May 30, 2019
In 2017, I was working at the local McDonald's. The thing about fast food, especially when you're in your 50's, is that it gets to you after awhile. You start to see creepy stories everywhere. Take the day we had 3 cups of fizzy drinks on the counter. I was bored. A story formed. After work, I wrote it in my notebook. This is the rough draft: I looked up at the monitor - 1 small Sprite, 1 large tea, 1 large coke. I quickly made them and set them at the end of the counter. But they never moved. No one put them with an order. No one seemed to recall any orders having those drinks. But I knew they were there. I read them aloud. The creepy cashier on register 3 even asked if they'd been made. But now...now no one remembered them. At the end of the lunch rush, one of the managers came along and threw them in the trash. I know she did. I saw her. Moments later - they were back on the counter. Sweat ran down their sides and onto the counter top. The manager walked back past - she never saw them. No one could see them but me. I threw them away at the end of my shift. My hands were wet from the sweat. They were real. I walked across the parking lot to my car. It was sweltering out. I unlocked my car door. Scalding heat rolled out. I quickly got in and started the car, desperate to get the air conditioning running. That's when I noticed something in the passenger seat. There, sweating in the heat were the 3 drinks. The seat was becoming wet from the sweat. A puddle was beginning to form. It was growing larger. Within seconds, it spilled over and onto the floor. I tried to unlock the door, but couldn't get out. I pounded on the windows and screamed for help - no one noticed me. It was like I was invisible. There was a knock on the hood of my car. I looked up. The creepy girl on register 3 was standing there laughing. The last thing I remember was her glowing red eyes.