Short Story//Lasting Impressions

{Starring a girl, a guy, some drama, and a life-changing decision. This is one of my rejected submissions that I feel I can no longer expand on and wish to post here.}

The world is a kaleidoscope of colors that fade in and out of focus, mute colors making way for the neon ones. Traffic lights and cars pass by the speeding metro car. There's the sound of the tracks rattling and a small moaning sound of the vehicle slicing the air. Claire's perfume curls around the space, threatening to pop the bubble of comfort that has formed in the early morning ride.

Few passengers have taken the worn out, old metro, with its gum filled floors and tattered seats. An old man in a plain shirt and a walking cane snores softly in the aisle across from Claire, hearing aid hugging his ear. A pregnant woman sits in the middle of the row of three seats, purse placed next to her, scarf wrapped tightly around her face. Claire warily eyes the young man in front of her, who fidgets with the cigarette pack in his pocket. The 'no smoking' sign hanging above them is a heavy warning.

Everything suddenly slides to a stop. There's a screeching sound and Claire can see the woman hold her purse, the young man clutch his cigarette pack tighter, and the old man touch his hearing aid. Over the intercom, a voice cracks.

Claire gets up on cue and walks out, bag banging against her thigh. No one else follows.

She walks down the sidewalk. Her boots click on the pavement as she stands behind the display windows of the currently closed shops, gazing at the trapped products. If only she could afford to rescue them…

As she walks past a shoe store, a pair of hiking boots captures her eyes. Almost immediately, her eyes flutter to a pair of red high heels next to the boots. The world before her blurs, like the winds of a tornado, and she is sucked into the past.

“Why would you want those shoes?” the girl with curly hair squealed. She tossed the boots from Claire’s grip away. Claire was left to helplessly stare at them, then look back at the girl in shock.

The curly haired girl pushed a pair of bright red heels to Claire. “Now this is what I’m talking about. Wear these, and he will be head over… well…heels, for you! You’ll be smoking hot.”

Claire reluctantly took the heels, looking at them distastefully.”But… I don’t like these-,”Her words stopped midsentence as the door to the store opened and he walked in.

Claire stops herself before she can remember what happened next. Shaking her head, she continues walking with her eyes straight ahead, staring right back at the world, silently daring for fate to try mess with her.

A clothing shop causes her to stop. In the window of the store stands a mannequin, posing with an army jacket. Claire tilts her head as she begins to take a liking to it, the way the center of it pinches in to accentuate the wearer’s waist. Her eyes fixate on the zipper of the coat and it seems as if she is blown away, into a time warp.

“I don’t like it…” Claire covered her body with the curtain of the fitting room, avoiding eye contact.

He shook his head, smiling. “You make everything look beautiful. Come out, love. Don’t be afraid.”

“You know, I’ll just buy that cute jacket I saw on the mannequin earlier. That also accentuates my waist.” Before she could turn around, he reached out and tugged the curtain away, revealing Claire in a dress that made a disco ball look dull.

“That’s the one,” he said. It appeared as if he couldn’t stop smiling. “You look amazing in it.” He looked at her lovingly. “I’ll pay.”

“That’s-,” began Claire, but he had already walked away, letting her change back into her normal clothes. Claire slowly turned around, her eyes tracing her silhouette in the mirror of the changing room. Not necessary, she had meant to say. But she sighed and sadly whispered, “…very kind of you.”

The cool wind slaps Claire back into the complexity of reality. She hurries on, to the next shop. In the window of the blue painted building, a book is carelessly propped up on the table. No other books stand beside it. Her eyes climb up to the sign stuck to the window, sadly announcing ‘out of business’. The books’ pages seem to flip in Claire’s mind, sending her spiraling back into a garden of her memories.

Claire sits on the couch, reading the first book of a series she had wanted to read in forever. She flips to the second to last page, deeply submerged in the pages that keep her entangled in the plot.

He walks over, picking her up and spinning her in the air. “How are you, love?” In a fluid motion, he throws the book away. It falls to the ground with a thud. He places a kiss on her cheek.

She frowns. “Not happy, now that you’ve interrupted my reading time. Can I have my book back?” Claire struggles out of his embrace and goes to retrieve her book.

