford a better apartment. Can't afford
[16:18] Speaker 1: to leave. The other night I found a photo taped
[16:21] Speaker 1: to my windshield. It was of me, standing in aisle three,
[16:25] Speaker 1: holding a can of soup. No note. No number. Just
[16:30] Speaker 1: the picture. I reported it. Again. The cops were polite,
[16:35] Speaker 1: but nothing changed. My friends have stopped asking how I'm doing.
[16:40] Speaker 1: My boss said I need to focus more at work.
[16:43] Speaker 1: People notice when you're off your game, he said. They
[16:46] Speaker 1: don't get it. They don't see how someone like Janine
[16:48] Speaker 1: doesn't need to hurt you physically to ruin your life.
[16:51] Speaker 1: All she has to do is exist in your space,
[16:55] Speaker 1: in your habits, in your peace of mind. I've learned
[16:58] Speaker 1: how to check my backseat in one motion, how to
[17:01] Speaker 1: keep my keys between my fingers, how to keep my
[17:03] Speaker 1: head down. But every so often, I pass by Family Dollar,
[17:08] Speaker 1: and I see her in the window. In aisle three,
[17:12] Speaker 1: smiling waiting and i know she'll always find me i've
[17:24] Speaker 1: never been one for long drives but when you're broke
[17:27] Speaker 1: and chasing a job that might finally stop the collection
[17:29] Speaker 1: calls you'll put up with sore legs and static radio
[17:33] Speaker 1: i was headed from biloxi to shreveport to work on
[17:36] Speaker 1: a busted refrigeration unit for a seafood company under the
[17:40] Speaker 1: table kind of work but better than starving The guy
[17:43] Speaker 1: promised cash, enough to pay off my truck note, maybe
[17:46] Speaker 1: even get a head for once. I left late, around
[17:50] Speaker 1: 10pm trying to make it through the night without paying
[17:53] Speaker 1: for a motel. My 98 Chevy Silverado coughed the whole way,
[17:57] Speaker 1: the transmission whining like an old dog. Somewhere past Baton Rouge,
[18:02] Speaker 1: my signal vanished, and so did the streetlights. It was
[18:06] Speaker 1: nothing but black pine trees and two-lane highway for miles.
[18:10] Speaker 1: Then the caffeine wore off. That's when I saw it.
[18:14] Speaker 1: A pale glow in the distance. A busted-up family dollar,
[18:18] Speaker 1: half-lit and listing like a drunk sailor. The parking lot
[18:21] Speaker 1: was cracked concrete, puddled with swampy rainwater. Overhead, a flickering
[18:27] Speaker 1: Exxon sign buzzed like a gnat in my ear. It
[18:30] Speaker 1: was 2.17am when I pulled in. I remember that number clearly.
[18:35] Speaker 1: It felt like a timestamp burned into my nerves. The
[18:38] Speaker 1: store was dark, but the bathrooms were in a side building.
[18:42] Speaker 1: There was a vending machine humming outside like it still
[18:44] Speaker 1: had something cold in it. I figured I'd take a piss,
[18:47] Speaker 1: grab a soda, and hit the road again. Then I
[18:50] Speaker 1: saw it. A rusted early 2000s Chevy Impala. Paint flaking
[18:54] Speaker 1: like old skin. It was parked. Just a foot from
[18:57] Speaker 1: my passenger door. Engine off. One door hanging open like
[19:01] Speaker 1: a mouth mid-scream. No one inside. I should have left
[19:04] Speaker 1: right then. Should have backed out, turned around, and kept driving.
[19:08] Speaker 1: But I had to piss and my dumbass thought maybe
[19:10] Speaker 1: someone just forgot to shut the door. Inside the... bathroom.
[19:16] Speaker 1: It stank of mildew and bleach. The kind of place
[19:19] Speaker 1: that makes you hover over the seat. The door didn't lock.
