In a City Like New York

Trigger warning: suicide

Miss Graham starts her day like she does every other day: she gets up, drinks her coffee on her small balcony overlooking the early bustle of New York, gets ready, takes her special belt off of her tall coat hanger puts it on, and then she’s off to work.

           Her coffee is particularly bitter this morning because she forgot to buy some more creamer at the store, but she washes the taste away by breathing in the morning air. It isn’t particularly fresh since she lives well into the city of New York, but she finds it as refreshing as she does every morning.

She’s supposes that it’s gone a bit stale, the air, but she washes that taste out with her bitter coffee. It’s a cycle she repeats, washing out the bitter coffee taste with the stale air and vice versa, all until her mug only has a few spare grounds stuck to the bottom of it. It’s a bit fruitless and functional all the same.

She shakes herself out of people-watching from her perch of her apartment, sometimes getting so lost in observing and wondering about other people’s lives that she forgot about the responsibilities of her own.

Adding her mug to the pile of unwashed dishes, Miss Graham moved through the dark of her apartment back into her room. She very seldom had the lights on, only when there was company. The lights seemed to stay off all of the time now.

She found her closet all the same, easily grabbing one of her many long skirts along with a long-sleeved shirt. She noticed how there was more of a bite in the air this morning, so she dressed to deal with the upcoming chill. She retrieved her work vest from one of the hangers as well, but she folded it and stored it away in her purse for when she’d go to work later.

She had a plan today, though, that she had to get to as soon as possible. So, after gathering her things and tying her special belt around her waist – her special belt was an heirloom long passed down from her family, and it was actually a rope from her great, great grandfather’s sailboat, but she liked the rustic and refined look it gave her when she wore it as a belt – she was off on her special mission.

Going down the elevator to the floor level with one other person in the small enclosed room, Miss Graham amused the thought of how she would start up a conversation with the stranger. She could talk about the apartment complex; she knew they had that in common. She could compliment the girl’s shoes; they were rather nice. She could even go down the path more travelled and talk about the weather; the new chill in the air was certainly something to discuss.

But then, the elevator was ringing its brash bell, letting both ladies know that they had arrived on their desired level, and the other girl was off just as fast as she came. Faltering for a second, Miss Graham stood there and wondered if she could have managed to have gotten a smile from the other girl if she didn’t think so long about talking and just talked to her. But then a few moments later, she tightened her special belt to her waist to feel more assured, clutched her bag to her chest, and she walked off and out of the apartment complex.

Growing up, making friends was always a gift Miss Graham had envied of the other kids. All she seemed to know how to do was stand there in silence and hope that someone found her intriguing enough to strike up a conversation with her. That’s why she wore her special belt so long ago, and she had merely kept it out of habit. It felt like a trademark of sorts.

Walking down the busy street filled with businessmen and women along with a few rogue, interesting characters, Miss Graham tried to keep up with the constant bustle that only belonged to New York City. She used to take in every face she walked by and think about what life they might live at home, what job they might have, what their dreams might be. It was an awfully fun game for her, sometimes being as silly as wondering if some nameless businessman’s dream was to be a professional dancer, the kind that had thousands show up to their recitals. She had tickled herself with that thought so long ago, causing a few sparse chuckles to escape her lips.

She didn’t do that much anymore; it seemed as if she had thought of every scenario possible for every face. Every now and then, a unique face would spark a new idea for that person’s life, and she found great joy in that. Today, though, everyone looked the same, so she kept her head down as she faded away into the bustle of the town.

That wasn’t important, though, because today was important all on its own. Today was her friend Jenny’s birthday. Jenny was a coworker at her job as a cashier at Big Bob’s Convenience Store. Every now and then, Jenny would end up with check out duty in the lane right next to her, and she would talk to Miss Graham sometimes. She first talked to her because of her special belt, and Miss Graham’s heart swelled with pride as she recited the history behind the heirloom she wore so diligently.

From that day on, she and Jenny would talk sparsely between checking out customers and they became friends. Jenny was quite a bit younger than her, most likely being in her early twenties as Miss Graham was nearing the edge of middle aged. It didn’t matter to her, though, she liked the youthful perspective. Jenny would say the coolest things, and she would try to work it into her vocabulary later on. She didn’t really have anyone to test it on, so she tried to slip it in as she addressed a stranger that ran into her or a worker in the lobby of her apartment complex.

