You Make The Pain Fade Away

Chapter One

"Oh don't be silly. You'll make me feel bad," Grandma spoke up.

John chuckled. "I would love to stay. I gotta run, though. In charge of the store."

"Didn't you say you were hiring?," Grandpa questioned.

"Why yes," John responded.

"You should take my granddaughter. She'll help you. Right Ashley?," Grandma smiled. I almost choked on a piece of egg. She's kidding me right? I am not going anywhere.

Everyone was staring at me, which made me feel very uncomfortable.

"Sure," I blurted out. I wanted to slap myself right there.

"I guess we should get going then. I'm already late," John said anxiously. I stood up leaving me no other choice.

I am not liking this. I certainly did not want to leave the house.

I didn't even know the guy and Grandma practically put me on the spot. I did not want to be rude, so I wisely kept my mouth shut.

I'm going to be eighteen. I think I can make my own decisions now. I hate being commanded.

We walked to the front door with Grandma on the tow.

"You'll be fine and you'll meet a lot of people," Grandma assured me with a broad smile. I grimaced, but I turned away, not letting her see my expression.

"Thanks. I'll bring her back later," John smiled at her. Without another word, I stepped out of the house, racing down the wooden stairs. I was blinded by the bright sun, hitting my face directly. I hated the sticky hot weather. That's another reason I prefer to stay inside. I squinted and noticed a red truck. Assuming it was his, I approached it, and I climbed onto the passenger seat. A few seconds later, he hopped on. In silence, he put the truck to life and slowly exit into the dirt road. As soon as we were far enough, he accelerated the truck to it's fullest.

The road was awfully bumpy and I was not liking the effects on me. We left behind a thick cloud of dirt. When we reached town, he slowed down.

"How ya like the ride?," he spoke up. I glanced at him. He was smirking and had dark sunnies on, preventing me from seeing his eyes. I glared at him.

I was starting to dislike him. I decided not to reply.

He parked behind a building of bricks that seem to be in a good condition. I followed him inside, that brought us to a storage room. It had boxes of food neatly in shelves and refridgerators on the other side. It was small compared to the ones in New York.

He switched the lights on and opened a door that lead us to the actual store.

"Have you ever been a cashier before?," he halted, spinning around.

I've never worked in my life!

"No," I mumbled, my hands sweating. I wanted to go back to my Grandma's house. And never come out. Why did I come here again?

He took off his sunglasses. I met his blazing sky blue eyes. "This going to be harder then I thought."

His southern accent was appealing in a way. It wasn't annoying like other peoples that have their accent thick. His was just fine. A little husky, but it was perfect on him.

He instructed me to stack up some cans on the shelves of a specific row and also add price tags on it. He demonstrated how to, but I definitely did not want to do that. Conflict was that I didn't have any other option.

I anathematize this place. I thought I was never going to finish. How was this going to help me from grieving? Just contemplating on that thought made me feel sick.