[19:23] Speaker 1: Not really. Someone had carved, you next into the stall
[19:27] Speaker 1: wall with something sharp. I remember thinking, what the hell
[19:32] Speaker 1: kind of place is this? I was zipping up when
[19:34] Speaker 1: the door creaked open behind me. Wallet. Phone. Keys. I
[19:40] Speaker 1: didn't even need to turn. voice was flat dead and
[19:45] Speaker 1: deliberate like someone ordering from a diner menu I glanced
[19:49] Speaker 1: back and saw a man standing in the doorway, half
[19:52] Speaker 1: lit by the yellowed hallway bulb. He was built like
[19:55] Speaker 1: a freezer, thick shoulders, a belly hardened by labor, not laziness.
[20:00] Speaker 1: His saint's cap was tilted low, stained with oil and
[20:03] Speaker 1: God knows what else. He held a. 45 like it
[20:07] Speaker 1: wasn't his first time, pointing it at someone I froze. Aight, man,
[20:11] Speaker 1: take it. I emptied my pockets slow, no sudden moves. Wallet, phone,
[20:16] Speaker 1: and keys all hit the grimy tile. I raised my
[20:19] Speaker 1: hands and backed toward the wall, trying not to make
[20:21] Speaker 1: eye contact. Outside. The gun didn't waver as he motioned
[20:26] Speaker 1: toward the side exit. I went. What else could I do?
[20:30] Speaker 1: My heart was tap dancing in my chest. I kept
[20:33] Speaker 1: telling myself, maybe he'll take my truck and leave. That's
[20:37] Speaker 1: all he wants. But I was wrong. Outside, the air
[20:41] Speaker 1: was thick with the kind of southern humidity that clings
[20:43] Speaker 1: to your bones. The woods weren't really woods, just a
[20:47] Speaker 1: mess of overgrown kudzu, soda cans, and half-burnt fast food bags.
[20:53] Speaker 1: The family. Dollar behind me looked abandoned. He led me
[20:57] Speaker 1: past the edge of the light. Then he kicked my
[20:59] Speaker 1: knees out. I hit the dirt with a grunt. My
[21:03] Speaker 1: chin scraped something sharp, probably a beer bottle or busted
[21:07] Speaker 1: taillight glass. I lay there face down, breathing, heavy, head down.
[21:15] Speaker 1: I knew what came next. My whole life flashed before me,
[21:18] Speaker 1: but not the way people say. It was more like shame.
[21:22] Speaker 1: All the calls I ignored, the jobs I didn't take,
[21:24] Speaker 1: the arguments I started for no reason. My mom's voice
[21:28] Speaker 1: from years ago saying, you keep pushing your luck, Jesse.
[21:32] Speaker 1: One day it's going to push back. I braced myself.
[21:36] Speaker 1: I expected pain. Instead, I heard it. Bang. Bang. Bang.
[21:43] Speaker 1: I didn't die. I remember that first breath after the shots. Shallow. Shaky.
[21:49] Speaker 1: My ears rang like fire alarms. My cheek was pressed
[21:53] Speaker 1: to the ground and I was sweating so hard it
[21:55] Speaker 1: felt like I pissed. Myself. Then the bastard laughed. This guttural,
[21:59] Speaker 1: mucus-filled smoker's chuckle that chilled me worse than the gun.
[22:03] Speaker 1: Bet you shit yourself, huh? He tossed my keys into
[22:06] Speaker 1: the dirt beside me. Not my wallet, not my phone.
[22:09] Speaker 1: Those were gone. The keys clinked against a rock and
[22:13] Speaker 1: landed just out of reach. Go home, dumbass. He walked off,
[22:18] Speaker 1: slow and loud, boots crunching through garbage. I didn't. Lift
[22:23] Speaker 1: my head until I heard his car engine. The Impala
[22:26] Speaker 1: peeled out, tires skidding on oil-stained pavement. I watched the
[22:29] Speaker 1: taillights disappear down Highway 71 like a pair of angry eyes.
[22:34] Speaker 1: For a minute, I just sat there. I couldn't get up.
[22:38] Speaker 1: Couldn't move. I was too wired on adrenaline, too damn
[22:42] Speaker 1: scared to believe it was over. When I finally stood,
[22:47] Speaker 1: my legs buckled like I'd run a marathon. I grabbed
[22:50] Speaker 1: my keys with shaky hands and made it back to
[22:52] Speaker 1: the truck. Climbed in. Locked every damn door. I didn't drive.
