I couldn't find anything exciting to do after my day shift at my normal work job at the local supermarket. I wanted to go home and crash on my bed in the bedroom I was working so much over the last few days, it was making me stressed out.
Don't get me wrong, I like my job as a stocker at the only grocery store in our small town in Different Place. I was beginning to feel like I didn't belong working there anymore.
The customers don't have any kind or caring things to say to me. I hated waking up early in the mornings, before six am, to get my day started. It took all of my energy to get myself dressed and prepared for work every day of the week.
It became something of a normal routine. I would wake up to my noisy alarm clock radio. Wake myself up, turn it off. Hop in the shower and get my uniform and name tag on.
I drove myself every day to the grocery store. But the more times I began my shift at the supermarket, the customers wouldn't even trust me to help them with their items.
They would give me dirty looks and complain to the manager Mrs. Hopper how bad my performance was. And send me home early, showing the customers disrespect.
I needed a break from the grocery store. I want out of there. I couldn't get myself to find anything better to do with my life. I knew it was going to get worse if I didn't find a purpose with myself. I need a plan to keep myself from going to dark places in my mind.
There was nothing I could think of a way out of my day job at the local grocery store in Different Place. Before I could feel exhausted and crash out on the bed in my room, at my small apartment, I got an email notification on my cellphone one night.
I thought the email was something to be ignored. But as I went over to check the message on my phone, somebody sent me another email from my cellphone again. From the same messenger.
Opening the email app on my phone, I read the strange email greeting addressed me: "To Andrew Wart: You are invited to come to a private book club meeting at your school library. And share your spooky story submission with the group. You have two weeks to prepare your writing assignment. I will be mailing you a special notebook in your mailbox. To help you bring your story ideas to life. The more creative you get with your spooky stories, the more powerful your imagination will take control over your talent. Welcome to the Sorcerer's Storyteller's Club, Andrew Wart! See you in two weeks!" I finished reading the email.
I couldn't believe I was actually invited to come to some book club meeting I never knew about! I read the email a couple more times. I guess I will have to be patient and wait for the special notebook to be mailed to my apartment address. So, I can start writing my story submission for the group meeting in a couple of weeks from now.
I remembered some things from high school in my English and drama class we got to read some interesting books from our wonderful English teacher, Mr. Hatchling. I wanted to write something really scary for the group. Something that will give them nightmares about it for weeks after reading my scary story.
The more I thought about the email invatation to a group storyteller's meeting, I couldn't be more excited to be a part of something to make a difference out of myself.
Horror stories don't really bother me. It's just all in your mind. I didn't know how many of us in the Sorcerer's Storyteller's Club there would be. But I hope they are friendly and hope we can become good friends.
Writing has always been my passion. I stopped writing because I thought people didn't care about reading and writing anymore. Only a few people left in the world understand storycraft and know it helps with positive feelings. And you can take story anywhere you want it to go.
I had to work at Gary's Grocery store tomorrow in the afternoon. It was going to the weekend, finally. That's when it's usually busy. I will just wait another week or so to get the special notebook for the Sorcerer's Storyteller's Club meeting and come up with some original horror stories to give the readers something to scream about.
As the sun was starting to settle and go down for the night on Friday in October, I couldn't stop thinking about the book club meeting at school in the library. I hoped it would give me a purpose and something to look forward to.
I realized I get more creative with story when it gets dark at night. That's when my mind is more at ease and I can think better. My senses are sharper and more alert. I wasn't looking forward going to work the next day. But I would do my best to give my greatest performance and make the customers happy and satisfied.
It was going to be a short shift tomorrow afternoon. I would go in around two p.m. And be finished by seven in the evening. I didn't want any of my coworkers or friends at work, know about the secret meeting with my book club in the school library I was invited to recently.
They probably wouldn't even care about my invatation to some boring old book club meeting. I didn't always know what to expect at work. I didn't know how the customers would treat me. I know I could be ugly back to them, just make them happy.
It wasn't until yesterday morning, I got another email notification from the librarian at the school. "To Andrew Wart: I can't wait for you to join us in the book club meeting after school in two weeks! I just mailed your special notebook in your mailbox. You should get it by next week. Get ready to share your storycraft ability with the group. You're going to be everybody's favorite horror writer. I know how much you take interests in the craft, but now it's going to make things interesting. See you soon!" I read the email in my phone app settings again.
I got myself ready to start my afternoon shift Gary's Grocery. I took my shower first thing in the morning. Got my uniform and name badge on. And walked out of my apartment the next day and headed to work.
I didn't bother any of the customers all afternoon. I just walked into the grocery store. Clocked my name badge in and went back to the employee's only section. Where the other night stock boys were unloading the packages on the truck to be worked on.
They didn't seem want me working with them here, today. They kept giving me dirty looks. There were four of us at the grocery store in Different Place.
Each employee gave me evil glares. They walked out of the back storage room. And left me to do the stocking truck unloading all by myself. This was not going to go my way. I was by myself and had to do everything all alone. The wasn't even a manager on the clock. And there were too many customers in the store.
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't unload the truck carts all by myself and check out the customers. I felt hopeless. I bend down to my knees in the storage room. Let out a dramatic scream of frustration. And passed out unconsciously on the ground, next to the cart trucks filled with storage packages to unload myself.
It must've been hours before anybody came to check on me, later in the evening. I found myself sitting down in a chair in the manager's office, holding an ice pack on my forehead. Drearily opening my eyes, I saw the crazy old manager woman staring at me in her office.
Mrs. Hopper had her hands propped on the desk, not taking her eyes off me. "Want to tell me why I haven't fired you yet, for your misbehavior attitude, young man?" she asked me, impolitely.
I didn't know how to respond. My head was still feeling woozy, and my forehead was throbbing. "I'm sorry for acting up," I said apologetically. "I've been under a lot of pressure these days, Mrs. Hopper," I said, honestly.
I knew I shouldn't get my manager to think I'm a bad employee. I really wanted to keep my day job as a stock boy. I knew how to do the job. And I didn't want to get anybody on the staff to think I'm better than everybody else. Hope Mrs. Hopper would give me another chance.