Shards of Glass

I first met Scarlett four years ago, early in the morning on a late summer's day. I had just moved in to my new flat, situated above the busy high street. The door to access my flat sat squeezed in between two shops, one a generic high street store offering an assortment of newspapers and snacks, the other a quaint yet sophisticated jewellery store. I was just leaving my front door, closing it up behind me, when the metal security doors of the jewellery store began to whine open, and I glanced over.

A beautiful black woman stood with her key in the mechanism, tapping a booted foot impatiently as the door pulled itself up at an agonising pace. Nearly as tall as me, she captured my attention immediately. Her long dark hair was relaxed and straightened, shimmering with rich brown tone in the early morning sunlight. Her features were refined, almost intimidating in their attractiveness, as though conveying a form of superiority over everyone else through nothing other than their perfect form. My gaze took in her dress, black, tight and form-fitting, revealing her sumptuous curves. Her chest was generous, the dress tight enough to show the lines of her bra through the fabric, and her hips and waist cut a dramatic figure, the lines of her body swooping in and tailoring back out into a ridiculously thick behind. Abruptly, I realised I had been staring, fingers idly on the knob of my front door, and she was now looking back at me, one eyebrow raised in...amusement? Or was she offended?

I spun around fully to her, stammering.

"G-good morning! I...believe I am your new neighbour; my name is Tim!" My voice was pitched high, and I hoped she took it for general excitement rather than the guilt of having been caught checking her out. She offered me a small smirk as the security doors finished retracting and she began unlocking the front door of her store. I struggled to force myself to admire her side profile only through my peripheral vision, as even through that vague blur it was too tempting a visage. When she jiggled her keys in the lock, my eyes betrayed me anyway, darting to the brief bounce of her chest before returning to her eyes.

"Hi Tim. My name is Scarlett." And then she had disappeared inside the door, the swish of her hair all I had to remember her by as I went about my day.

I've never been someone to obsess, or dwell over interactions. While Scarlett had made one hell of a first impression on me, I felt I had probably let myself down a bit in our first interaction, and so I put it behind me. For the next couple years, we would exchange cordial greetings but nothing more when we ran into each other, usually on those early mornings as she came and I went. That's not to say I didn't think about her, or lust after her. Every time I saw her, she was dressed to kill, always emphasising her curves and her height. I fantasised about her. I thought about going into her store, striking up conversation, attempting to rewrite whatever impression I made on her that first day, but I never did. Maybe it was my own pride, refusing to take any action that might be interpreted as an acknowledgement of my checking her out that first meeting. Maybe I was just scared.

The years passed, and I found other women to spend my time with. Sometimes I would run into Scarlett while out with them, and I always got the sense that she was sizing up my partners, comparing them to me. I wondered if she judged them for being with me. One of my girlfriends that I had through the years, Sadie, grew close with Scarlett, often going into the jewellery store to chat with her. I think that is what gave me the push I needed to actually start going into Scarlett's store, as I either had the choice of sitting alone waiting like an idiot for my girlfriend to finish up her conversation, or actually go in like a mature adult human being and join in. So I did.

The moment of me pushing open Scarlett's shop door felt a lot more momentous than it actually was. A bell above the door chimed as it swung open, and I saw Sadie and Scarlett leaning over opposite sides of the glass counter, glancing to see who came in. Sadie rushed over to me.

"Babe! I'm so glad you actually stopped by!" As Sadie threw herself at me for a hug, I couldn't help but look at Scarlett over her shoulder. She met my eye with a wry look on her face, one that I found hard to judge.

Sadie twisted her neck round while in my arms so she could speak to Scarlett.

"I've been trying to get this big lump to come check out your displays for ages! He's been so awkward about it!" My face begin to burn as one of Scarlett's eyebrows rose, and this time there was no doubting the mocking expression on her face.

"I think he checked them out way before you entered the picture Sadie, and found my wares out of his league. Poor Tim probably just felt awkward because of that." I burst into a fit of coughing, Sadie turning to thump me on the back out of concern.

"Aw babe, are you okay? You've gone bright red, you need to step outside?"

