Young Writers Society

Five






I hate shopping. Loathe it, but it is necessary. The terrible burden of normality must be born. I had to get what I needed, but shopping was something I had done when I still had a normal life, a chance at a normal future, and a normal face. I also hate the word normal. Noorrmmell ... NermL ... Normmall.
Bleh, Yetch, and Uck.
“We go in and we go out. Then we go to the retardis. No messing around.” I hate shopping.
“Retardis?” she laughed. “Cute.” I scowled. I hate to shop.
We walked into a store, I could sense the normality seeping through my shoes. I hate shopping.
Alice pulled out her gun and said, “Il s'agit d'un vol qualifié. J'ai un fusil.” She was a little trigger happy. I hate shopping.
The occupants of the store stared at her for a beat, then started screaming. Damn. “S’il vous plaît rester où vous êtes, personne n'a à se blesser” I said, trying to get to the phone so I could disconnect it. Alice was smiling like a jack o’ lantern. I hate shopping.
I finally disconnected the phone, just as the clerk was picking up to say, “Police? Aidez-moi! Mon magasin est se faire voler!” I hate shopping.
To Alice I said, “Quit being so reckless. Go find clothes. I will handle this,” her face fell. I hate shopping.
“Chacun descendre sur le plancher s’il vous plaît.” The customers obliged, but so did the cashier. “Pas vous, Daniel” That was on his name tag. I hate shopping.
He looked up, shocked. “Comment savez-vous mon nom?” I pierced him with my gaze. “Je sais choses.” He was an idiot. I drummed my fingers on the table. I hate shopping.
“Quickly, Alice.” I was nervous for some reason. I surveyed the store. Nothing seemed to be amiss, except...
“@#!$” I swore. In what language I forget. That lady had a cellphone. “$#@%&* @!#@$#% !@#$%^&* *&^^^%$##@!, I think that might have been Swahili. “Alice! Run! We got to get out of here,” she jumped, dropping the shirt in her hands. She bent to pick it up. “Drop it! The police are-”
“VOUS ÊTES ENTOURÉ. LAISSEZ LE BÂTIMENT AVEC VOS MAINS ASCENDANT.”
“Alice,” I said quietly. “Run.” I turned. She followed. I found a fire escape and ran up to the roof. The police sometimes forgot these when they “surrounded” suspects. Its more like they block all the doors. Plus, they were bound to get sloppy, we were two girls robing a clothing store. I can imagine how that looked. I jumped down to the floor below and swore. There was a police officer there. Alice dropped down. The policeman stared. I pulled the Hawk out of Alice’s hands. I didn’t need a trigger-happy sidekick shooting innocent coppers. His hands shot to his gun. Not good. I was many things, but I wasn’t bulletproof. I pointed the hawk at him, he stopped, and slowly put his hands in the air.
“Ne faites aucune chose que vous regretterez.” he said, eyeing my gun.
“Je ne vais pas tirer sur vous, aussi longtemps que vous le coopérer” I didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially the police. We were on the same side. “mettre votre arme sur le terrain. Bon, maintenant tirer ensuite.”
“Alice, look around for more police...Alice?”
“I see one.” she squeaked. Uh oh.
“Where?” Though I already knew.
“Here!” Damn.
I hate shopping.

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