The first book I self-published on Amazon, Writing Time is about a young woman who dreams of something amazing happening in her dull life and finds often it is closer then you think, but it comes with some questions she has to answer about who she is as a person and how she stands up to things, or doesn’t when things get tough. Here is the first few pages worth here for you to read.

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I had just gotten the job, fun it was not, but a girl had to pay the bills. Like telling this story, it taught me something I never thought possible, even making me feel more than I ever did beforehand and telling you this. Although it may be very comforting if what my other friends say is true about what they understand so far. Still, it will be a happy day when this is done to know that the two of the most magical men exist somewhere out in the world.

Two years ago, when I had just got the job at the supermarket on the north side of town near the high school where all the places to hang out were. Being the newest person hired in the store, I did not get a set schedule from week to week, just told to be mornings one day or swing the next without any significant problems. Some days I would come in to suddenly be a cashier or stocker or even help the baking crew. Making sure to get there a little early whenever my shift started got me in the good graces of most people in power. Each shift had its own different set group of people who had been there longer because obviously tenure meant everything no matter where you worked. Being the floater, I usually worked the morning or the swing or some odd hours between both shifts. Individual shifts had their own little quirks with their own people in charge except for the assistant and store manager. This was a thought that made sense no matter where someone would choose to work.

We had a very small graveyard shift, one which suddenly took a vacation. No one wanted to cover it, and most did not want to approach the subject of who had to cover the shift. One of the assistant managers was a red-haired single mother who still could have rocked a runway. She was one of my closest allies then. Before she got pregnant, she made her way up as an amateur model without going to her head. Janine was her name. She also made sure that everyone called her by her first name to help with the “lines of communication, so the store does not turn into an asylum with uniforms.” Her words, not mine, but still it described her because she was just like me for the most part, stuck in a place she did not plan for.

Have you ever asked a question that later you wonder if you should have ever asked? Looking for an answer to any question was painful when that effort would highlight you as the answer to someone else’s problem. No one else wanted to cover the shift. The taboo seemed to extend past just talking about it, as I would soon find out. Being on one of my ten-minute breaks, I soon walked into the open door next to the walk-in. She usually would be at the desk with paperwork, calls, or just enjoying her day, which at some points was just the case. Trying to make conversation, though, I stepped into it.

One of the graveyard shifts had needed to take some time off with more than enough time in advance that it had to be given. Finding a replacement for the shift was difficult, but asking if anyone was found to cover it yet was the worst thing to say. Looking at the various work posters on the wall, she looked up at me, putting the question together with her thoughts to form the answer that worked best for her and the store.

“Actually, yes, I did. I was just finishing up the paperwork on it now.”

Reading the various corporate emails for various incidents, it was not until I saw her face with a smile on it that made me nervous. Trying to voice my concerns, she did the despicable something she so rarely did when she did it this time. No one could stop her. She described the situation, letting me know that my choice would not help because of her position. Painting the picture the best she could, there was a wage increase for working the graveyard shift; the other people had been working the shift for more than a year. No matter how odd they were, she told me they were still very good people, if a little strange. Deciding that pulling rank would not leave me any options, I spent the rest of my day glumly trying to wheedle what information possible out of anyone else. Some customers even heard me grumble about it behind the till, with one apologizing with a twenty-dollar tip that was definitely against the rules. Walking away from it fast enough that returning it was not going to happen, it soon found its new home in my pocket with a mixture of fear, apprehension, and joy.

Getting an extra twenty dollars was always something that cheered my day up. Except when someone felt sorry enough to do it only after hearing me grumble that soon I would be doing graveyard shifts for a whole month. Anything that made people pity me that much and did not fill me with the comfort that everything would be alright. Call it a girl’s intuition. It just did not feel right in the pit of my stomach. Ben and Jerry always made those feelings go away with the generous funding from the customer. Mulan would be my movie of choice to make the night an altogether warm and fuzzy affair, no matter how bad it would be.

Working to lunch was otherwise normal sans some cashier in the till next to mine giving me the whispers how everything will be fine paired with a look that made me think everything was a lie so that she would not get put in my place in case I were to drop dead. Closing down my station for lunch, the store was not as busy that someone needed to be on my till, which was great because I used to think it was weird when someone would use it only for me to get back to everything set up different. All of my co-workers that I once asked as I walked back gave me the look of selfless pity. The small girl inside my head was bouncing up and down on the imaginary couch, hoping we didn’t get murdered by robbers, gang bangers, or vampires. It may be rare that those things may happen. It was just scary to think of it, no matter how impossible it may be. One of the lifers may have either noticed my growing state of unwarranted panic or just heard what I was in for.

