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Aimee was fascinated with her own shadow. She kept looking at it, scratching it, seeing where it would disconnect from her and stay with her as she moved through the room lit with lamps.

"Quite down up there," yelled the neighbor down below as they beat the roof with something. "Some of us have work in the morning."

She turned down the music, her shadow gliding on the wall like a freshly washed blanket being thrown down on the bed as she moved. Her soul cried out; it wanted a change of scenery; it wanted a new life; it wanted to be in a new town.

All that she had to do was pick up her new beat-up car up in the morning. Then she could leave and do her best to forget the place where she grew up as much as anyone can.

She arrived at George's house, the man she was buying the car from, and knocked on his door.

A few knocks later and he opened the door.

"Yeah, what is i... oh, it is you." He was in his underwear and wasn't shy about standing in front of her with nothing but them on. "Look," he said fiddling with the knob, "I can't sell you the car."

Aimee's eyes got wide and her heart sunk a little. "No. We agreed today was the day. Look," she said digging through her purse and pulling out a wad of cash, "I've got the money right here." She fanned it out in from of his as if he were about to grab a pole and do a striptease for her.

"No. Really. I can't." He pushed the wad of money away from him. "The cops came by and took it. My ex-wife. She's a real..." he cut himself off before finishing the sentence. "You'll just have to find someone else. Sorry"

With that, he shut the door and left her standing there like an orphan asking for a piece of bread on Thanksgiving day. Tears, like the ones she saw in the movies, began to collect in her eyes. She wiped them away.

"Now what?" she said aloud to herself. Today was the day, the last day, the day she longed for, the day her shadow longed for. She had all of her bags packed and nowhere to go.

"Fuck!" she said as she turned and walked away.

Aimee stood in front of the store she quit just a day ago. With nowhere to go, she would have to return to bagging groceries, that is, if her boss would take her back.

She looked up at the sign, a fifty-year-old piece of plastic that was scratched to hell. This place served as a reminder to all who tried to leave it where they would have to come back to. It was like a poltergeist that called out from every room of a house, never letting up one minute.

"When a sorcerer moves to attack, you can defeat him easily with his own power."

As she trudged to the boss's office, she peered over to where the voice came from. It was the dungeon master calling out the shots from the games table. From what she knew of the boy, he enjoyed making his monsters near unbeatable and didn't take kindly to losing.

Huey was sitting at his desk as usual, typing something or pretending to when he saw anyone enter. He always wanted to appear busy but never really was.

"Huey," Aimee said, "I need to speak with you."

Without looking away from the computer screen, "Oh, Aimee. Back so soon." She could hear the sarcasm gushing out behind his invisible shield. "Weren't you off to be some star or something in the big city?"

"Cut the shit." She wasn't in the mood to play nice but then she thought about the need for a job. She changed her tone. "Sorry, Huey. It's been a stressful day."

"What do you want?"

Grabbing the back of a chair facing the manager, she cleared her throat. "I need my job back. Just until I can find a car again. Please, I don't want to get into the details. Just, please, give me my job back."

Huey stopped doing what he was doing, sat back in his chair, and cleared his throat. "About that. Well, you see. Since your leaving affected us so much, I had to go out a purchase a worker."

"What do you mean by purchase?" She narrowed in her eyes.

With a wave of his hand, he said, "Have a look for yourself."

She looked out the glass window. "I don't see any extra new person."

"It's not a person."

Then she saw it, a rectangular thing that looked like a trash can. It was white on the top and was blue on the bottom. There was a round blue light, about where the belly button would be, blinking on and off like a slow jazz beat.

"You mean that?" she asked pointing out the window.

"Yes. I mean that. That is the Auto-C self-driving floor scrubber. We named it “Aimee,” on account of your departure. I plan on getting another couple if this works out."

Frustrated, Aimee said, "But I'm the bag girl. That thingy does... does... whatever but it doesn't bag groceries."

"I gave that job to Kelly. Mmm" He licked his lips.

"Excuse me!?! She couldn't bag if you helped her. I need a job." Aimee clutched the back of the chair with her finger nails.

"I'm sorry, Hun. There's no point in explaining. You'll just have to find somewhere else to go. Period." He pushed his glasses up on his face.

"Fuck!" She said as she violently shoved utilities off of his desk before walking out the door and out of the store.

What she would do now she had no idea. She would have to pay rent and, without a job, how would that happen next month she did not know.

"Fuck!"

The downstairs neighbor snickered at Aimee, who was telling the landlord her story, and passed her on her way to pick up her mail from the sidewall.

A raised eyebrow, Peter said, "Is that right? You want free rent until you can find a job or another car? Do I understand this right?"

He reminded her of Voldemort and didn't want to say his name for fear that a demon would jump out at her from his greasy hair.

"You know I'm good for it. I've been a good tenant that has always paid on time. You can trust me."

He licked his dry, cracking lips and took a sip of his beer. "Fine. But you'll have to come in and fill out some paperwork."

"Can I just wait here and fill it out?"

"No."

She didn't want to press her luck and she didn't want to go inside but what choice did she have?

She reluctantly agreed to go inside. He shut the door behind her.

When inside, she glanced around the dimly lit room. Her shadow appeared in the corner, covering photos she presume was his family. The room felt like a cave hidden away in the depth of a mountain. Against the wall, her shadow followed her through the room.

"Have a seat." His voice was smooth and mischievous with a tad bit of raspiness to it on account of the alcohol. He disappeared into the kitchen.

Aimee looked at the couch. It was covered with laundry, fresh or worn she couldn't tell because the Glade air-freshener kept her from smell anything but the nasty smell of an apple/cinnamon toxic soup. She picked up clothing with a piece of paper she picked up, pushed over the clothes, laid down the paper, and sat on it.

Coming back into the living room, he sat a beer down on the table. "Have a drink. I'll get the paperwork." He left again, this time into his room.

This was probably the highlight of her day. She needed something to calm her nerves. She took a swig and set the bottle back down on the table. She picked it back up and took a gulp and then set it back down once more.

Minutes rolled by. The sound of the clock's ticking made her look at it.

"Huey, what's take so long." She felt her voice wobble just a bit. As she lifted her hand to her mouth, she felt her arm being heavier than usual. Losing control, her hand landed hard against her face. "Ouch. What the fuck?"

Huey came back into the room. He stood over her like a sniper looking down at his kill. "How are you feeling?" A smirk crossed his face.

"What did you give me?" Her voice sounded a little more distant to her.

"Nothing yet. But, it is going to happen and you won't remember." He let out a small laugh. "Trust me. No one will believe you."

This wasn't the change of scenery she was looking for. This wasn't the new life she drempt of living. This was the same old town with the same old creeps she'd wanted to get away from. It was too late to protest now. Whatever he gave her took her system over like a caged lion protecting its cub.

"Sit back," he said, "I'll enjoy the ride." The black rings around his eyes were the last things she remembered before blacking out.

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