Jaqueline was late for work. Again. She had forgotten to set her alarm. Again. “Jesus,” she muttered to herself. “I need to get my life straight.”

    She dressed, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Jaqueline called her boss. “Hey, Lindsey. I’m gonna be a little late. Family emergency.” She heard Lindsey snort. “Uh-huh, you’ve got half an hour.” And she hung up. Jaqueline sighed with relief. “Thank god.” She shouldn’t have been thanking him so soon.

    As she rushed down the stairs to make coffee, she realized she was famished. Jaqueline checked the fridge. Nothing. “Great,” she spoke angrily to the refrigerator. “Just flipping great.”

    Jaqueline made her way out to her car. Once she got in, and started it, she saw that she was almost on empty. A wave of rage rushed through her body. She slammed her fists on the wheel, honking the horn rather obnoxiously. An elderly man stared at her with contempt. Or was it pity on his face? She didn’t care. Either way, it was impolite to stare at someone. “Sorry,” she called out. “It’s a Monday.” She flashed a sorry grin. He returned it. “Happens to the best of us,” and he walked away.

    She drove until she reached the closest petrol-station. She pulled up to pump number four. Jaqueline stepped out of her car, as a guy walked into the store. She had parked on the wrong side, the tank facing the other way. “Fudge monkeys,” she snapped. Jaqueline pulled out, and then got in the correct way. Once she got out to the pump, she realized it was card-only. She opened her purse to pull out her debit. Her pocketbook was nowhere to be found. Jaqueline just laughed pitifully at this. Luckily, she kept an emergency £20 in her makeup bag. She walked towards the building, hoping they would accept cash. She heard shouting, as she opened the door. “I said put the bloody money in the bag!” a man shouted.

    The woman at the register glanced at Jaqueline. She hid behind one of the aisles. “I told you, we don’t accept cash. There’s nothing here!” Jaqueline’s heart was racing, and it sank as she heard this. She looked at the door, hoping someone would walk in. Should she make a run for it? No, she decided that would be dangerous. “That's a load of bull!” the man yelled. “You got five seconds ‘fore I blow ya bloody brains out!” The woman started to cry, begging him to stop. Jaqueline’s nose started to tickle. Not now, she thought. She looked up at the light, a trick that never worked for her before. Her feeling of having to sneeze dissipated. She thanked God for the second time that day. Still too soon. ”Five, four, three, two,” the man shouted these numbers. The woman just cried. “One.” He pulled the trigger.

    Jaqueline screamed. She realized it, and put her hand over her mouth.

The man had heard her.

    He walked slowly around the aisle, and smiled through his balaclava. “Well, well, well,” he grinned. “How long ‘ave you been there, pretty?” She couldn’t speak, feeling frozen with fear. She found her voice. “Please,” she squeaked. “I have a family,” she lied. This made him laugh. “So do I, and they hungry.” As he said this, a man walked up, looked Jaqueline in the eye, and ran. She began to sob. “You ain’t gonna tell nobody, is you?” She shook her head. “Run me your purse.” She handed it to him. Jaqueline shut her eyes, and prayed. “You know,” he started, his gun pointed directly between her gorgeously blue eyes, which were now red from crying. “I was gonna let you go, but nah. It’s Murder Monday,” he flashed a yellow smile. “No witnesses, just how I like it.” He pulled the trigger for the second time that day.