What about Scarlett made me turn into such a buffoon? She thought she was better than me, that much was clear, but why did I have to go about proving her correct so effectively? My coughing slowly morphed into bitter laughing, because what else could I do? Eventually I managed to collect myself as Sadie looked on, full of concern, and Scarlett stared at me with something like a challenge to her gaze. Fucking hell, she was intense.

"Sorry about that, I don't know what came over me. Thanks babe. Hi Scarlett, busy day huh?" I couldn't resist getting a bit of a dig in to try to wrestle back some measure of dignity. The store being this empty of paying customers very much seemed to be the norm from what I had seen. Glancing around at the price tags of various pieces on display, it made sense why it was never busy. Hardly anyone around here could afford such exorbitant prices. It really did not surprise me that Scarlett demanded so much for her selection of goods. Everything about her screamed "I'm better than you, and you should know that." The prices were just another way for her to stamp down her authority.

"Oh you know, I'm getting by okay. You aren't in work today?" Something about the way she said it rubbed me the wrong way, as though she were one upping me. Maybe she thought I didn't have a job at the moment. I tried not to sound smug as I replied.

"Oh no, I took the day off to spend with Sadie. We've got lots of fun planned." I wriggled my eyebrows at Sadie as I tacked on the last bit, causing her to blush and burst out an incredulous "Baaaaaaaabe!" I didn't try to hide the smirk on my face. Scarlett's features had darkened slightly, and I delighted in being able to annoy her so easily.

From that day on, I made it a point to stop by Scarlett's store now and then to trade barbs and back-handed compliments. I wanted to prove to her that I wouldn't be intimidated. I think for her, at first, it was as simple as letting me know my place. It became a game of sorts between us, a back-and-forth of wit, and over time it even felt like respect entered the equation. I noticed that Scarlett would pull her punches a bit if I ran into her after a long day, and I sometimes repaid the favour by taking it easy on her.

My relationship with Sadie deepened, and grew more serious, and after about a year I decided to get her something nice for Valentines Day. Where else would I look for something extravagant than in Scarlett's store?

It was a dark, gloomy day, wind whipping around freezing rain, when I entered the shop. The bell chimed, but no one stood behind the counter. I shivered as the door swung shut behind me, and rubbed my arms to try to get some warmth back into them as I began to examine the glass display cases lining the store.

"I'll be out in one moment!" Scarlett's voice echoed out from the back of the store. I took the time to look through the various necklaces, earrings, and rings on offer. Part of me couldn't believe I was about to spend this much at once, yet...I wanted to show Sadie that I cared, that I would not only take care of her, but I would treat her and surprise her.

I opted not to get a ring after spending a few moments looking them over. It wasn't that there weren't any that caught my eye, more that I didn't want to mislead Sadie into thinking I was proposing. I was pondering the necklaces when Scarlett emerged from the back.

"Oh. It's you."

I turned and offered her my own raised eyebrow.

"Try to sound happier to see me, Scarlett. I am a paying customer after all." I gestured at the necklaces I had been perusing.

"Sorry Tim, it's just that I-wait..." Her brow furrowed. "Paying customer? You've never bought anything from me in your life!"

I laughed and wraggled a finger at her.

"Ah, but there is always a first time for everything! I'm looking for something for Sadie."

Scarlett's eyes seemed to bulge for a second, then she was rushing around the counter to come stand beside me.

"Seriously? Because I swear if this is one of our jokes Tim, I'm genuinely going to be upset." I actually believed her. For the first time, I could see actual vulnerability in Scarlett. Her emotions were much closer to the surface, the untouchable façade transparent, and actual nervousness was showing in the way she fidgeted with her dress, picking the tight material away from her side with her fingers as she stared at me.

"I'm being serious Scarlett. Think you could help a fella out? I'm pretty clueless when it comes to this type of thing. I want to get Sadie a necklace for Valentine's." And, just like that, with the barest smidgen of reassurance, Scarlett switched back into boss-mode. She straightened up, tilted her chin up slightly, and transformed into the bitchy know-it-all I had come to know as a friend.

"Well, what's your budget? And do you know what she likes?"

I shrugged.

