A Helping Hand

My hands still shaking from last night’s alcohol, I tried to focus on the bottle of orange juice on the shelf and finally manage to grab a hold of it. As I put the bottle in my shopping cart my stomach makes another death cry. While trying to swallow away the sour taste in my mouth I slowly make my way towards the dairy products. Suddenly the store is startled by the sound of evil.

One of the reasons I hate shopping. Annoying children. Or worse, Annoying crying children. I turn right at the end of the isle. There I witness the scene of a mother trying to calm her son, who is laying on the ground kicking and screaming. ‘Figures’ I think as I see the little fucker is laying near the cartons of milk I need. Embarrassed and desperate, the mother tries to calm the kid. She fails horribly. Pulling the kid back up she gives in. ‘Alright you can get some candy’ says. For a second the pressure in my head disappears as when my mind is released of ignoring the cries and keeping me sane. That was a fatal error. The sound of a thousand cats being run over by a giant lawnmower fill my head. ‘I want my candy now. ‘I want my…!’


With eyes and mouth wide open, the kid stares at me. The reflection in his wet tear-drenched eyes shows how fucked-up I look; unshaved, eyes all red – an image must have burnt into his mind. Hopefully for the rest of his life. At least I know he won’t be sleeping well tonight. I give him a wry smile as I grab a carton of milk behind him. Slowly he faces his mother, looking for help. Unable to produce any new tears, he tries to scream again.


My well placed hit had done his job. The brat still unaware he hasn’t taken a breath since his last cry, he slowly turns red and starts to spasm.‘You’re welcome’ I say to the mother and walk on. I continue my route without any more obstacles. As I near the shopping lines, my attention is drawn to the pretty looking cashier at line 4. I quickly made my way there. Resting my arms on my cart, I take the time to inspect her more thoroughly. Long brown hair covers her shoulders. She looks young. About 17, I guess. I’d do her. Suddenly see she stares at me. A face looking for help. I look to see the reason for her despair.

The second reason I hate shopping. Old people. An old lady with her big black purse open stands in front of the cashier. As if in slow motion, I follow her movements. She seemed to be looking for coins and putting them on the table in front of the cashier. Finally what looked like ages she stops. ‘Oh, dear. Looks like I don’t have enough money’. the old hag says. Ready to safe my princess from breaking into tears, I jumped into action. The guy in front of me is busy putting his first item on the belt. With all my strength I smashed my cart into his. Ricocheting it towards the old witch. Off guard, she tumbles head down in the cart. ‘Success.’ I just barely managed to suppress a sneaky grin and watch as the cart moves towards the doors. Screams resonate through the mall as people try to save the witch on wheels.

I put my items on the empty belt and walk up to the cashier. She blushes and smiles at me. ‘Thank you’ she says and starts scanning my items. You’re welcome’ I reply. I gaze at her. Sadness, as I come to the conclusion She looks a bit too young. Putting back all my items in the cart I see the black purse laying on the ground. Picking it up I walk towards the exit. Outside a dazed witch sits on the sidewalk surrounded by some people. ‘You lost something’ I said to her, Handing over the purse. ‘Thank you young man’, She mumbles. I smile and walk towards my car, my headache slowly fading.