Fandoms: Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town

Summary:

How I imagine Claire's life was like before she received the letter from her grandfather containing his will, and before she purchased the farm in Mineral Town.

Ψ

"I'm sorry…"

Those were the words Claire uttered that late evening near a small café in downtown Columbus, just a block away from a busy intersection where she worked. Despite this awkward encounter, there was safety knowing she was within eyesight and hearing of strangers.

This entire situation was suffocating, rushed, and not to mention overwhelming. It wasn't shocking this happened. She was too trusting of him, and he was everything but sincere. Tricked and humiliated enough for one day, she needed an escape. But he was unmoving, his eyes glued to her as if she'd done him an injury.

Unable to hold his gaze, she lowered hers. "Sorry. I'm not ready for a relationship…" She lied. Not that she detested him. They were coworkers. Nothing more. If he would only nod and turn away without making a scene, then she would be so thankful. But his scowl said otherwise.

Please. Leave me be. I want to go home and lay down.

"You keep saying that, Claire," He replied, resting his hands on her shoulders. "But you're acting too cautious. Relax and give it more thought. I admit, I might have come on too strong. You're a beautiful girl. Can't blame me for that. Can you?" He joked.

His name was Robert, a friendly and nerdy guy she met after beginning her job at the bakery; they both started working around the same time. Similar to herself, he also left home, but as for his personal life, he kept that secret. In fact, there wasn't much she knew about him.

He was someone she relied on when dealing with stubborn customers and bickering management. He never failed to cheer her up, and it left a deep impression on her. Not surprising her feelings complicated matters, and she was in this mess. Confused, anxious and over all unhappy.

"Claire,"

When she didn't respond, he clicked his tongue. "Don't tell me you thought our kiss meant nothing?"

Guilt overcame her. "It … was a mistake. Let's forget it ever happened."

"Forget about it? You let me come onto you!"

She was aware of the curious onlookers glancing in their direction, but she still couldn't find her voice. The kiss they shared a week ago remained fresh in her memory, and she regretted it. But it helped her realize something. She didn't want a relationship. Not one that was uncomfortable.

A noise sounded from his throat, his eyes darkening beneath his brunette fringe, and with his hands pressed into his pant pockets, he turned away, disappearing into the sea of passerby's. Her heart sank with his scowl, but relief followed. Brief as it was, it allowed her to breathe again, and turning down the opposite street, she proceeded home.

No sooner had she crossed the road, the sidewalk less frequented, she noted the flickering lights overhead, the gloominess of the evening loud and buzzing. And yet, she couldn't shake her paranoia. Claire glanced toward the shadows of the trees, all while climbing a steep hill.

At first, she thought it was only the wind making those noises, shifting the yellow orange leaves on the ground, but it was more than that; there was a shuffling footsteps and a person with his hood shrouding their identity. She quickened her stride, fear rekindling at the ever-present nightmare following.

The scene was anything but pleasant. This wasn't the first time a stranger followed her. As hair-raising as that sounded. She risked a glance, hoping to glimpse the person's face. But she saw nothing. All she heard were footsteps, accompanied by heavy breathing.

On the verge of hyperventilating, her steps became faster and unsteady as she reached into her purse. There had to be something that could help her out of this situation. Her hands touched various accessories within, some she recognized as key chains and lip balms.

Come on! Where is it?!

Claire's name whispered far too close for comfort, and it sent a chill down her spine. She pretended to hear nothing. And to her relief, she saw the apartment structure in the distance. Not only that, but she spotted the security guards doing their rounds, their flashlights lighting the front perimeter. She was almost there.

But a hand seized her from behind, pulling at her hair, and her back collided into her captor's chest. His free arm swung around with a box cutter, and it was only then that she found what she was searching for. A screamed tore through her, so loud it would alert others. And when he recoiled in surprise, she turned and sprayed that bottle of pepper spray into his face.

Moments after, he released her, and she fell to her knees, crawling as this unimaginable fear overwhelmed her. Shaken to the bone, she struggled to stand, a whimper sinking her into the ground. All she felt were those cold fingernails scraping against her scalp, and she cursed her unmoving legs.