"See, that's where I was hoping you'd be able to help me out. I know I can't afford anything more than these ones," I gestured at the display next to us. "But I have no idea what Sadie, or women in general, like. I was going to ask which necklace you would most like to receive, then I'd get that for Sadie."

A bit of nervousness re-entered Scarlett's expression.

"I'm not sure that's how you should pick something. It should be personal to you, and your relationship. I'd feel uncomfortable making that choice for you."

I paused. It made sense. I hadn't meant to put her so on the spot like that.

"Well, Sadie has been in here a lot. Has she ever hinted at her taste in jewellery?" Scarlett shrugged, then paused, a thoughtful look coming over her. She pushed past me, and I couldn't help but notice her breasts brushing against me as she looked over her selection. I shook my head, suddenly noticing her voluptuous form again, and stepped back to put some distance between us.

"Actually, I have noticed she compliments the golden stuff more than anything else."

I beamed at her.

"Great! That's already narrowed it down a lot."

Bending over to examine the gold necklaces in more detail, I asked Scarlett another question.

"So, are there any you think would compliment Sadie well? Based on, I don't know, matching her eyes or something? But she has brown eyes..." I trailed off.

Scarlett began to point, hesitated, then shook her head and pointed at a necklace nearer the back. It had a small amber pendant swinging from a gold chain.

"That one?" I asked.

"...Yes. I think she would really like that. It's also the one I...would have asked for. Hypothetically." This was the most demure I had ever seen her behave, but to be honest I didn't really care enough to make a joke at her expense. I had gotten what I came for.

"Great! I'll take it! I can't wait to see her face!"

As it happened, all that effort for Sadie had been for nothing. Come Valentine's Day, she sat me down and explained to me that she felt that she was settling down too quickly, too soon. She wanted to see what was out there while she was still young, to date around, and have fun. I tried to plead with her that we were having fun as we were right now, but it didn't make a difference. Her mind was made up. She broke up with me.

I was completely blindsided by our breakup. It came at a time when I was ready to begin entwining our lives together more consciously, to commit, and to show her what she meant to me. I spent a long time struggling afterwards. I wondered if I had missed any obvious signs. I mean, I must have done, right? No one can be as unhappy as she was in our relationship and not have it picked up on by their partner, unless said partner wasn't paying attention. I wracked my brain, sifting through memories, torturing myself with warm emotions turned scalding, burning my soul. I could never think of any one definitive instance, one moment, where I could point to and say "That was a sign". I think that lack of evidence, of true closure in the form of self-examination and the subsequent bettering of oneself, hit me hard.

I ended up quitting my job. I just didn't have the energy to keep getting up, keep going out. Winter turned into spring, yet I did not notice the blossoms in the trees, nor the shoots of flowers punching up from the dirt. I withdrew, confining myself to my flat. I ended up on benefits, receiving money from the government to help me out while I looked for a new job. I went to the jobseekers meetings, spoke to my work coach, but it was as though I had ceased to really exist. I spoke only so that I could get to the end of conversations faster. I looked for work half-heartedly, knowing that I could not face going back to an environment with so many people so soon. Spring turned to summer, and I weathered the scorching droughts in my little flat, curtains drawn to bar out the light, reluctant to look out at a world that had become grey to me.

In this time, I realised that I valued myself based on how others see me. I didn't take the break up so hard because of losing Sadie per se, more that the abrupt nature of the break up caused me to question myself. I felt that I had lost the person whose opinion I cared about most, that I wasn't good enough to keep her. I felt without value. What could I offer anyone that they couldn't get from somewhere -- or someone -- else, but better? Why even bother, if all I will ever do is disappoint people and get left behind?

In all this time, I did not see Scarlett. When I did leave my house, it was either for a jobseekers meeting or for groceries. The former would normally be at a time when I wouldn't run into her, and the latter I would normally set out to grab at night, when I was least likely to need to interact with anyone else. It wasn't that I didn't want to see her, specifically. I just didn't want to see anyone. I wanted to fade away, to not feel anything at all, and part of me was scared that Scarlett would draw me too close to the world of the living. The thrill of seeing her, playing our little back-and-forth game, the teasing and the respect that had entered our friendship; the thought of it all sickened me. I didn't want to feel my heart begin to beat again. The more alive I felt, the more I would have to face my pain, my loneliness. And if I saw her giving me respect -- or worse, pity -- I would feel ashamed. How could I face her again after that?

