Crossing Into The Red

Who am I? Are you sure you want to know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If somebody said, it was a happy little tale...If somebody told you I was just an average ordinary caucasian nerdy white boy with friends & not a care in this fucked up world we call a society… Well, I hate to burst your bubble—but somebody lied… It's funny, but looking at those 12 aisles of my job at Food Lion with tired eyes and standing straight at Register #4 has me thinking about my life and how I got here. I'm telling you from experience that in my 30 years of life, I have been dealt a lousy hand, always wondering if wishing on stars, saying my prayers, and trying to do better will make any difference. I've always endured many bad decisions and choices that instantly came back to bite me. Even though I still felt terrible, I decided to push onward because these jobs had perks.

I got job experience working at Walmart, Price Chopper, Big Lots, and Market 32 while seeing many mom-and-pop stores. If you look hard enough, you might find a good Muslim shop that sells the best beef patties. I've also worked at one of those, but let's not go too deep since that's not why you're giving this story the time of day. Throughout all those jobs, my current one even tops my time working in a chapel, and the grocery store goes by the "Food Lion" brand. I may not be the most prominent Food Lion, but it has a great team and leads that make many customers and me return. Did I forget to mention that most (majority) of the staff here are women? Besides, most are either married, have kids, are taken, or simply not interested. I suppose it's a good thing; it keeps me out of trouble and in line, especially when working as a part-time cashier. After everything I have gone through or put others through, I try to stay low, calm, hidden, and composed. Besides this part-time job, my life has become completely and utterly dull since I became an adult. Underestimated, Underappreciated & never enough to where I'm fully motivated to do more. If I'm not motivated to work, then I'm motivated sexually; I look at people almost as if I'm scanning them along with their most "significant assets." As far as I'm concerned, my only greatest asset is the fact I'm a Caribbean-American male, 6'1 and a half in height, barely drink, don't smoke, I got a job & got my place while having a long fat—

Unexpectedly brought back to reality by the sight of a customer, I flagged her over without even thinking, "Afternoon, Ma'am; I hope you are doing okay today?" I instinctively say since I said these exact words to any customer while automatically bagging her groceries or double-bagging them if they were too heavy, "I am doing fine; how are you doing?" This mid-40s, maybe late 50s woman replied, expecting me to give her an answer with her glasses and crooked teeth. Still, I would have honestly told her, "I want to make out with you in front of all my coworkers and fuck you just to show them what they're missing." But all I said was, "Eh, I'm living." That's what I always say…. if it's not me thinking about my brakes and how many days I have off or how many days I have to come into work or how many times I have to come to my job to pick up groceries or how much I'm spending on certain things so I can pay my bills while worrying about getting evicted, I'm thinking about when is the next time I can get laid? Yeah, things have gotten THAT bad where I'm fearful of using my money the way I want to you, as much as cooking while exercising, But it only lasts so long before that lustful itch comes back more potent the longer I fight. Still, no matter how hard I try, it feels like a demon inside me. It's just wanting to come out and play. As the afternoon turned into night, after pushing many coats back inside for customers to grab and taking a minute break, it was almost time for my 30. But when I was going to go to the office door, hoping to ask Lisa for a few more hours that wouldn't tarnish my part-time status, I just then heard something that changed everything.

"I'm telling you, Suzanne, it's crazy there; the red line in Charlotte is fucking lit." The voice seemed to be coming from Shamika, a short, mixed-skinned black girl on her last week of work, but I continued to listen with my ear to the door, needing more information on this topic of a "Red Line." "I'm not sure about this Red Line business," Lisa replied, which is understandable as she's a southern white married woman with kids while most of the women who work with us are either black single/taken moms or taken Hispanic with a Caucasian skin tone. Surprisingly, Tanisha cut her off, "Child~ don't tell Lisa that type of nonsense as I've been to the R.L. myself, and that place is not for people looking for a bar vibe. More of an all-night party with no stop until sunrise."  This sounded like something that I would love to do, but once again, I felt like an outsider at my job. For as long as I can remember, I've always felt like I was trying for something that wasn't there, hoping to be something I'm not, or just not allowed to be great because others don't believe I can BE great. They believe Jess and anyone else could handle the Red Line Area—Anyone but me…

No matter where I go, the word "outsider" is printed on my forehead like a tattoo that can never come off. I moved like a zombie back to my register; when Lisa came out of the office and back to her station, she saw something was off. "Hey David, are you doing alright? You seem quiet." I didn't know if Lisa was trying to pity or genuinely feel sorry for me, but regardless of the situation or how others felt, I had to lie because there is no word like trust in a world like this, only strategic decision-making. When it comes to a job like this, you have to suck it up and put on a brave face, so with a large gulp of saliva, I coldly smiled, "No worries. I'm fine. Just thinking about things is all." Before Lisa could ask any more questions or think my answer wasn't genuine, more customers started rolling up to my register, which cut off our conversation.

