Dally Robs The Store: A Short Story

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Dally Robs the Store Johnny is dead. Those three words seemed to cling to my very essence, turning my eyes into waterfalls. Why did it have to be Johnny? Why him of all else? The gang needed him. Heck, I needed him. He was—is—the only thing in this god forsaken world that I loved. He was the glue that kept the whole gang from falling to pieces. Without Johnny, life just ain’t the same. Without Johnny… life is meaningless. As I drove into the night, I saw dozens of colorful lights, blazing into my eyes as if intending to make me blind. I realized it was Tom’s, the ol’ convenience store that looks as if the owner forgot to take down his christmas lights. I came to a halt at the side of the store, slipping out of the car and slamming the car door shut. I squinted up at the bright neon lights of the store, all twinkly in their disgusting joyful theme. I scowled, “It ain’t right for it …show more content…

Especially not tonight.” Turning away from that, I jogged towards the entrance of the store, my feet noisily thudding against the pavement in the silent night. I got a hold of the door handle and stepped in, the dingle of the shop keeper’s bell in my ear. I ambled through the store, the low murmurs of the few customers chatting and the constant “ka-ching!” of the cash registers all moving past my senses. I sauntered up to the aisle full of candy, all glorious in its eye-wrenching rainbow colors. I hesitantly elevated a king-sized Hershey bar, lightly tossing it in the air, grasping it in my hand as it dropped. For a moment, I did nothing but gaze at the chocolate, pondering my thoughts. This kind of stuff makes kids happy? Maybe Johnny would like it… At the thought of Johnny, I snapped my head up, aggressively shoving the Hershey back into its place, my hand in a tight clench. I didn’t care if I crushed that candy. Nothing mattered anymore. Johnny

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