[22:58] Speaker 1: Not at first. I just sat in the dark cab,
[23:01] Speaker 1: parked under that busted Exxon sign trying to breathe. When
[23:05] Speaker 1: I finally turned the ignition, the engine sputtered to life
[23:08] Speaker 1: like it was scared too. I didn't go to Shreveport,
[23:11] Speaker 1: didn't even try to call the guy about the job.
[23:15] Speaker 1: With no phone and $ 40 lighter, I didn't have options.
[23:19] Speaker 1: I drove until I found a church lot, First Baptist
[23:22] Speaker 1: of Redwater. A light was on over the door and
[23:26] Speaker 1: something about it felt safe. I parked under it, grabbed
[23:29] Speaker 1: a tire iron from behind my seat and fell asleep
[23:32] Speaker 1: with it in my lap. Every time a car passed,
[23:35] Speaker 1: I woke up ready to swing. The next morning, I
[23:38] Speaker 1: tried the cops, Redwater PD was two desks, a coffee pot,
[23:43] Speaker 1: and a dude named Deputy. Harlan, who looked like he'd
[23:46] Speaker 1: rather be fishing. I told him everything about the bathroom,
[23:49] Speaker 1: the Impala, the shots, the gunman. He didn't even take
[23:52] Speaker 1: out a notepad. You got off easy, he muttered, packing
[23:57] Speaker 1: chewing tobacco into his cheek. Last guy they found back
[24:00] Speaker 1: there wasn't laughing. That was it. No report, no interest,
[24:03] Speaker 1: no follow-up. Just a shrug and a suggestion I stopped
[24:06] Speaker 1: parking in sketchy places. I drove off feeling more invisible
[24:10] Speaker 1: than before. Made it halfway to Shreveport. Before the truck
[24:14] Speaker 1: gave up. Dead on the shoulder, smoke curling from under
[24:17] Speaker 1: the hood. I sat in the cab for an hour
[24:20] Speaker 1: before a tow truck stopped. Guy charged me a hundred
[24:23] Speaker 1: just to tell me the radiator was cracked and the
[24:25] Speaker 1: engine block was toast. Couldn't pay. Couldn't call anyone. I
[24:29] Speaker 1: walked five miles to a Greyhound station and begged them
[24:32] Speaker 1: to let me use a landline. Called my girl, Sarah.
[24:36] Speaker 1: Told her what happened. She didn't even ask if I
[24:39] Speaker 1: was okay. Jesse, you attract drama. I can't keep doing this. Click.
[24:44] Speaker 1: I ended up sleeping behind a waffle house that night.
[24:47] Speaker 1: Woke up to some line cook kicking my boot and
[24:49] Speaker 1: telling me to move along. Bought a coffee with the
[24:52] Speaker 1: last few bucks in my back pocket. Stared at my
[24:54] Speaker 1: reflection in the dirty window and didn't recognize the guy
[24:57] Speaker 1: looking back. Bruised. Broke. Alone. That's when I realized the
[25:04] Speaker 1: scariest part wasn't the gun or the Impala or the
[25:06] Speaker 1: near death in the dirt. It was how easy it
[25:09] Speaker 1: all slipped away. Months have passed, but the fear stays.
[25:15] Speaker 1: I can't walk into a family dollar anymore, not even
[25:18] Speaker 1: in broad daylight. Something about those flickering lights and empty
[25:22] Speaker 1: aisles makes my skin crawl. Every time I see a
[25:25] Speaker 1: car idling too long outside, my hands go sweaty and
[25:28] Speaker 1: I start looking for exits. I moved in with my
[25:31] Speaker 1: cousin for a while, tried to get back on my feet,
[25:34] Speaker 1: picked up a job at a garage in Monroe, but
[25:36] Speaker 1: I don't drive far anymore. No more highways after dark,
[25:41] Speaker 1: no more roadside stops. And I never told anyone about
[25:44] Speaker 1: the license plate on that Impala because I saw it
[25:47] Speaker 1: clear as day, but I knew it was fake. And
[25:51] Speaker 1: I knew that if I reported it, it wouldn't matter
[25:54] Speaker 1: guys like him. They've done this before. They'll do it again.
