Aqua Oneshot Competion

#4 ~ Peace

Prompt ~ You wake up with a weird injury you don't remember getting.

Wordcount ~ 1918

fandombeforeblood0 :) sorry it's late and honestly not my best work...

~~~

Mason was bored.

He was standing behind the counter of his local gas station, leaning on the plywood countertop and drumming his fingers against it. His hazel eyes scanned the room, surveying the store. There was absolutely nobody else in there but him.

Sighing, he looked at the small digital clock beside him. It was 9:57, meaning he only had three minutes left in his shift. His boss wouldn't be too mad if he started wrapping up early, would he?

Hoping for the best, Mason walked over to the tiny locker room out back. He pulled off his apron and nametag and shoved them in his locker. After checking that he had his phone, wallet, and keys, he sped through the store and out the front door. He hastily locked it before turning on his heel and beginning the long walk home.

Mason was seventeen, so technically he could - and should, he thought irritably - have a car. But, with his mom abandoning the family when he was only four and his dad wasting all their spare cash on alcohol and scratch tickets, there was no way that he could get a car anytime soon. That was why he picked up his job at the gas station - so that he could eventually buy himself a car.

An eery feeling crept up Mason's spine and over his shoulders. He swiveled his head, looking  around for any other people. He couldn't decipher many shapes in the dusky atmosphere with flickering street lights, but he could tell that the was alone. There weren't even any cars driving by. It was just him.

Still, he felt an odd coolness against his skin during the warm August night. It felt like someone was watching him. But that was impossible. He was the only one around.

He shook his head and pulled out his phone. After plugging in his headphones and putting them into his ears, he turned on his favorite playlist and continued walking home. The familiar beat of one of his favorite songs helped soothe his nerves a little.

About ten minutes later - a little quicker than usual, he noted - Mason hiked up the ricketty stairs attached to their trailer. He narrowed his eyes at the welcome mat - Welcome To Our Home Sweet Home! Ugh, how cheesy could you possibly be? Rolling his eyes, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, shutting it roughly behind him.

Kicking off his beat up Reeboks, Mason walked into the kitchen to grab a snack. Taped on the fridge door was a messily scrawled note from his dad, explaining that he was out doing business for the night and not to wait up for him. Mason scoffed and tore the paper off of the fridge. 

Crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash, he muttered under his breath, "How stupid does he think I am?"

Whenever Mason's father implied he was "doing business" it really meant that he was out at the local bar, chugging alcohol until he forgot everything about his life. Until he forgot where he lived, with who he lived, and why he lived there. He drank to forget about his terrible life and terrible circumstances. 

Mason, being underage, didn't have this capability. Sure, there were kids in his school who went out drinking or smoking, but he didn't have the heart. He could easily break the law and get off his face at a party, but he never did. 

He liked to think it was because he wanted to be a good person and get through his troubles without being under the influence, but deep down he felt differently. Deep down, he felt as though he deserved everything he got in life and he deserved to feel it all fully, without being hindered with beer or marijuana.