The Girl Who Worked Graveyard Shift

I’ve been working graveyard shift for a few months already. It’s not bad. The night does get long though. I sometimes work from 10pm-6am but that’s depending on the hours.

Most nights, it’s just me, the hum of the refrigerators, and the occasional customer who looks like they don’t really want to be out that late. It’s empty after 12am.

Silverstone gets… quiet after midnight.

Like, too quiet. Even the cars stop passing by after a while.

The streetlights flicker sometimes, and if you stand still long enough, you can hear the buzzing overhead. I didn’t really mind it at first. Actually… I kind of liked it.

No crowds.

No rush.

No one really paying attention to me.

It felt peaceful.

…until a few weeks ago.

That’s when I started noticing the same thing happening every night.

At exactly 3:13 AM—

The front doors would slide open.

Just like normal.

Like someone had walked in.

But no one ever did.

At first, I told myself it was just a glitch.

Old building.

Old sensors.

Stuff like that happens, right?

But then it kept happening.

Every single night.

Same time.

Same sound.

Doors opening…

And nothing there.

The first time it actually scared me…

was when the register printed a receipt.

I hadn’t touched anything.

I was just standing behind the counter, scrolling on my phone, trying to stay awake. Majority of the time, I run on a soda or energy drink or else I’m just sleepy during my shift. I stock some items here and there if I need to so that helps me stay busy.

And then— randomly,

The printer started going.

I remember just staring at it for a second…

waiting for it to stop.

But it didn’t. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms because no one else was here with me.

So I walked over and tore the receipt off.

There were items listed on it.

A bottled water.

Black coffee.

A pack of mint gum.

Normal stuff.

But I hadn’t rung anyone up.

No one had even come in.

I checked the doors.

Still closed.

The store was empty.

I laughed it off.

I mean… what else was I supposed to do?

Tell my manager the register was… ringing up invisible customers?

Yeah. No.

But the next night—

it happened again.

3:13 AM.

Doors open.

Receipt prints.

Same items.

This time I checked the receipt. There was a line that didn’t belong there-

“Thank you for coming back.”

I push my brows together a bit. I checked the name on the bottom of the receipt below.

Hannah Collins

Hannah Collins? That didn’t make any sense. There was a case of a missing girl with the name: Hannah Collins. She had gone missing last spring and was declared gone because no one found her. I thought I saw this name actually the other night when I worked before I had come in at 12am.

But I didn’t think it’d be that Hannah. I checked the trash for that receipt. Luckily, I found it and checked the name on it. Yeah, it was this Hannah.

Hearing a soft shuffle in an aisle made me nearly jump out of my skin. The fridge buzzed louder. The lights flickered.

I decided to check the security footage in the office, so I quickly walked over to the office and sat down at the chair to look in the computer. I check every place in the store and it was completely empty. I noticed subtle movement in the footage like lights flickering or items slightly shifted that I knew I had placed perfectly hours ago.

~~~

After making sure that there no one in the store, I decided to check the storage room and find out about Hannah. I walked slowly to the storage. The hallway smelled like old cardboard and dust. My shoes squeaked lightly on the tile, echoing in the quiet store. I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart was racing.

~~~

For a moment, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. The lights above me flickered more. I see nothing. I started moving a little faster to the storage room. I took a look at the time and it was almost time for break.

~~~

I pushed open the storage door slowly, letting it creak just enough to make my nerves jump. The light inside flickered, casting long shadows over stacked boxes and dusty shelves. The air smelled heavier here, like old paper mixed with something I couldn’t quite place.