[25:58] Speaker 1: And the people around here, they'll keep saying you got
[26:02] Speaker 1: off easy. Maybe I did, but easy. Ain't the same
[26:06] Speaker 1: as safe. And that last stop at Family Dollar? It's
[26:11] Speaker 1: the kind you don't come back from all the way.
[26:13] Speaker 1: Not really. I've been saving for this damn phone longer
[26:23] Speaker 1: than I care to admit. Six months. Six months of
[26:26] Speaker 1: taking extra shifts wiping old folks down at the nursing home,
[26:30] Speaker 1: eating off-brand noodles for lunch and dinner, skipping hair appointments,
[26:34] Speaker 1: and pretending. I didn't see my cracked screen bleeding colors
[26:37] Speaker 1: like a busted lip. My phone was more tape than tech.
[26:40] Speaker 1: Camera shattered, corner melted from some charger fire months back. Still,
[26:44] Speaker 1: I held onto it like it owed me rent. I
[26:47] Speaker 1: heard about the sale at Family Dollar from Facebook. The
[26:51] Speaker 1: Galaxy Ultra X, $ 200 flat, no contract, prepaid last year's
[26:57] Speaker 1: model but still fancy enough to flex. The post said,
[27:01] Speaker 1: only five in stock, first come, first served. In a
[27:05] Speaker 1: town like Cedar Fork, That's like tossing steak into a
[27:08] Speaker 1: lion cage. So I set my alarm for 4.45 a.m.,
[27:12] Speaker 1: pulled on my hoodie, stuffed my cash in my bra,
[27:15] Speaker 1: and got there by 5.30. Thought I was early. I wasn't.
[27:19] Speaker 1: Line already wrapped halfway down the strip mall. Teenagers with
[27:23] Speaker 1: Bluetooth speakers. A couple tired moms with camp chairs. One
[27:28] Speaker 1: dude with a thermos and a folding stool like he'd
[27:30] Speaker 1: trained for this. And resellers. You could smell them. Cheap cologne.
[27:34] Speaker 1: Vape breath. AirPods always in. I took my place behind
[27:39] Speaker 1: Miss Janie from work. We nodded, didn't need to talk much.
[27:43] Speaker 1: The sun hadn't even cracked the sky yet. Just that
[27:46] Speaker 1: sad pink glow on the horizon and a whiff of
[27:49] Speaker 1: bacon grease from the Waffle House two blocks over. That's
[27:52] Speaker 1: when I noticed him. The guy in the green hoodie.
[27:56] Speaker 1: He wasn't in line. Wasn't talking to nobody. Just pacing
[28:00] Speaker 1: near the soda machines, hands in his pockets. Hood pulled
[28:04] Speaker 1: low like he didn't want to be seen. but not
[28:06] Speaker 1: low enough to hide that he was watching. Watching us.
[28:10] Speaker 1: Watching the door. I shifted my weight and clutched my
[28:14] Speaker 1: little wad of cash tighter. Like maybe just holding it
[28:17] Speaker 1: harder would protect me from whatever the hell he was planning.
[28:20] Speaker 1: Around 7.15 the family dollar lights blinked on. You could
[28:24] Speaker 1: feel it ripple through the line. This hungry kind of hope.
[28:28] Speaker 1: People straightened up. Phones came out. The smokers flicked their
[28:32] Speaker 1: butts and stepped closer to the doors. That buzz started.
[28:36] Speaker 1: The kind that comes right before something messy. And, yeah,
[28:40] Speaker 1: it got messy. The clerk opened at 7.30 sharp and
[28:43] Speaker 1: she already looked over it. We got three phones, that's it.
[28:46] Speaker 1: Don't ask for more, don't ask for holds. Three. Not five. Three.
