Robin J. Harrison

He stands at the cash register, bored out of his mind. The 3rd shift is really the slowest out of the three shifts he's worked at this convenience store. He's already cleaned the store twice, the coffee pots three times, and counted the cigarettes four times, all out of pure boredom.  Just as he decided to go out onto the floor again, this time to zone and front-face the store for the second time, someone came in, walking right up to the register. "Hi!" He put on his best customer service smile. "Welcome! What can I do for you?" He moved to the side so the customer could see the cigarettes, in case that's what he was looking for. A gun is placed on the counter. "I want all the money in the register." His blood ran cold. He began shaking.  He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir." His life was not worth the measly hundred he had in his register. He opened the register, keeping an eye on the gun and the man as he pulled out the cash. Af...

With my hands held behind my back and a knee keeping my on the ground, there isn't much I can do about the gun pointed to my head. The man in front of me reads from a book in a language he made up, one hand holding the book, the other holding the gun steadily between my eyes. I want to beg him to please don't kill me. Please don't pull the trigger. Please, just let me prove that I can still be useful. But my voice won't work. I'm not sure if it's because of his conditioning, or out of anxiety, but I can't speak to save my life. Literally. I can't believe I'm dying at 14. The book slams closed. The prayers over. He looks at me, nothing but hatred in his eyes. "May your next life treat you better than this one did."  He pulls back the hammer. "I'll find you again once you've reincarnated." His grip tightens. My mother and sister look away. I take a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. The door opens. "Hey! Is Lee home?...