Sandy Vanilla Memoirs

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4. Dry

"Where is it!" he repeated, slightly louder. 

 

  

I clutched my chest and held onto the counter to prevent myself from falling. The linoleum tiles under my feet were suddenly struggling to move my feet from under me. The canned ingredients on the shelves were swimming to the ceiling while the lights flashed and dimmed in a steady rhythm.   

  

"Can't you see!" Olivia shouted, "She's having a panic attack!" 

  

  The man under the Sunoco cap grunted and pushed Olivia in front of me, "Get the cash yourself, if you try to resist, I'll shoot you and your friend."   

  

For a moment, Olivia considered helping me, but she turned her attention to an inconspicuous mop bucket between two shelves. She rolled it aside to reveal a safe. She began to turn the dial as she let out wet, sloppy moans and tears mingled with boogers. While she entered the digits, the man looked at me and slowly slid his cap up and lowered his gun, "Uh...is your friend going to be okay?"  

  

Between breaths, I exhaled, "Water-I-water!"   

  

Sunoco man turned around and grabbed a bottle of water from the shelf I was pointing at and handed it to me. I steadily drank the water and regained my normal breathing pattern. I tried to calm myself as Olivia emptied the tiny safe.  

  

When she gave him the small pile of money, the man in the cap grabbed it and ran straight out the door. As he ran down the street with the little money the restaurant made, Olivia and I hugged and cried it out. We called the cops five minutes later. 
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