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Shattered Lives

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If you had a second chance at life, would you take it? Would you take it even if it meant losing everything? Even it meant living for someone else? Fighting for your right for that chance. What would you do? I had that choice and I took it. Only after I realized what had to be lost and what had to be learned but that's for a later time. For now, let's go to where this all started.

A low beeping rang from the register as I rung out a well-dressed businesswoman.

“Have a nice day.” I monotonously remarked at the woman that stood before me and barely made eye contact as I handed her, her change.

“Thanks, you too,” she smiled at me as she quickly grabbed her coffee and walked out leaving the change in my sad excuse of a tip jar.

I let out a deep sigh and rested my chin on my hand. I pulled out my phone and started to play a game of Tetris. Occasionally I would text my equally bored sister in between rounds of block stacking. “God this place sucks.”

I guess this is the part where I give you a monologue right? Ok, but only because you asked for it. Hello and welcome to my boring average life. The back door quickly flung open as my burly manager barged in. Sweat laced his forehead and panic painted his face like a canvas. He quickly ran toward me in a frantic panic. He rubbed the scruff on his chin as he tried to collect and explain the situation to me.

“PLEASE HELP ME PERIDOT!!!” He screamed.

“With..?” I glanced up at him and paused the game on my phone. As I was saying, this is just a story of my boring average life. There's really nothing to me, I'm just a college dropout stuck working at a gas station for--

“I NEED TO PUT THESE ORDERS IN! AND!” my burly manager interrupted my thoughts once more. He started to hyperventilate as his panic turned into a full-blown panic attack. “The freakin’ machine broke, I need help troubleshooting it! Please help me!!!” he begged and interlaced his hands together.

“And what do you expect me to do Greg?” I remarked. I guess I can go over some basics in between my the pauses of panic. I’m Peridot Clark, A 24-year-old soon to be 25 College dropout. The burly sack of panic here is my manager Greg Universe. I don’t even think Universe is his real name but whatever. He's your typical gas station manager, with the balding hair, scruff, and beer belly. Despite this, however, he does have some muscle to him so I guess I could give him that.

“Well Peridot, didn't you go to a university for electrical...whatever?” He pointed at me and huffed.

“Electrical technician Greg we’ve been over this,” I sighed and became more uninterested as the unnecessary conversation droned on.

“Yeah, that didn't you get your degree?”

“I suppose if you want to call it that,” I scratched my cheek and glanced away. It wasn’t that big of a deal in my opinion.

“Come on now, A Bachelors is still freakin’ awesome!” he beamed a wide toothy smile at me, which quickly faded into his panic again. “Anyways I really need help!!”

“Ugh.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and pushed up my glasses. “Ok fine, what do you want me to do about the register then?” I shot him a dirty condescending glance. I really didn’t want to help him again that’ll be the 10th time this week I’ve had to help him with something tech related. Most of the time it was stupid mistakes his dumbass failed to catch on.

“Uhm,” he scratched his scruff. “Don’t worry about it for now? I just really need to get this done ASAP! It's more important than register!”

Okay, I guess inventory is more important than potentially having the store robbed, yep sounds legit okay, Greg. I pushed my glasses up once more getting more irritated and annoyed at him. I stared at him for a while before finally, I responded with a less than interested tone. “If you promise to stop yelling then yes, I’ll help you.”

“GREAT!” He boomed and shot me a thumbs up.

I groaned and followed him to the back room where I’m greeted with a rather questionable scene. “What on earth…” I trailed off as I stared at the error message that blinked on screen and the pile of receipts that were being printed. How he got his position as manager? Short answer: I have no clue.

“I don’t know what happened.” he crossed his arms and a low raspy sigh was let out. Almost a growl.

I poked the holo-screen for the receipts when I saw his mistake. I facepalmed at the sheer stupidity. “Uh, Greg.”

“Yeah? Did you figure it out?” he looked at me.

“Yeah, you put in 300 on this, so it's calculating for 300 units...of...Slim Jims. What the hell Greg?” I put my hand on my hip and shook my head in disbelief. No wonder I’m his go-to girl for this stuff. NO ONE could be this careless right?

“I didn’t do that! I scanned the barcode and it did this!!” he shouted and pointed at the scanner. I was wrong.

I started to fiddle with the screen and canceled the request he put in. I handed him the screen. “Here, just don’t push any more numbers please?” I groaned and started to walk out.

“I TRIED to push 30 for your info, Miss. Smartypants.” he puffed out his cheeks. I ignored his childish act and walked out the swinging door.

“Mhm...sure you did.” I sarcastically called back and rolled my eyes.

“Oh, Thanks!” He shouted from the back.

“Mhm.” I sighed and rubbed my temples. I still have a few more hours and I already have a migraine great. I took out my phone and continued to play Tetris. Now that the distraction is out of the way to let's retrace our steps. Inner monologue, introduction, about me. Following? Good. So here’s where I guess I put a flashback now.