[28:53] Speaker 1: Folks started pushing. Loud voices. A lady near the front
[28:57] Speaker 1: said she was there first, but some skinny white boy
[29:00] Speaker 1: in a pelican's jersey swore he had her beat. Miss
[29:04] Speaker 1: Janie leaned over to me, her voice low. Last time
[29:07] Speaker 1: they had a sale like this, some boy got jumped
[29:09] Speaker 1: for his phone. Right outside. Broke his damn nose over
[29:12] Speaker 1: a screen protector. I blinked. For real? Dead serious. I
[29:18] Speaker 1: looked back. Green hoodie was gone. No clue where he went,
[29:22] Speaker 1: but that made it worse somehow. The line funneled inside
[29:26] Speaker 1: like a cattle drive. People grabbed baskets, started arguing about
[29:30] Speaker 1: placement in line. I clutched my cash like it was... gold.
[29:35] Speaker 1: walked quick but not too quick, tried to look like
[29:38] Speaker 1: I belonged. The clerk held up a stack of boxes.
[29:42] Speaker 1: Only got two left now. I moved fast. Slid past
[29:46] Speaker 1: a lady checking the cereal aisle and planted myself at
[29:48] Speaker 1: the checkout. Breath tight. Pulse. Screaming in my ears, I
[29:52] Speaker 1: got it, I said. Galaxy Ultra X. She stared at
[29:56] Speaker 1: my crumpled bills like they might bite her. counted slow
[30:00] Speaker 1: gave me the box like it was radioactive I tucked
[30:02] Speaker 1: it under my arm like a newborn didn't stop for
[30:05] Speaker 1: snacks didn't smile I just left because that's when I
[30:11] Speaker 1: saw him again green hoodie leaning on a busted old
[30:15] Speaker 1: Silverado arms crossed like he knew I'd come out eventually
[30:20] Speaker 1: the sky outside was bright now but it didn't feel
[30:22] Speaker 1: safe that family dollar lot it always looks tired like
[30:26] Speaker 1: something about it gave up a long time ago Cracks
[30:29] Speaker 1: in the pavement deep enough to twist your ankle. Potholes,
[30:33] Speaker 1: like sinkholes. A broken shopping cart on its side like
[30:36] Speaker 1: a body in a crime scene. And now him, hoodie guy,
[30:40] Speaker 1: leaning on the driver's side of a beat-up Silverado, hood
[30:43] Speaker 1: still up like it was waiting on a jump it
[30:45] Speaker 1: never got. I tucked the phone tighter under my arm
[30:49] Speaker 1: and speedwalked toward my car. Didn't look at him. Didn't
[30:53] Speaker 1: want to give him a reason, but I could feel
[30:55] Speaker 1: his eyes on me like fingers, cold and greedy. measuring
[30:59] Speaker 1: the box, my stride, my car. I popped the driver's
[31:04] Speaker 1: side lock before I even reached the door. Key between
[31:08] Speaker 1: my fingers the way my mama taught me. Didn't say
[31:11] Speaker 1: a word, just slid into the seat, locked it behind me,
[31:15] Speaker 1: and started the engine. That moment between turning the key
[31:19] Speaker 1: and hearing the engine catch, it's always slow when you're scared,
[31:22] Speaker 1: like the car's deciding whether to save you or leave you. Finally,
[31:25] Speaker 1: it turned over. I pulled out slow but steady Didn't
[31:29] Speaker 1: peel out. Didn't run. And hoodie guy? He didn't move.
[31:35] Speaker 1: Not an inch. Just watched. Me leave like he already
[31:38] Speaker 1: knew where I lived. I made it to the end
[31:41] Speaker 1: of the parking lot and let out a breath I
[31:42] Speaker 1: didn't even know I was holding. But I didn't relax.
[31:45] Speaker 1: Not really. Because even though he didn't follow, it felt
[31:50] Speaker 1: like he did. Back home, I locked the door, sat
[31:55] Speaker 1: on the couch, and just stared at the box. Shiny. New. untouched.
[32:00] Speaker 1: I should have been proud, should have been smiling. Instead,
[32:05] Speaker 1: my hands were still shaking. I didn't even want to
[32:08] Speaker 1: open it. I kept picturing that hoodie, that Silverado, those eyes.
