Knife

It didn't matter whether it was a Swiss or a Santoku, for as long as it can cut through flesh, it would do. Firmly holding the sharp object that I picked after rummaging through the rack, I proceeded directly to what was behind me when I noticed that there were tens of people swarming. Though they didn't bother to throw a glance, I can sense that some of them were already aiming to my direction. My feet, as if they had their own brain, frantically stepped towards an alley.

Right then, three people were also meeting me at the end of the passageway, with the other two motioning towards me, bringing metal carts. More people surrounded me, blocking any possible way out. Sweat crept on my forehead as I watched my wristwatch. 

"06:22 p.m.," I murmured. 

I fished for my phone out of my pocket and dialed my brother's number. After a few rings, he immediately answered. 

"Hey, where are you? What's taking you long? Do you know that it's past six already?" he gave me a sermon. 

"It might take me some time. Shoppers are rushing around," I said as I gazed at the filled supermarket.

Cautiously, with the knife in my grip, I flocked together with the other people towards the counter. I'm left with two options anyway: either I'll endure the long line and wait for my turn to pay or come back empty-handed and eat unsliced steaks in our unfurnished apartment tonight.