Claire
Early morning…
Claire woke with her face pressed into a pillow that smelled faintly of last night's hair oil. She groaned and rolled over, only to immediately regret opening her eyes.
Ugh…
Looking at her room, it looks like a storm had passed through it.
Clothes lay around and were scattered across her room floor. Skirts crumpled and blouses tossed over chairs. Two textbooks were on the bed beside her. One was open with pages bent from her late night tossing and turning. The other book was half buried under an empty snack wrapper. Her vanity was also a graveyard of half used lotions and tangled hair ribbons. Even the curtains across the room that let in faint lines of sunlight were crooked. One side pinned up with a safety clip she had forgotten to remove before going to sleep.
I should really clean this room up.
But today is not the day.
Her eyes drifted slowly, almost reluctantly, to the open closet.
Despite the condition of the room, there was a uniform hung perfectly straight on its hook. An ironed skirt with a university emblem embroidered at the hem. The emblem looked like a cheap knock-off of more prestigious colleges in the country. The school she attended wasn't grand, wasn't anything to be admired, nothing other than "affordable enough to earn some form of accreditation."
Every time she looked at the uniform, she felt a tug of annoyance. Like the uniform wanted more out of her than what she was willing to offer.
I don't feel like it today.
Claire thought, deciding that she wasn't going to school this morning.
It wasn't that she disliked learning or struggled in academics. In fact, she was pretty smart and picked things up quite quickly. The problem was being there. She always felt that she didn't belong. Walking into different classrooms, being surrounded by all sorts of people, but never knowing what to say. Making friends was harder for her than the classes she would be attending. Because of this, attending school became boring, and eventually she stopped attending altogether.
The thought drifted through her head uninvited, bitter and weary:
What is even the point?
The words were a mixture of giving up and numbness.
She stood, stepping over a pile of shirts, and reached into the closet, avoiding the uniform to grab a simple knee-length skirt and a soft beige blouse. She got dressed, but her hair refused to cooperate. She brushed it twice, tied it with a ribbon, then looked in the mirror and immediately regretted trying. The girl staring back had tired eyes and the faint impression of someone who'd rather be anywhere else.
She muttered to her reflection, "You could've at least tried to look alive…"
Claire walked into the hallway, stepping around a stack of mail she'd forgotten to sort. The smell of food was coming from the kitchen. Warm bread, eggs, and something herbal steeping on the stove made her stomach perk up, and with it her mood.
Elise's voice carried before Claire even reached the doorway.
"Claire, if you don't hurry, the food will get cold," Elise called.
Claire braced herself, and she stepped into the kitchen.
Elise stood at the counter in her crisp apron, short black hair with a few gray strands pinned tightly back. With a straightened posture. Her eyes flicked over Claire for just a second.
No uniform.
No bag.
And hair that looked less like a bun and more like a bird's nest.
Elise didn't even sigh. She just made a sharp tsk that always signaled the beginning of her lectures.
"So," Elise said, turning back to the stove, "I see you're skipping."....
"Again."
Claire felt that this conversation wouldn't end smoothly and tried her best to change the subject, ignoring her previous statement.
"Good morning."
"Yes, yes. Morning." Elise waved a spoon dismissively. "Don't try to change the subject. Sit down."
Claire obeyed because resistance would only make it worse. She slid into her seat at the table, trying to look smaller. Maybe that way the conversation would hopefully be short.
It wasn't.
"You think you can live like this forever?" Elise asked, plating the food
"Skipping classes? Wasting tuition money? Do you want a future or not?"
Claire opened her mouth. Closed it. Tried again. "It's not that big of a deal. I'll catch up."
"This is your first year, and you're already off to a bad start."
Claire's face frowned. She knew Elise wasn't wrong.
"I wanted you to go to school for a reason," Elise continued. "It may not be the best one, but at least it gives you opportunities for your future. A job or, at the very least, more stability."
"And maybe if you showed up once in a while, you'd meet someone and bring them home ." She said until her breath.
"Elise—" Claire's ears burned slightly red.
"What?" Elise set her plate with a thud. "I'm just saying what any sensible woman would! A girl your age should be thinking about her future family. A husband. Children. You're not getting any younger."
Claire stared at her eggs like they might rescue her.
How did we even get here, from school?
Elise pressed on relentlessly. "Men don't want a woman who can't hold a conversation. They certainly don't want one who can't be consistent enough to attend class or finish their degree."
Claire nearly choked. "I can finish it!"
"When? In your next lifetime?"
Claire sank into her seat, burying her face in her hands. She was sure her ears were glowing. "Please stop…"
"Oh, hush. Someone needs to say it." Elise softened only slightly. "You're pretty. And sweet …. Enough. Pausing like she was trying to convince herself of that fact.
"All I'm saying is that you have a whole life ahead of you, should be more mindful of your future"
She swallowed her words. They stayed trapped somewhere behind her ribs.
Elise, who looked satisfied that she'd said her piece, finally sat down with her own plate. "Now eat your breakfast."
Claire obeyed silently, poking her food with her fork
After a few minutes of quiet chewing.
The television on the counter grabbed her attention; its volume was now more noticeable. Elise must have switched it on to drain out the silence. A news anchor spoke sharply:
"…another attack late last night. Authorities believe the perpetrator may be an Irregular based on the cause of death, but information regarding the case is being kept under wraps —"
Claire froze mid-bite.
The spoon trembled just slightly between her fingers.
Elise tutted under her breath. " An Irregular? That could be troublesome for them."
Claire stared at her plate but heard every word.
"…citizens advised to avoid traveling alone…"
"…if you see anything suspicious or know any info that can help the case, please contact local authorities …"
Elise muttered, "Dangerous times. Make sure you are safe when traveling out. You are alone most of the time, which makes you an easy target . Be careful."
Claire didn't answer but nodded weakly.
Elise reached for the remote and lowered the volume. "Enough of that gloom. Don't want to spoil the breakfast."
When the dishes were cleared, Elise pulled a folded slip of paper from her apron pocket and handed it over. "When you go out, can you get these things from this list?"
Claire took it immediately.
Looking down, she read the items written in Elise's handwriting: fertilizer, twine, fresh pruning shears, and new pots.
Downstairs was a flower shop that was owned by Elise. The shop was where she spent most of her time from morning until evening, humming to herself as she watered rows of sleepy plants.
"I'll get it on my way back," Claire said, folding the list between her fingers.
"Thank you," Elise said. " And don't get dragged into trouble."
Claire offered a small smile. "I'll try."
Elise gave her a look that was half warning and half fondness, then disappeared toward the back, where the stairs that led to the shop downstairs.
Claire grabbed her light jacket and tucked the list into her skirt pocket. Stepping outside, she breathed in the cool morning air.
This was only the beginning of the day and the beginning of what was to come.