[32:14] Speaker 1: I finally peeled the seal, pulled the phone out slow
[32:17] Speaker 1: like it might explode, plugged it in, watched the screen
[32:20] Speaker 1: flicker to life, bright, beautiful, smooth, and I hated it
[32:24] Speaker 1: because now came the real part. My little brother saw
[32:28] Speaker 1: it and said, Let me use it real quick. I
[32:32] Speaker 1: said no. He sulked. Next thing I know, he's telling.
[32:37] Speaker 1: Our mama, I'm selfish that I don't share. My boss
[32:40] Speaker 1: at the home health agency called to say I was
[32:42] Speaker 1: getting docked for missing my 8 a.m. shift. I explained
[32:46] Speaker 1: the phone thing. He didn't care. It ain't our job
[32:49] Speaker 1: to wait on you. And the worst part? I didn't
[32:53] Speaker 1: feel safe carrying it. Every time I pulled it out
[32:56] Speaker 1: in public, I scanned the crowd. Every green hoodie looked
[32:59] Speaker 1: like a trap door. That phone cost me $ 200. But
[33:04] Speaker 1: it felt like it took more than that. It took
[33:06] Speaker 1: my peace. Cedar Fork's not the kind of place where
[33:10] Speaker 1: you get new stuff often. When you do, everyone sees it.
[33:13] Speaker 1: Everyone remembers. I should have felt good. Like I finally
[33:18] Speaker 1: had something that made me feel up to date, less poor,
[33:21] Speaker 1: less behind. But I just kept thinking, this phone ain't
[33:24] Speaker 1: worth dying over. Too bad where I'm from, it kind
[33:27] Speaker 1: of is. That Galaxy Ultra X might not be the
[33:30] Speaker 1: newest anymore, but it's clean, fast, good camera. I still
[33:34] Speaker 1: don't use it unless I'm inside. And I still check
[33:38] Speaker 1: over my shoulder when I do. Family dollar don't carry insurance.
[33:42] Speaker 1: Life and cedar fork don't either. But I kept the box.
[33:46] Speaker 1: Tucked it in my closet like a trophy. Like proof
[33:49] Speaker 1: I earned something the hard way. Even if I never
[33:53] Speaker 1: stop watching for green hoodies. I took the night shift
[34:01] Speaker 1: at Family Dollar because it was the only place still
[34:04] Speaker 1: hiring in Redemption, Alabama. Place runs 24-7, but nobody wants
[34:08] Speaker 1: the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. slot. I didn't either.
[34:12] Speaker 1: But when your daddy leaves behind hospital bills and you're
[34:15] Speaker 1: eight months clean from pills, you don't ask for daylight.
[34:18] Speaker 1: The store sits off Route 9 next to a gas
[34:20] Speaker 1: station that's always closed when it says it's open. The A.C.
[34:24] Speaker 1: barely works. The lights hum loud enough to give you
[34:26] Speaker 1: a headache and the floors stay sticky no matter how
[34:28] Speaker 1: often we mop. But it's a job. Trey worked stock, 19,
[34:33] Speaker 1: barely out of high school. Always talking about how he'd
[34:36] Speaker 1: move to Mobile or Houston once his baby came. Said
[34:40] Speaker 1: he didn't want to raise his kid here. LaShonda ran register.
[34:44] Speaker 1: Been there six years. Had two kids and a stare
[34:47] Speaker 1: that could freeze you. But she had a soft spot.
[34:50] Speaker 1: Slipped coloring books into bags when she thought nobody saw.
[34:54] Speaker 1: Said kids need something. That ain't a screen. Halloween night
[34:58] Speaker 1: started slow. Two teenagers came in dressed like zombies, grabbed
[35:01] Speaker 1: a bag of off-brand candy. A trucker picked up chips
[35:05] Speaker 1: and an energy drink. I was in the back aisle,
[35:07] Speaker 1: lining up cans of soup when the door chimed. I
[35:10] Speaker 1: didn't see his face, just the hoodie and the way
[35:13] Speaker 1: he moved. Like he knew what he was there to do.
[35:16] Speaker 1: He didn't say a word. Just raised the gun and
[35:19] Speaker 1: shot LaShonda. Right at the register, no warning, no yelling.