He had white hair defined with black streaks paired with a face of many years. Acting on the balls of his feet walking to my table made him seem young while being old in some version of kid never growing up or adult who found it is much more fun to act like a young kid sometimes. In either case, having someone talk to me then was good. Robin was one of the lifers out of the deli department who had eyes like an old professor who loved tricking students who fell to sleep in class.

“So nervous?”

Shaking my head from ceiling to floor hard enough to rattle my fillings it was still painted with my scared little mini-me now in the fetal position on the little cushion. Then, wondering how long it would take before my form could match the little girl, he gave me some information that only put the vampire fears to bed.

“Here is what I can tell you. When you work with Jake, you will think he is just another addict or some goth. Paul is another game entirely, but they are good at what they do when they work together. When you work with them, they can change how you look at things. Both have a lot of life experience despite their ages. Just treat them well, and you will do just fine.”

Listening to him say that made me feel like nothing would happen because he looked like he had been around a little bit. Squinting to read the name tag on his shirt.

“Isn’t that a girl’s name?” I asked, already falling victim to the seemingly capable aura of friendliness he gave off.

He did not take any insult as he answered with the same half-grin as he pulled his lunch from under the table before beginning to dig into cheeseburger hamburger helper.

“Yup, it is an odd name for a male, but that’s what my parents gave me. Shrugging defense, I couldn’t help but return his smile.

Picking up my own used lunch bag the day seemed just bright enough that everything would be OK. I was walking out the swinging doors back into the main store past the avocado and vegetables. Mothers with children peppered picking produce for meals while one pulled a young daughter from the tomatoes trying not to get her blouse stained with one of the Spanish reds—the rest of the day from the till went by with the only problem of a short-tempered customer.

Not many people work on the night shift, so it was challenging to think how many people got this knowledge of their reputation. The other assistant manager does it sometimes he has not had any problems. He was out on a hunting trip, so he’s coming back to save her was not going to happen unless something on par with your global miracle. He hadn’t gotten a problem working with the shift directly. The thoughts are trying to figure it all. It just spun like a merry-go-round. No answers were to be calculated until later, so the best option was to just enjoy the extra dollar per hour while I could get it. Working all night does suck, essentially putting the boots to my social life. Running through the cashier work on autopilot made things much easier to finish up than paying full attention. If I thought about it any further, I would just throw myself into another fear whirlwind.

Getting into my old Crown Vic, the ice cream was sitting in the plastic bag before I got caught in the rush hour traffic. Feeling the phone in my pocket rumble with an unread message, it was most likely Jessica, Brandy, or most likely mom. Making sure to check it when I got home, the small niggling doubts were still in the back of my mind. Could they be the kind of people that were really spiteful? Maybe they just didn’t like people? Why would they stay on graveyard shift when it absolutely kills your social life? Is Jake an addict of something, or just like Robin said, was he just looking like one.

Calling some of the morning girls from work, I found that they liked Chinese food, frequently having a plate of it on the side of a table in the break room before they packed up to leave. Seemingly, they were roommates who worked on the same shift as one of the younger girls, even though they were a little closer than that. After telling me to investigate their relationship while working, the phone vibrated off my shoulder between the center console and passenger seat. Don’t judge me about it. My mom always said you couldn’t do it while driving. Making sure there was no one on the road. The best option was just to yell in my car that the phone was stuck, where home was, and that they would receive a call when I got back. All left was getting home to watch a movie with Cherry Garcia at my side to figure out my plan to get on the good side for the month I was sentenced there. Walking around to the passenger side of the car to pick it all up. Everything was in my hands before stepping over the slightly unclipped lawn to my house.

My mother worked at the bank while dad worked at some office building as an internet security specialist. Closing the door after walking in, it all seemed to be normal. Both parents were still out by the looks of no other cars in the driveway. It had only taken a couple of minutes to get everything started with my usual practiced routine until there was nothing left to do except for me to hit play. As Mulan finally figured out how to fit in with the Chinese army, the plan seemingly mirrored my own. First, she tried to play their own game before letting her personality shine through. Eventually, learning her tricks made me feel like if things got to a worst-case scenario, that wasn’t being fueled by bad horror tropes.