We never really continued that conversation, and maybe things would have turned out differently if we had. When it was time for me to head home, I had already looked into the redline business, finding out that there was more to it than one would expect, but I wasn't one for reading and more interested to see it for myself, so I called a Lyft. I would look for this location Thanks to a particular Reddit user and how the three ladies discussed the place—even if it meant just by myself. When the driver picked me up, it was surprising that it seemed to be a black car, but when the light hit it, you could see a shimmer of red. The driver rolls down the window with a few scars on his face and a no-nonsense attitude in his tone of voice, "Get in." Like a trained soldier, I Immediately did what I was told, but once I closed the door, I looked out the window to see my coworkers looking at me, almost like this was the last time they would ever see me. Their looks in my direction were cold, as if I was a dumb ass to make this decision, but there was no turning back when the door to the car opened and closed with me in it. Once I got into the car and it started, I watched the scenery change from my job to the Dunkin' Donuts, my house, and the city lights rolling by. I don't know; maybe it was because I worked too hard or because I was so excited to see what the Red Line business was all about, but I suddenly started to feel sleepy and began dozing…

Within that dream, I thought about Jess, the beauty of my job. She is generally glued to her phone because of her family or a hooded boyfriend. I don't know how they ended up together, but that's none of my fucking business. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that It doesn't change the fact that I still find Jess sexy as much as I find her beautiful.

Just thinking about her brings back old memories of my past. Some believe that the past brings you clarity, but when it comes to Jess, all these feelings pop up like clockwork with missing pieces. She reminds me of a girl I nicknamed Succubus. She stole my heart in more ways than one, never really felt love, and had more boyfriends chasing after her than Miley Cyrus when she was Hannah Montana. The thought of her makes me feel vulnerable when I am calm and composed. Yes, Jess is different, but succubus pops into my head whenever I look at her like a fly that won't go away. If they were standing beside each other side-by-side, I would almost think they were sisters despite the height where their succubus is much shorter than Jess. Maybe weirdly, the only reason why she keeps popping up whenever I look at Jess is because I wanted love from Succubus, but they didn't love me back, and yet, to this day, I wonder what she's doing now. Last I heard from her, she had gotten pregnant with some smoker and gotten married, that happily ever after type of shit, but that was when I was homeless on the streets because of my mom's divorce bullshit.

She knew how I felt about her, and everyone did as well, but instead, they constantly made fun of me as if I was the problem… Typical people always want others to feel their pain, but when it is the other way around, there's no one to be found. Meanwhile, 10 years now, after being hurt so many times, I'm careful about showing these emotions in front of Jess or anyone. It's almost like there is an invisible wall in front of us that would shock me if I ever thought of getting too close…It makes you wonder what it truly means to be in love. Like all dreams, you must begin by entering a nightmare. I was woken up by being pulled out of the red convertible by the driver, who accidentally or intentionally ripped the shirt off me, leaving me on the ground wearing only my tank top, work pants, black socks, and shoes. Still, things got 'better' once I hit the ground, feeling dazed and confused. Before the driver sped off, I could've sworn I heard him say something, but because of the roar of the engine while coughing from the exhaust fumes and my vision slowly coming back to focus where I was somewhere that I didn't recognize, me getting up off the ground to see that I had been laying on a white crosswalk with the only thing lighting my way was a defective traffic light that only blinked red above me. This was the Red Line. When the car was gone, all I heard was quiet; no crickets were chirping, cicadas, or even flies buzzing over a pile of trash, and it was simply and utterly silent. I didn't know which way to go or what to do because, for some reason, my phone, once I turned it on, had a crack in it. Even worse, there was no reception, meaning I was stranded in the darkest part of the city. The only good thing was that the light function on my phone still worked, so I had no choice but to walk into the darkness alone. Little did I know that Anakin Skywalker was crossing over to the dark side, and it would not let me go because I knew this was just the beginning. Cameras within the light fixtures record my every move—even in the dark.

Because my phones were damaged, the battery was draining fast, and I could barely see my feet. It made me feel anxious while walking around the dark streets and hearing the soft scurrying of rats, raccoons, or ravenous dogs. The further I got, the more I started to feel a vibration underneath me, which meant I was getting close, and the further down I got, the more it felt like I was hacking into a forgotten city level in a video game. My heart was beating fast since I couldn't remember how I was getting this far or even where I was going; following my instincts is one thing, but I didn't even believe I was going into downtown Winston anymore; it was more like I was going underground. When I reached the trail's end after taking a long flight of stairs, I was startled by a smell. This wasn't any ordinary smell but familiar; however, the foul odor came from behind this red door with a light above it. I was afraid of the unknown, but I couldn't turn back now. Slowly opening the red door to a shocking side and music blasting. If I had said that I was shocked when I opened the door, it would have been an understatement, "What in the world—" My heart raced as an unexpected figure closed in from behind. Before I could fully understand, an electrifying rush of panic coursed through my veins, but I battled fiercely to keep my grip on reality. Shadows swirled around me; my surroundings dissolved into obscurity as I was yanked deeper into the mysterious abyss…