With a smirk on his face, he picks up the book, beating her to it. “What book is this? It has your attention, and I don’t?” In a few jerky movements, he tears a quarter of the book’s pages into shreds.

Claire gasps. “Stop! Stop it!” She bends down, watching as the pieces of paper slip through her fingers like snowflakes.

Lost in her gaze, she has also lost track of time, unaware of the game of hopscotch the clock's arms have played. Claire is oblivious to the crowds slowly forming in the streets, awakening the city. She only wakes from her trance when someone bumps into her, her thoughts tumbling away like candy in a candy dispenser.

The same pregnant woman on the metro faces her, dark bangs bouncing out of her tightly wrapped hijab as she mutters a, "Pardon," and quickly walks away, shoulders hunched. Claire looks after her, curious of the way the woman nearly shrinks from the gravity of the crowd.

"Claire!"

Claire looks over her shoulder and her dark eyes widen. "Hey."

Another girl with light brown hair opens her arms for a hug and Claire answers with a big one of her own. "I'm glad to see you again. Let’s go. My boyfriend is reserving seats for us at the coffee place." Her hands release her and Claire has the chance to see the henna tattoos snaking up her hands and wrists.

Claire smiles. "That's very kind of him, Zara. Let's go."

The two walk side by side in the midst of the hurricane of people. As Zara talks away about how someone plus someone hooked up, someone plus someone broke up, someone did this and someone did that, Claire's eyes draw to the very man she saw snoring on the metro, surrounded by a commotion, the outskirts of a destructive storm.

A woman, face fully made and with a slender figure, points an accusatory finger at the man with the hearing aide. She is dressed in a glamorous black trench coat and glimmering gold jewelry. Her words stand out from those of Zara's. They are sharp and poignant, intense in a way that Zara's could never be.

"You will never make it in this world!" To prove her point, her spit flies on to the old man's shoe. He instinctively reaches for his hearing aide.

Anger flashes in Claire's eyes, but it's terrifying to believe how quickly her mind leaves the situation and narrows back on Zara, who opens the door to the coffee shop and ushers Claire in.

The atmosphere is warm and engulfs Claire in a feeling of comfort. People chatter and music spins around the shop. The smell of coffee weaves in and out between people. Posters embrace the walls. She walks to the line, Zara on her heels.

"I love your necklace, Claire!" coos Zara.

"Thanks! I..." Claire's voice trails off as she sees something before her that captures her attention.

A very familiar young man stands in front of them. The nervous motion of his hands slipping in his pockets and then abandoning the cigarette pack flicks on the switch in Claire's mind. He leans to the cashier and places his order.

Claire focuses on the cashier's face, a man of around the same age. His blue eyes flash with intrigue. She can't miss the smile on his face, or the way he blushes when the young man in line smiles back. One would be blind to miss it. A flicker of shyness passes the cashier's face as he pushes the receipt to the young man and beckons for Claire and Zara to step forward.

Zara says, "One espresso with a coffee cake please." She turns to Claire.

"I'll have a hot chocolate please," Claire tells the man. After a small scuffle of who should pay, Claire waves Zara off and inserts her card in the small machine.

The two swing over to the side, where an Asian man with a big smile pushes their drinks to them and hands Zara her cake. His name tag proudly announces his status as an employee. Zara giggles. "Hey, Eskander." The syllables are drawn out in a sing-songy tune. Eskander leans over and pecks Zara's cheek before playfully saluting Claire.

Claire gives him a warm smile before nodding at the woman behind her, waiting for them to be finished. "We should go find our seats, Zara."

Zara leads the way to a table near the window. They take their seats and Claire is just about to speak when her friend jumps up and says, "Oops, I forgot to get napkins! I'll be right back."

Claire is left to blow at her hot chocolate, still hot and burning the roof of her mouth. As she turns to look at Zara, she notices the man that was in front of them in line sitting. From the edge of her peripheral vision, Claire can notice the receipt sticking out from under his cup of coffee. A scrawled number embroiders the end of the thin paper, the handwriting sticking out from the rest of the digitally typed up print.

The young man looks dreamily at the receipt, and Claire can't help but smile at the look. It's a look of absolute hope, something Claire has never properly felt before.

"So Claire-,"

Zara's voice rips Claire out of her thoughts. Claire smiles up at her.