Miss Graham had had friends in the past, but they never really stuck. She never fell in love with someone else that loved her, so she never married or had any kids. She was an only child, so she had no siblings or nieces or nephews either. Her parents lived down in the south, frowned upon her for moving up north, but north is where all of the people are. So Jenny is her closest friend and her only friend, as long as she doesn’t count the lobbyist that she makes small talk with sometimes late at night when he seems spaced out.

Miss Graham had gone through the files in the back of the store in the employee room and found out Jenny’s birthday, and she had been counting it down ever since. Today was the special day, and she decided to treat Jenny like the friend she is.

She stopped at the bakery, not the cheap one with bad coffee right next to the convenience store, but the expensive one across the street with a bar dedicated to fancy spices to add to the coffee. She purchased a warm croissant for Jenny, assuming that is what she would like, and left the store quickly after she paid. She felt so giddy, treating her closest friend, and she couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

She crossed the road quickly with the croissant held close to her like it was some sort of artifact, went through the front doors briskly, and immediately walked straight to the backroom where the employees hang out during their breaks. Jenny always hung out back here a bit longer than she was supposed to, either sleeping or playing games on her phone, so Miss Graham was not surprised to find her lounging around on the chairs in the backroom.

“H-Hi, hey Jenny,” she said quietly and nervously. Jenny didn’t turn around, and then Miss Graham figured out she had headphones in so she couldn’t hear her. She decided to try again.

Walking up next to Jenny tentatively, she nudged on Jenny’s shoulder until she took out her headphones and looked up at her.

“Yeah?” she asked, sounding tired.

“I, um, I got you a croissant. For your- for your birthday,” Miss Graham stumbled to say, grasping her free hand around her belt and twisting it anxiously.

“My birthday? How… How did you know it was my birthday?” Jenny asked, a puzzled look taking over her face.

“I guess I just… heard the word around the store employees. Here.” Miss Graham shoved the croissant into her lap, not wanting it to get cold. Jenny accepted it with a weirded-out look on her face.

 “Thanks Miss G,” Jenny thanked with a frown, looking at the older woman for a moment before shoving her earbuds back in and closing out the world once again.

For the rest of the day, Miss Graham just went through the motions. She put on her working vest, she went to the cash register she always worked, and she simply checked out the customers without another word.

She couldn’t really feel anything; she didn’t want to. She didn’t try to make small talk with the customers, she didn’t try to jut her hip out to get people to ask about her special belt, and she didn’t even look at Jenny for the rest of the day.

Jenny was her closest friend, and she had just realized she wasn’t Jenny’s closest friend.

She left quickly after her shift, grappling her purse to her chest after stuffing her work vest inside of it. She nervously wrung her special belt in her hands, needing something to do with her hands to relieve her stress.

When she arrived at her apartment complex, she didn’t stroll around the lobby in an attempt to make conversation with the lobbyist at that time, and she kept her head down and her lips shut for the whole elevator ride, though there was an interesting woman standing beside her.

She couldn’t seem to find the point in starting up meaningless conversations when they only amounted to what happened between her and Jenny today. So, she remained silent and finally arrived at her apartment.

The lights were still off. She wondered if she’d ever have company over so she’d have a reason to turn them on. Twisting her special belt in her hands once again, she wondered if anyone even cared for her.

Her parents frowned upon her and were reaching their final days, she never married or had any kids, she had no siblings or other family really, and who she thought was her closest friend saw her more as a weird nuisance than anything. It made her heart ache, being so lonely in such a big and densely populated town.

Still grasping her family heirloom, the old rope that she had so much pride in, she wondered what her ancestors would think of her. Surely they would disappointed, disgusted even to see such a sad and pathetic human come from their noble lineage. Miss Graham was sure of it the more and more she thought about it, and before she knew it, her gaze was fixated on her high-up coat hanger where she always hung her special belt in the dim room.

She decided to hang it for a final time.

Securing the rope around the coat hanger, she tightened the knots until she was sure it wouldn’t give. And for one final time, she put the rope around her neck, let a tear roll down her face, and hoped that her ancestors would finally be put to rest.

Her body laid there, inert and lifeless as the sun went down. And soon enough the sun rose again, over her already discoloring body, and it went down again, and it continued that cycle until three weeks had passed and the smell became unbearable. Eventually, the people who resided in the apartments next to her complained about the foul smell, and the landlord found her body later that day.

No one went to her funeral since her body was cremated as sanction by the government, her parents not wanting to claim it, and her ashes were spread along the Hudson River. Miss Graham was dead, but in a city like New York, there was too much bustle to care.