~~~

I stepped inside, trying not to knock anything over. My eyes scanned the piles of boxes and folders. Most were labeled with dates, supplies, or old employee records. Then, at the back, I saw it—a small box with Hannah Collins’ name written in fading ink.

~~~

I hesitated before picking it up. My fingers trembled as I opened it, revealing papers, a few employee files, and a yellowed newspaper clipping about her disappearance last spring. My stomach twisted. I pulled the clipping closer, squinting at the headline.

“Missing teen found nowhere…”

The words blurred slightly, my hands shaking. I set the box down and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. A soft clatter echoed somewhere behind me—just a box shifting, I told myself—but my heart raced anyway.

I couldn’t stop looking through the papers. There were old schedules, handwritten notes from a manager, and a photograph of Hannah smiling in the uniform I now wore.

Then, I noticed it: a faint shadow along the far wall, stretching across the boxes. I froze. The lights flickered again, and it vanished.

I swallowed hard. My break was starting soon, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Something about Hannah’s files, the way her name kept appearing… it felt like she was still here, somehow, just out of sight.

I checked the clock again. Break time.

I decided to look through these on break while I ate. So I brought the box with me to the break room, which was on the other side of the store.

I set the box down on the table in the break room, peeling open my soda as if I could distract myself from what was inside. The lights overhead buzzed faintly, and the hum of the refrigerators felt louder here, like the building itself was awake.

~~~

I opened the box slowly, pulling out Hannah’s files one by one. There were old schedules, notes from the manager, and a few yellowed newspaper clippings. I tried not to let my hands shake, but my heart was pounding anyway.

One of the clippings caught my eye: a photo of Hannah smiling in the uniform… the same uniform I wore now. Seeing it made a chill run down my spine.

I flipped through the handwritten notes carefully. Most were mundane—shifts, inventory, reminders—but one line made me pause:

“3:13 AM… never leave the floor alone.”

My stomach twisted. I blinked at the words, reading them again. 3:13 AM… the exact time the doors kept opening.

I leaned back in the chair, trying to calm my racing thoughts. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was fatigue. But deep down, I knew… it wasn’t.

I munched on my sandwich while looking through the files. I remember seeing Hannah around- she was just a year older then me.

I took another sip of my soda and leaned over the box. The clippings, files, and old notes were all right there. I flipped through them slowly, almost afraid to see something new. Each piece made my chest tighten.

One note from the manager made me pause:

“Make sure you never leave the floor alone. 3:13 AM is… different.”

I frowned. My hands rested on the paper as I stared at the words. 3:13 AM. The doors. The receipts. Hannah Collins. Everything was connecting in a way that made no sense.

I glanced around the break room. The lights flickered, and for a moment, I thought I saw a shadow cross the corner of my eye. I blinked and it was gone. Just the hum of the refrigerators now. My stomach twisted.

~~~

I decided to check the footage one more time, frame by frame. Sitting back at the office chair, I stared at the monitors. Most of the store was empty. No one moving. But then… a subtle shift. A shadow at the edge of the back aisle. A box slightly out of place that I knew I had stacked perfectly earlier. My pulse sped up.

I leaned closer. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe not. Either way, I couldn’t ignore it.

The shift carried on slowly. I walked back to the storage room to return the box, my shoes squeaking against the tile. The hallway smelled like dust and old cardboard again. The stacks of boxes seemed taller, looming in the dim flickering light.

I set the box down carefully, straightening it so it wasn’t crooked. For a moment, everything was still. The store felt heavier somehow, like it was holding its breath with me.

I walked back to the counter, glancing at the clock. 3:13 AM was coming up again. My heart skipped a beat, but I stayed behind the counter, watching, waiting.

The doors slid open. Quiet. Empty. No footsteps. No one.

The register stayed silent this time. The lights flickered once, then steadied. I held my breath. Nothing happened. Nothing but the quiet hum of the store.

I realized then that maybe… Hannah wasn’t gone. Not really. Not in the way we think. Maybe she had never left. Maybe she had been there all along, quietly moving through the aisles, leaving little signs, reminding anyone who noticed that she was still around.

I smiled softly, a little sad, a little relieved. The mystery wasn’t solved. But it didn’t need to be.

The night continued. Cars stopped passing by outside. Streetlights flickered in the distance. The hum of the refrigerators kept me company. And for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel alone.

I took a deep breath, sipped my soda, and leaned back. Another long night ahead. But somehow… I was okay with that.