Halence sat on the tall metal stool behind the counter, glaring at the cash register before her. For the umpteenth time today, it had refused to open; leaving her frustrated enough to consider bashing the confounded thing with a sledgehammer. She had only been working at the local discount store for a matter of a few weeks, but already she was fed up with the rude customers, the faulty equipment, and her over-sized, over-paid, over-egotistic boss. If she hadn't desperately needed the money, she would have burned the place to the ground with a smile on her face. But as it was, she did need the money, more than she needed her sanity, and so she bit back the sarcastic remark that rose to her lips as the woman on the other side of the counter tapped her foot impatiently.

"Is this going to take much longer? I have a previous engagement."

'Yeah, and I have a mom to get back to whose probably already lying on the floor in her own vomit.' Halence thought rudely.

But she kept her mouth shut and smiled.

"Just a moment ma'am, I'm having some trouble getting the cash register to open."

"Well is there anyway you can get it to open more quickly? I really can't be late."

Halence couldn't help but wonder where the woman, dressed in a pine-striped suite with four-inch high heels, was planning on spending her night. The first image that popped into her head was a business appointment, one where everyone would be wearing stiff-suites and drinking water from wine glasses. But after she looked at her watch, she wondered what kind of business meeting would take place at 2:30 in the morning. A party perhaps? It was impossible for Halence to guess. Instead, she grabbed the screwdriver from underneath the counter and jammed it into the side of the register, effectively prying open the drawer. She counted out the woman's change and handed it to her, secretly hoping the woman's night would go better than Halence's.

As the door closed behind the black and gold heels, another customer stepped up to the register. This one was a man, only a handful of inches taller than Halence herself, whose blonde hair hung in a water-fall effect to the end of his chin. His eyes were dark, his expression stern and statue-like. The over all effect, though handsome as he was, sent a sickening chill through her core that caused goose bumps to slither down her arms. She was grateful for the length of her curled brown hair, which hid the raised pores on her limbs.

"Hi, how can I help you?" Halence tried to sound cheery, as she did with all her customers, despite the creepy feeling emanating from the man in front of her.

He set a package of paper plates down on the counter, and Halence picked it up to scan it. The man just stared at her as she worked, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Reading the screen of the register, Halence told him the amount, and quickly returned the change, eager to have him out of her space. Throwing the package into a yellow, plastic bag, she handed it to him, hoping it would shoo him away.

It didn't instead he took the package and continued to stand there, continued to stare. Halence wasn't entirely sure how to handle the situation. Should she clear her throat and hope that brought him out of his trance-like state? Should she ignore him and hope instead that he simply walked away?

She didn't do either, instead, she stared back.

When he finally spoke, his voice was deep and gravelly, though held complete assertion and demanded respect.

"What's your name?"

Resorting back to her sarcastic nature, Halence pointed to her name tag with a smile.

"Halence McCartly? Pretty name. I hope to see you again soon Halence."

And with that, he turned and walked out of the crummy discount store, and, as

Halence hoped, out of her life.

Later that night as Halence was leaving the store, she tried desperately to forget the odd man who had entered the store and attempted to challenge her to a staring contest. Instead, she began to wonder about the condition she would find her mother and father in. The night before, she had lucked out. It had been one of those rare occasions when her father had gone to work; her mother had sat in front of the TV. without a bottle in her hand, and Halence had come home to find that both of them had managed to find their way to their bed. She herself had been able to go to bed as well without having to do any cleaning or heavy lifting. She half-hoped tonight would be the same, but the strongest fantasy wouldn't squash out logic. She would not be able to go home to her bed.

As she began the three-quarter mile walk to her house in the relative silence of the city, she took out her very old, very ghetto tape player and listened to the classic rock roaring through the cheap headphones, trying to block out all emotions and thoughts from within her.

As the last song finished and Halence took the tape out to turn it over, she heard something coming from behind her. She turned to see who it was, (curiosity often got the better of her). She wasn't as surprised as she should be when she realized that no one was there. After deducing the sound to that of rats, she turned around. She bumped into someone standing directly in front of her, and looking up into their face she realized it was the man from the store.

"Sleep."

And with that, she passed out.