So it was that summer passed, and autumn came again, and the leaves on the trees withered and fell, and darkness encroached more on the days. I slept through them now, no longer pretending to keep to a semi-normal routine, simply seeking to hide behind a wave of unconsciousness from my depression. It was late November when I was stirred from my hibernation.

It was in the early hours of the morning, and I lay wide-awake, staring up at my ceiling. I wasn't thinking of anything really, I was just...there. I spent most of my nights like this. Suddenly, I heard the smashing of glass, and an alarm began blaring out.

The sound reached beneath the surface of my mind, beneath the dark inscrutable waves of my thoughts, echoing through the water my self drowned in. It pulled me, like a rope, tugging me insistently towards the surface with every blaring repetition of the alarm. As my consciousness rose, I became aware of the painful thoughts swirling around the upper-most layers of my mind. Through it all, one thought kept coming back. The sound of the glass shattering. That was important.

It took me a minute to figure out why. Scarlett's store. Was someone breaking in? I found myself sluggishly pulling myself up to my feet, like a giant stirring from beneath the earth after slumbering for eons. I made my way slowly down the stairs, feeling dizzy. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten. My vision seemed to narrow, blackness pressing in from around the edges. Somehow, I managed to make my way unsteadily down the stairs, to the door. I opened it and peered out.

A man, dressed all in black and clad in a balaclava, was carrying a bulging bag from Scarlett's store to a van. From within the store, the sound of glass smashing continued to scream out into the night. I pushed open my door, not even really thinking about what I was doing.

"Hey!"

The man with the sack stumbled, and a spray of jewellery flew onto the pavement, gold and silver and gems of every colour of the rainbow. The man spun around.

"Who the fuck are you?" He spat, and the sound of his voice seemed to boom in the night.

"That's not yours." I said. I still wasn't really thinking straight. I should be calling the police, right? But I hadn't thought to grab my phone before coming downstairs.

The man laughed. "Yeah, wonder how you figured that one out. Real genius you are. What are you going to do about it?"

It wasn't that his tone or words made me angry really, so much as it reminded me of the way Scarlett used to needle me. I didn't particularly care about how dumb I was being, or how dangerous this situation was. I just didn't give a fuck at all in that moment, about anything, except for the fact that I liked Scarlett and this guy in front of me was trying to steal from her.

I stepped forward to the guy and grabbed the bag.

Like I said, I wasn't really thinking straight.

A short tug of war ensued, more jewellery spilling out onto the street, before the man realised he didn't have to play this stupid game with me, and he simply released the bag with one hand and proceeded to punch me in the face with it.

I blinked up at the stars, confused. My hands clenched and unclenched. I wasn't holding the bag anymore. I sat up, and pain flooded into my head, almost flooring me again immediately. I felt like I were seeing the world through the hole in a straw, so constricted was my vision. I managed to swing my head around to spot the man -- no, men, there were two of them now -- loading up the van. I had to do something. I pushed myself up unsteadily, the world seeming to wobble the higher my head rose, my body swaying beneath me. I stumbled forward, towards the van. I knew I couldn't fight them, but I couldn't let them just take everything.

One of the men pointed at me, and the other turned, then they were advancing on me. One had some sort of metal bar, and he swung it at my legs. I crumpled to the floor, and then they were raining kicks and punches down at me. I curled into a ball, shielding my head as best I could as the beating went on.

I almost didn't realise when they stopped hitting me. I heard the engine of the van start up, and I raised my head enough to watch it pull away. I rolled onto my back, coughing, then twisted back onto my stomach to throw up. An absent part of me noted the red in my vomit, but my mind was elsewhere. I had to concentrate, stay awake.

I am not sure if I succeeded, but when I became aware of flashes of blue light above me, and a voice just beyond my consciousness, I found myself still repeating the one thought I had held onto since the beating.