It was 6:15 pm on Tuesday evening. Trisha heard some noises behind her as she ran so fast to the store before it closed. The sounds faded away as she carried on. It felt like there had been an incident involving some cars and pedestrians who crossed the road with her on red light but she couldn't really be bothered. She had forgotten her iPhone at the store when she was paying for some items. She wasn't surprised that she forgot it in the first place - she and her mate, Chika, had picked up 2 pairs of plimsoles from the shelves earlier and had hid hers under her loose chiffon blouse in the store. She was quite nervous when she paid for the other items she bought but the odds fell on her 64gb iPhone. It was the new white iPhone 6, a gift from her father who was a religious leader in one of the few orthodox churches in the county. She'd just installed Snapchat and Whatsapp on it and her first Snapchat message was sent when she took the plimsole; she shot a 6 seconds snapchat clip telling her friend, Lily, how she and Chika had taken the plimsoles without being seen and they were going to leave the store without paying for them.
Trisha continued to run and as she got closer to the store, she could see the security guard turning the 'opened' sign back to 'closed' and the automatic doors had begun shutting together already. She managed to increase her speed until she came real close to the door and had to slow down so she could manoeuvre and fit her size 10 frame and size 30 DD bust size through the thin space left before the automatic glass doors shut completely. However, as she did, she noticed the guard, who was standing behind the clear glass of the shop front, saw her but didn't bother to stop her. Even when she was already in, he still carried on with shutting the blinds of the other windows with the mannequins behind them as if nothing unusual had happened. She made for the counter and as she turned from the bags aisle into the payment section, she could see someone, a staff, leaving the till area through a door behind the counter.
"Hello! Hello!", Trisha called out to the staff with a polite yet desperate tone as she approached the counter while slowing down. But she got no response. The staff shut the door anyway. Trisha wasn't upset by that because she knows how bad staff really want to go home after closing hours. She remembered she had also done exactly same to several unfortunate customers who had a way of washing up to her shop after closing hours complaining about something really trivial, she thought. Then she looked around the store and saw the customer service signage hanging on the far corner of the store. She scurried towards it but before she could reach there the lights in the store were turned off.
She was out of options by now and also stranded in the shop. She called out for the security guard she had seen earlier but no one came to her. She could hardly believe this was happening to her. She had never stolen anything before in her life, she thought. Maybe it was a bad idea that she and Chika decided to do what they did. She thought about her iPhone 6 and prayed it was safe lying on a soft surface in a lost and found locker because she didn't want the phone to have any scratch at all. Trisha can hardly remember what life was like without going on Facebook and Instagram incessantly like an autistic person. It was far worse than dying, she thought. She reminisced once when she was asked what three things she couldn't live without and she said they were her phone, network and social media. Trisha walked towards the exit of the shop and she could spot someone who looked like Chika. For a split second, she couldn't remember where Chika was. She only knows she screamed "Chika, my phone - in that store.." and then dashed away but couldn't tell if Chika was going to wait for her or come to the store at her own pace to meet her. Nonetheless, as she walked towards the exit, she noticed the girl outside might just be Chika but this person looked bloodied and was walking dazed and unattended to. She was even more furious that people walked past her but remained oblivious to her state.
As Trisha, came closer to the exit, she was convinced it was Chika and she cried out with a deeply pathetic voice, "Chikaaaaa! Chikaaaa!" Chika's neatly combed and styled Brazilian 21 inches extensions with a fringe on her forehead had gone hay wire. There was blood on her face and torn cream coloured silk top and coffee brown chinos pencil trousers. Chika had her shoes on but the left one had no heel so she limped as she walked. "Chikaaaaa!" Trisha screamed and banged on the glass door with all her strength until Chika turned and walked towards her. "Chika, doctor, ambulance, call, call, hospital, call, help, help, heeeeeeelp." Trisha cried frantically as Chika approached her. When Chika came close enough, Trisha was lost for words as she held her palms over her mouth. "Trisha," Chika mentioned quietly as she walked through the glass door as if it wasn't there and without breaking it, "we are no more alive, Trisha. We were hit by a car at the junction and you died instantly. Ambulance came to revive me but it was too late."