Five

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    I wanted to cry. The last time that I was told happy birthday was when my mother was alive. I don't like dwelling in things like this, so I never told anyone my birthday. Not even little Holly.
    "What's wrong?" He said, immediately telling that there was something wrong.
    I tried not too, but a small tear streamed down my face. I quickly wiped it away and focused all of my attention to the cash register.
     I saw someone slide a tissue towards the cash register I was at and I looked for who placed it there. It was Ming.
"You don't have to talk about it. But I never got your name," he said and focused his attention onto a customer that looked suspicious.
"Kit."
The suspicious guy ran out with a few items without paying. I ran out of the store to chase him, but Ming did nothing.
Unfortunately, I didn't catch him. I saw Ming putting his own money into the cash register.
"He could be trying to feed a child. Or a sick mother, poor thing!" He said, getting lost in his own conclusions.
"Or he could just be selfish. Don't give people the benefit of he doubt. It won't do you any good."
And with that I ended the conversation. We were there for a couple more hours and then our shift was over.
"Come on," Ming said and grabbed my wrist. "My car is over here."
We walked towards the back of the store and found a parking lot that I didn't know was there. Ming walked me to his car and we both got in.
    "How old are you?" I asked.
    "I'll be eighteen in four days."
He drove home to his apartment. When we arrived, we rushed into his apartment. I could taste blood, and I eventually felt the world spin. My vision kept moving and getting darker until it all went black.

His Dark Journal | Ming x KitWhere stories live. Discover now