Zara makes herself comfortable. "So how's work going?"

"Good," Claire says. "It's absolutely wonderful, working with the city paper! Everyone at the office is so nice and supportive."

"What about your private work?" Zara asks, taking a sip of her drink. She winks at Claire.

"Oh, Zara, you know that's a secret! I'm planning on rolling in the novel when I’m done editing it," gushes Claire. "How's your job going?"

Zara winks. "The boutique is having lots of business! My mom is super into it, and she calls me her assistant even though I just help around here and there. My mom loves it. As she always says, ‘Apki shaadi ki joda kisi ko maat do, warna apki kismaat kharab ho jayanga’, or ‘It’s bad luck to lend your dress to someone else’. No wonder dresses are so important. Brides are coming in empty-handed and leaving with a dress. It's absolutely perfect! What about you, Claire? Are you daydreaming about your future wedding dress?”

Claire coughs as the hot chocolate goes the wrong way. "Zara!"

“I’m just messing with you,” Zara says, laughing.

Before Claire can respond, something makes the two stop their conversation. A group of men stand before the man the two girls were behind in the line, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Some take seats at his table. Others stand around. One of them, a tall and broad man, lowly says, "Where's our payment, Jai? You promised us last Thursday, now we see you spending it on coffee."

The young man, Jai, lowers his voice. "Come on, man, my mom just got out of the hospital. The bills are just rolling in and-,"

Claire shifts uncomfortably in her seat. It's hard to block out the heaviness of the conversation, or the desperation that lines the young man's voice.

The group laughs. "That's none of our concern, Jai. Hand over the money."

"Come on," pleads Jai. "My mom's not feeling well and my little brother needs stuff for school."

"Times are rough, Jai. Can't use it as an excuse. Hand over the money."

"I can't!" Jai's voice is raw with desperation.

The tall man from the group turns to Claire. "Is he bothering you?" He grabs Jai by the collar of the shirt.

Zara stutters. "Uh..." She tucks her hair behind her ears and looks down.

"No," says Claire loudly. "Put him down! He's not bothering us at all. You all are the ones bothering us."

The entire shop has heard the disturbance. One by one, every party makes an exclamation against the men attacking Jai. Amidst the cries of defense, the cashier hurries over and stands before Jai, prying him from the one man’s grip.

"You lay one more hand on him and you'll be kicked out of this shop and reported to the authorities," he exclaims. "Move it."

They would've gone for another attack, but the intense looks of the onlookers force them out of the store. All Claire can do is to turn back around to the cashier and the young man who are talking.

"Wow, that was... totally out of the blue," says Zara.

Claire looks at her. "Zara... I don't know. You should've spoken up."

"Claire, I know you care deeply for people, okay? But that's none of your business. You should've just shrugged it off. Now you'll be walking around the city worrying if they'll attack you," replies Zara.

Silence is a thick panel of glass. Claire is the first to shatter it. "And, um, no. I broke up recently."

Zara perks up. "With that hottie? Aaron? Did it not go well?"

Claire sighs. "I suppose it wasn't the worst relationship I've been in, but I couldn't do it, Zara. He was so intense, in a way I couldn't relate to."

"Sounds dreamy," Zara comments, taking a bite of the cake.

"But I never asked for such deep emotions. I suppose I've always been looking for someone light, someone who'd walk around life play heartedly, someone who'd help me feel indestructible when I'm already happy. I can take care of myself, Zara. I need someone who can simply be there alongside me," Claire says. She notices Zara rolling her eyes and decides to flip the conversation. "How are you and Eksander doing?"

"He’s awesome," she says, a slow grin creeping on her face.

"Really?" Claire asks.

Zara nods enthusiastically. As she goes off on a long rant about everything that's going perfectly, Claire's attention falls on something beyond the window.

The same woman with a hijab from earlier stands out from the crowd. To Claire's outright shock, two men dressed in all black lunge at her.

A small gasp escapes Claire, her hot chocolate forgotten about.

"Claire?" Zara's voice is muffled to Claire. "Claire, you're starting to act really strange today-,"

It seems as if Zara has caught on to what Claire is seeing.

"Jesus..."

