the girl nodded moodily and made her way to the Dollar Bazaar. with a dramatic sigh, she tugged open the door. bells tinkled faintly. on top of her depression, she felt a stab of irritation.

she rolled her eyes at the huge display of artificial flowers and birthday balloons and headed for the office supply aisle. after tiredly scanning the shelves and noting that they had no pens, she trudged to the health and beauty aisle. as if there were really any formal names for the aisles, she thought acidly. it was just mounds of junk. all the cosmetics were melting with age and the lotions and shampoos were "lightly aged" at best. everything was generic brand or super-super clearance and she felt that this, above all things, was a sign of her plight.
she had barely been alive for 13 years and already things were caving in. and everything seemed cheap and meaningless. her chipped blue nailpolished fingers reached for a bottle of X-brand painkiller. do you know what it's like to be on the edge? she thought darkly.

after placing some sour gummi jellybeans and peppermint incense in the scratched, green carrying basket emblazoned with the words, "Your Dollar Store," she made her way to the checkout. any other day the cashier would have been, like, really hot. not today. he smiled formally at her.
"how are you doing?" he asked.

"i'm good," she murmured. do you know what it's like to be on the edge? she almost added.

after paying $4.28, she pushed open the exit with a crudely written sign that said simply, "Out." out, she thought. i need to get out. she set her bag down on the edge of the sidewalk and sat down next to it, watching the scant cars left in the parking lot roll slowly away. rain began to darken the worn white of her sneakers.