"…Shit… it's always depressing, no matter how long I stare at it." sighed Clara Williams, staring at the miserable paycheck clenched in her hand as she walked home on that freezing winter day.
It was barely enough to cover rent and a couple of bills, and forget about treating herself to anything nice. She stuffed the crumpled paper into her jacket pocket and pulled out her Bluetooth headphones. They were the only nice thing she owned, a small luxury she had saved up for months to buy.
Slipping them into her ears, she let the music keep her company, though the bitterness lingered all the same. Along the way, she passed several couples laughing, holding hands, glowing with happiness. That stung more than the cold—a living reminder of her endless loneliness.
Clara wasn't a striking woman. Short, with a plump figure and a face marked with acne, she rarely attracted any admiring glances. Her golden eyes, which shimmered like sunlit ponds, were her only beautiful feature, but they remained hidden behind her thick glasses.
Lost in thought, she didn't see the collision coming.
Bang!
She crashed into a couple, spilling the girl's drink all over her boyfriend's spotless white sneakers.
"Shit! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Clara blurted, panic edging her voice.
"No, I'm not okay, you useless fatass! Look what you did!" the girl shrieked, shaking the soda off.
"I-I know, I'm sorry—"
She didn't get to finish. The boyfriend's fist slammed straight into her jaw, sending her sprawling onto the pavement.
The guy, furious, planted his foot on her chest, pinning her down against the concrete. A crowd began to gather, but no one stepped in. Some even raised their phones to record.
"How are you gonna pay for this, huh?" the boy spat, his face red with rage.
"I'm so sor—"
Crack!
The pain tore through her sternum like fire. Clara screamed with all the breath she had left, while laughter and whispers circled her like a cruel echo.
The girlfriend, annoyed, tugged at her partner's arm. "Let's go, Derek. The mood's already ruined."
"Uh… yeah, fine, Ash." He lifted his foot, but before leaving, he rifled through Clara's pockets and snatched the few bills she had.
"Tsk… not even enough for cheap shoes."
"What did you expect?" Ash sneered. "Look at her loser clothes. Obviously she's broke."
They walked off laughing, leaving Clara lying on the ground, gasping, her chest burning with pain and humiliation.
No one helped her. No one.
The icy pavement seeped into her skin, mingling with the warmth of her own blood. Her vision blurred, and the last thing she saw were the cell phone lights above her, shining down like mocking stars.
"…Why is it always me?" she thought before slipping into unconsciousness.