[35:24] Speaker 1: Trey shouted, tried to jump the counter, took the second
[35:27] Speaker 1: shot right in the chest. I froze. All I could
[35:30] Speaker 1: hear was the buzzing lights, the ringing in my ears,
[35:32] Speaker 1: the wet sound of someone gasping. I dropped behind the counter,
[35:36] Speaker 1: heart thudding so loud it felt like it had burst.
[35:40] Speaker 1: I didn't move, didn't breathe, just laid there next to
[35:43] Speaker 1: a box of scratch-off tickets and expired beef jerky. Then silence.
[35:48] Speaker 1: Then the bell over the door. When I finally stood up,
[35:51] Speaker 1: he was gone. Just disappeared into the dark. LaShonda was
[35:55] Speaker 1: barely breathing. Trey wasn't. The cops showed up quick, but
[35:59] Speaker 1: it didn't help. Cameras hadn't worked since July. No one
[36:03] Speaker 1: stuck around. The teenagers ran. The trucker was halfway down
[36:07] Speaker 1: the highway by then. No witnesses. No license plates. No answers.
[36:13] Speaker 1: LaShonda died in the ambulance. I heard one of the
[36:16] Speaker 1: EMTs say it like he was reading the weather. Time
[36:19] Speaker 1: of death, 12.36 a.m. Two days later, there was a
[36:23] Speaker 1: Now Hiring sign in the window. Trey's girl screamed at
[36:26] Speaker 1: me at the funeral. You just stood there. You let
[36:29] Speaker 1: him die. I didn't have anything to say. What was
[36:33] Speaker 1: I supposed to do? I didn't have a gun. Didn't
[36:38] Speaker 1: even have a flashlight. LaShonda's kids didn't talk. Just sat
[36:43] Speaker 1: there in two big dress shoes and church clothes that
[36:45] Speaker 1: didn't fit. The town talked, like it always does. Some
[36:50] Speaker 1: said it was a robbery gone wrong. Others said I
[36:52] Speaker 1: was in on it because of my past. One guy
[36:55] Speaker 1: at church asked me if I owed someone money. I
[36:58] Speaker 1: stopped going after that. I started writing in a little
[37:01] Speaker 1: notebook I keep under my seat. Not poetry or nothing
[37:04] Speaker 1: like that. Just facts. What I remember. Things no one
[37:09] Speaker 1: asked me about. Like how LaShonda told me that night
[37:12] Speaker 1: her daughter wanted to be a nurse. How Trey joked
[37:15] Speaker 1: that he'd name his kid Jamal after some NBA player.
[37:19] Speaker 1: Or how the shooter smelled like motor oil and cheap cologne.
[37:23] Speaker 1: Nobody asked. About those things. Maybe they don't matter. But
[37:27] Speaker 1: I write them anyway. Sometimes I sleep in my car
[37:30] Speaker 1: outside of town. Can't always stand the quiet in my apartment.
[37:34] Speaker 1: Every time the door chimes at work now, my hand
[37:36] Speaker 1: goes to my pocket. Got a box cutter on me
[37:39] Speaker 1: at all times. Ain't much, but it's something. They kept
[37:42] Speaker 1: the store open. Of course they did. People gotta buy
[37:46] Speaker 1: toilet paper and knock-off cereal, even. If blood got scrubbed
[37:49] Speaker 1: off the tile in aisle three, I'm still working. Can't quit.
[37:53] Speaker 1: Bills don't stop just cause your friends die. The new
[37:56] Speaker 1: cashier is some guy from over in Cottonwood. Doesn't talk much.
[38:00] Speaker 1: Every hoodie makes me flinch now. Every loud noise puts
[38:04] Speaker 1: me on edge. I told my mom I was fine.
[38:07] Speaker 1: She nodded like she didn't believe me, but we don't
[38:09] Speaker 1: talk about that stuff. Not here. I don't know who
[38:13] Speaker 1: he was. Maybe I never will. Maybe he's just another
[38:16] Speaker 1: ghost on the highway. But I think about him every night.
[38:20] Speaker 1: And I think about Trey and LaShonda. And how the
[38:22] Speaker 1: world keeps spinning, even when it probably shouldn't.

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