The world can only appear to Claire in tunnel vision as she looks out the window. All she can see is the Muslim woman, being attacked by the two darkly dressed men. Everything is going slowly, then fast, then slowly once again. All she can see is the woman, screaming and trying to escape. Her swollen belly is something she tries to protect as her purse is pulled from her.

Claire has enough when the woman's head covering is yanked off her head. She gets up, her chair screeching in protest across the tiled floor.

"Claire, where are you going?"

"That woman needs help!" Claire exclaims.

Zara's eyes are wide. "Don't be ridiculous, Claire. You're going to get hurt!"

Claire bends down to retrieve her purse. "Zara, that woman is pregnant and barely has any muscle to fight back. I must do something.”

"Look! Look at her!"

The disbelief in Zara's voice draws Claire to come up slowly from under the table. Her mouth drops open when she sees what Zara is pointing at.

There's no evidence left of the meek, shy woman of before. Her purse is clutched tightly in her hands as she kicks her leg into the air, deflecting one of the men from coming near her. As her body twists, Claire can see her toned arm muscles and her lean legs. With an uppercut, she manages to get the other one off her, just in time before several security guards rush to the scene.

"Zara, how did she...?" Claire trails off in astonishment. When she doesn't get a response, she turns to see Zara filming away on her phone.

"That's going up on my blog!"

Claire slowly takes a seat, eyes never wavering from the woman, who now caresses her stomach. Her mind is blown, watching the lady's gentle and cautious hands stroke the top of her pink dress. Just a minute before, she'd been defending herself with precise and practiced moves, something Claire never expected from her. The woman appeared to be a being of selflessness, but she knew to defend herself.

Her eyes fall on Zara, who is texting someone. She tries to relax. "Can you believe we're going to be starting college again in just a few weeks? It went by too fast, Zara." Claire exhales. "I'm kind of scared for the future."

Claire can't help but admire the way Zara shrugs in response as she sends a message. "I'm not. I just want college done and over with so I can work full time at my mom's boutique."

Zara's response makes Claire pause.

"I'm sorry, Claire, but I'm needed at the boutique. My mom just texted me that there's an important bride coming and she wants help," Zara says apologetically. She gets up. “It was great hanging out with you. Remember to meet me at the theater on Monday. That movie is going to be awesome. I just know it!"

The two exchange goodbyes and Claire watches as Zara exchanges a hug with Eksander, receiving a small chorus of "aw"s from the waiting line.

Claire takes a sip of her drink, finishing it off with a slurp and wiping her face with a napkin. When she looks to the table where the young man, Jai, sat, she sees he's gone. No trace of him. He hasn't forgotten his cigarette pack or the receipt with the cashier's number. And perhaps he will never be seen again.

Beyond the pane of glass, all Claire can see is an ongoing hurricane of people. Every person wrapped up in their own problems, their own life story.

Many people around Claire get up to leave and the coffee shop becomes less crowded. From the corner of her eye, Claire can see Eksander signing out and removing his apron, his shift done. He gives Claire a small wave as he walks out, and Claire waves back before turning on her phone.

Several minutes pass as Claire checks her social media accounts, tapping at pictures that she likes and ignoring those she doesn’t. After a few minutes, she gets up and tosses her cup away, before going back to her seat, taking out her laptop, and pulling up the fifteenth draft of her story and working away.

Once, she looks up. She sees the man with the hearing aide sitting at the head of a table. Several people dressed in suits and holding clipboards sit around him, asking him questions and consulting their papers when his answers stop them short. His authority is as vibrant as the colors of the rainbow.

Claire is sucked deep in her thoughts. Before she can process what's going on, the screen of her laptop slams shut. She looks up and her heart skips a beat. Standing before her is Aaron, dark, demeaning, and dangerous. His fierce brown eyes flash and he slams his hands on the table, causing Claire's laptop to bounce.

"Aaron?"

He exhales. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Don't play dumb with me!" he snarls. "You waved to that guy! Is this how quickly you move on? How cold is your heart?"

Claire freezes up. "He's my friend's boyfriend, Aaron. Calm down."

He doesn't miss a beat. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" asks Claire pointedly. "We broke up, Aaron. A month ago. Let it go." She forces her laptop back into the bag.

"Can't you see I love you?" Aaron says, expecting it to come out rhetorically. "I show it to you in every possible way, but you're just blind!"

