Plant New Seeds | H.S.| AU

Chapter One - The One Day

N I A

I didn't know having one perfect fucking day was too much to ask for.

The one day it's pouring out was also the one day I decided to leave my umbrella at home. After a long day of taking on the weight of hundreds of other people's issues, a little sunshine on my skin would have been greatly appreciated. I watched as the rain puddled the corners of the windowsill from behind the warmth and security of my job's lobby. The choice to wait and see if the rain would lighten its load only further proved how unlucky I was; it was as if the Gods above punished me for being so optimistic and made it rain harder.

The sun was the only thing I looked forward to these days; the heaviness it left on my skin as it seeped in deeper the harder it shined distracted me from the heaviness of my heart.

The warmth of it felt like the touch of someone's fingers grazing across my body lovingly, filling me up with reassurance that it would always make me feel the way it did. A concept that was foreign to me in any other realm, and always will be.

People couldn't keep their promises like the sun. People were more like the moon: cold, inconsistent in its shape and intentions, and gave off the appearance of light until you realized how rough it is on its undulating surface. Fooling you with its brightness until you realize that it only seemed so bright because it was the only option for light you had.

After a draining twenty minutes of playing the wait and debate game, it was time to man up and let the Gods win this battle. I inhaled deeply, dropped my head down low, and threw my body against the door to open it. Once I stepped outside, the thickness of the humidity smacked me in the face and forced me to let my breath go. Unfortunately, today was also the one day I chose to wear my new pair of white Crocs.

Running through the crowded streets of Harlem would already be a mission in itself; now I had to do it while my feet were floating around in a nasty mixture of feet sweat and water. My drenched hair leaked all the way down my neck and back, tickling me with each trickle down my spine. The pungent smells of trash that normally filled the streets were now heightened by the smell of rain combining with it.

But I had to ignore all of that—my train would be here in five minutes and I had to get a seat. The commute from Harlem to Brooklyn was a little over a hour and I couldn't bear the thought of standing for at least half of the ride. Being forced to be around a crowd of people was one thing, standing up in the middle of the train and being the center of attention was another.

I picked up the pace, not giving a damn about who I bumped into or what I stepped in. The bright white light pole that stood next to the entrance of the C train station became closer with each stride. I couldn't remember how, but somehow—I made it down the stairs, got through the turnstile and on the platform seconds before the train pulled in.

I felt every single set of eyes on me. I was dripping wet and panting heavily while everyone else was completely dry and irritated from the overcrowded area. I pretended not to notice, feeling the brief relief of dryness the breeze from the train pulling in provided.

My hair, thicker and frizzier from the humidity, flew back as I closed my eyes and relished in it. My Crocs squished against the rubber yellow strip of the platform, creating an obnoxious squeaking sound that earned me a few annoyed glares.

The stale, dry air of underground made me realize just how drenched I actually was. The breeze slowed down little by little and the rumbling of the cars caused the ground underneath me to shake as the train got closer. Looking into the windows of the various cars as it slowed down, all my hopes of having a seat were a thing of the past.