Getting a good rest before my parents got back, the most challenging part was getting my schedule ready for tomorrow. Trying to sleep in seemed like a good idea to come up rested, except it made me feel more like a headache was already warming up.

It was warming up. Figuring out a combination of all the information my friends had told me left me with being confident in my work and a bag of Chinese food equal to a couple of family-size dishes of general Tso’s chicken and some fried fish item. There was this little place on the way that a family-owned often place a couple of miles away that made what I thought was good; I just hoped they felt the same way. If they didn’t like it, there was always a place for leftovers back at home. Pulling into the parking lot with the food still warm in the containers made me feel something else that had begun to gnaw at me.

Orange lights flooded the parking lot with faded white lines marking out the various places where the town would often park half their cars when they would meander through the store over the day. Knowing there would be only two other people made everything seem more foreign, like something not supposed to happen. A failure upon the entire world could have occurred looking out on that parking lot, yet no one would be the wiser. Closing the door with a clash, a miniature nail of fear scratched up my spine as the food in my hands seemed to be a little beacon of life that all was well in the world. But, it also let me know as I clutched it like a teddy bear that may be reading horror when working at night would not be the greatest of ideas. Creepy stories from the internet, on my phone would just have to be read another time as the long walk to the only unlocked door at the back of the store seemed to call for something horrible. This was the kind of crushing, foreboding darkness that people used to relate to in the old movies.

Shuffling quickly to the side of the building with no one else in sight, all thoughts of who would accept her was removed for the deep fear growing in the pit of her gut. Pushing through the door, the bright halogen lights made everything in the back a little more cheery neither person was back there, still leaving her with the overwhelming loneliness. Keeping the bag with her made it very easy to turn to make sure to lock the door as the last person entering for the shift. Morning crew would come to help finish up the polish and small chores while the main point of the graveyard was to stock the isles, receive the orders and make sure that everything would be maintained for the most part from day today.

Half the lights were off in the main store to help conserve power, making the feeling of crushing loneliness return. No customer was in the store, while three aisles over at the other end of the store were the few notes of some techno-rock. Moving closer, I could hear a pair of voices chatting, one in a husky bass voice while the other stood a little higher. The larger one had a tuft of bright blue colored hair covering a grey-blue eye from where I was standing. Rings from lack of sleep gave him a ghost-like appearance from the half of his face that could be seen. His frame seemed scrawny in a place only to be covered in thick ropes of muscle around his arms and legs. The other was a couple of inches shorter with broader shoulders to hold another fifty pounds. His hair was a long dark brown with a hat that reminded me of a cowboy’s with the wide brim.

Despite being the shorter of the two standing a full head under the taller man, he still had to be six feet tall. Taking a deep breath before moving forward, my steps clapped against the tile, making the moment drag out. My bag of Chinese food was tight in my other hand; the hope was that fear did not come across, pushing all the confidence left to the front. Putting my hand out, I could see him run around puffing out his chest, looking at me for a single second, his friend silent as well.

“Jake and Paul, right?”

Looking at me for a moment, he just nodded before thumbing over to the taller man.

“That is Jake, and this is Paul, so you must be Rebecca, correct?” His voice seemed to echo more than usual, making it seem like he was louder than he actually was. Suddenly it occurred. I did not answer as he just looked at me with a single eyebrow quizzically arched before shaking my hand.

“We don’t bite. We just are rather private people for the most part. So you must be the new replacement, correct?”

His question seemed to snap me back out of whatever thought bubble I was drowning in because my voice came back quickly, shooting that I was not a replacement. Guffawing for a moment, it seemed the wide grin settled on him like it would the Cheshire cat or the old pictures of Theodore Roosevelt. Wide grin with eyes so dark under the hat gave the same quality of noticing his mouth before the rest of his face. Then, hearing the familiar rumble of the phone, it was quickly pulled out before he looked at the taller guy to show me around where some of the supplies were.

Walking back, he talked in what I found a very mismatched voice. Yet, for all the fear his appearance had, his voice was just that comforting. Looking back to see the shorter man stamp his foot once the words hushed even in the mostly silent store. Turning back to Jake, he was looking back at his co-worker.

“Do they allow you guys to talk on the phones while you work ?”

Turning his head back to me, he thought for a moment shaking his head left to right and back in thought before telling me that as long as the job had been done, they had a lot of leeway on the shift, more so than any other shift.

“When he has to take a call, it normally is important.”

You can get it online here (click me), and I hope you enjoyed this little taste of it.

Stay strong.