Claire huffs as she strides across the shop and shoves the door open, thrusting herself into the crowded sidewalk. To her dread, Aaron comes out behind her, hurrying to catch up. "Aaron, stop following me."

"We aren't done talking," he replies.

She turns the corner and dodges a woman on the phone. "I respect your feelings, Aaron, but I can't do a relationship right now. Please. I know there's a woman out there in the world that deserves you, but it's not me."

He's jogging to keep up. "Claire, you're the only one for me. Please just listen to me. I love you in a way I haven't loved anyone before. You're so beautiful and pure and gentle. You wouldn't hurt anybody. And I most certainly know you wouldn’t hurt me. I haven't ever met someone like that."

"Stop trying to get me to be your pretty little mannequin! I'm not pure! I'm not gentle! There are so many things out there that I've seen, Aaron, things that would scar anyone else. I've fought ugly. I've seen ugly. I've been ugly. And I don't think you get that."

"You could be my everything, Claire. I can love you like no one else ever will."

"I don't need your love! You don't get it! You are so heavy, Aaron, so heavy that you weigh me down. You are a brick, a brick that’ll continue to multiply until it towers over me. I am a dandelion. The next wind will carry me to my next destination. I'll probably grow roots, but then I'll be off again," Claire protests, climbing down the steps to the metro.

"I WANT YOU TO CHOOSE ME!" In that moment, Aaron lunges on Claire's arm, gripping her in a grip so tight that it squeezes Claire back into time.

Memories rewind into Claire's mind as the wind of the passing metro whips her hair.

A time when she was as frail as a single twig, clinging to its fellow branch for support, afraid of the consequences that’d follow for being herself.

“What’s this?”

Aaron gently touched the small charm bracelet around Claire’s wrist. Charms of all sorts dangled from the silver chain, one particularly catching his eye, one containing a little red Lego.

Claire blushed. “Oh, just a little thing…it’s- it’s nothing, really.”

He observed her, a smirk coming across his lips. “It’s-,”

“Childish, I know,” Claire interrupted, hastily removing the charm and putting it in her purse. She wanted everything to go right on this date, and she wouldn’t have Aaron thinking her immature. Claire could see the amusement in his eyes already.

A time when she didn't recognize herself.

“Are you coming, love?” Aaron called up the stairs.

“Y-yes, one moment,” Claire shouted.

“Alright, I’ll be in the car.”

One look in the mirror and Claire broke into tears, each one eager as the last to escape her eyes. The mascara Aaron suggested for her made her already long lashes look dramatic and unflattering. The red lipstick he picked out for her made her lips pop, drawing attention Claire didn’t want at the party.

“Hideous,” she whispered. More sobs followed the confession. Her eyes followed the length of her silhouette, outlined by the dress he had suggested for her. Sparkly and revealing, Claire hated it. But she wanted to prove to everyone at the party she was perfect for Aaron. Claire dabbed her face thrice with a tissue, sniffed the fresh air twice, and took one regretful last glance at the mirror as she left, into the chaos of the night.

A time when she didn't know what made her happy, what she deserved, or what her next step was.

The two lay on the ground side by side, the sound of the ocean calming them into enjoying the sunset. Colors melted into one another on the palette that was the sky. A slight wind picked up speed.

“I love you, you know,” Aaron whispered, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

A smile came across her face. “I know.” Claire’s eyes searched the sky. “I wonder where I should go now. There’s an opening for the city paper, but I don’t think they’d hire me, an amateur.”

Aaron caressed her cheek, lost in her eyes. It appeared as if he hadn’t even heard what Claire had just said.

Claire gave him a brief glance and an airy laugh. “I’m just writing over and over, every day. I don’t know what else I am to do, Aaron.” When she rolled on her side, she saw the loving way he looked at her. Claire sighed before saying, “Do you think I’m even any good at writing? Maybe I’m-,”

Her words were cut off by Aaron’s sudden kiss.

Now, something snaps within Claire. She leans in to Aaron, his breath warm on her skin. But compared to him, she is a sun, a star, a future supernova that no one can predict the ending of. Perhaps a million years, perhaps the next millisecond.

"I choose to be happy."

(Picture provided by Wix.com)