When she regained her standing, her captor howled in pain. The familiarity in his voice startled her, and while he staggard in place, blade forgotten at his feet, she saw it. The familiar overcoat, and then his russet eye glaring back at her from between his fingers. Red and throbbing.

Robert.

She turned, her steps quickening, and when the guards approached, she flailed her arms. Relief overcame her when they neared, and through frantic stuttering, she explained the situation., he disappeared, knife and all.

Regardless, the young officers believed her, and she was a mess of waterworks. When they arrived at the station, they asked if she wanted to file a report, and if she suspected the identity of her attacker. Claire confessed all that she knew, and he became a suspect in the files.

After that, an officer drove her back to the complex, and after sending her appreciation for the late-night drive, she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside.

Σ

The moment she stepped inside, her jacket sliding off her shoulders with numb ease, and approached the kitchen counter and rested her head upon its cold-surface. All the while, the tears wouldn't cease. However much time had passed since she crumbled into a fit of uncontrollable sobs, she wasn't certain, but she calmed herself. All of this happened because she grew careless, and it was her fault.

I guess I was foolish thinking we were friends.

Better judgment warned her to get away as soon as possible. Who would have guessed that something of this magnitude would pass because of a rejection? All she wanted was to live a peaceful life, to earn her own way-of-living. Instead, she was hiding in fear.

When I dreamed of making it big, I never imagined this. I should have listened to my parents and stayed home…

With a heavy sigh, she touched her head, recognizing the beginnings of a migraine forming. Soon enough, she lifted herself from the chair and reached over the sink for a bottle of painkillers. She needed a Tylenol. Anything would suffice. She was having so many headaches, and there was too much stress in her life. Maybe a vacation was in order.

Claire's eyes fell upon the assortment of newsletters scattered on the dinner table. She hadn't looked through today's bills yet, and with hours cut at work, she knew she couldn't afford the rent. Although exhausted and sore, she eyed to the mass of letters on the table. A particular note stood out from the rest.

"Under construction renovations…" She said aloud. Her eyes squinted at the tightly squeezed words. It was a letter, the handwriting sloppy like usual.

The result would force tenants from their apartment rooms temporarily. The only good news was that everyone's rent decreased for the month. Where would she afford somewhere so cheap?

"Why? Why is this happening to me? God, give me a break already!"

A noise blared into the dimly lit room of her space, and she stared at the phone hanging on the wall. There was hesitation in her gaze, her anxiousness warning her to ignore it and get some sleep, but she defied those thoughts, and reached for it.

"Claire, honey, is everything alright?"

Hearing her mom's voice eased her frustrations, and trying her best not to cry, she forced a smile. "Sorry. I've been getting hours these days. I got home a moment ago. How are you and dad?"

"We're fine. But are you sure you're all right? You sound as though you've been crying."

As much as she tried to hold back the tears, they threatened to fall once more, and with it, a sob tore from her throat. She heard the concern in her mother's silence as she poured her heart out to her, revealing all that had transpired and how frightened she was.

"I'm so sorry I can't be there for you. It would be unreasonable for you to go back into work after something like that, in fact, it won't settle right with your father and I leaving you there. Why don't you come home?"

She paused and thought about it. There was no harm in readjusting herself anyway, and once everything settled down, she could start all over again. It seemed like a reasonable idea; there was no telling how long it would take for the police the catch up with Robert wherever he was now. She hoped he wasn't lingering nearby to stab her in the back; that was a possibility.

"I think that would do me some good. It's been a year since I last visited. I'm sorry, mom…"

"Why are you apologizing? You didn't ask for any of this. Don't worry. Do you have enough for traveling expenses?"

"If not, I can catch a boat. They're not that expensive," She explained.

"Call me before you leave, alright? Make sure your doors and windows are all locked and keep the curtains shut, Claire. We love you."

"Love you too. Good night."

How could she go into work tomorrow? With the police on this investigation, it wouldn't be long before her manager knew the situation. He would lose his job. For the time being, she could always look for employment overseas, or even help with the family's business.

As her eyes shifted towards the closed curtains of the window, she sighed once more. It was well after midnight, and she was far too exhausted to do anything else, let alone pack. Instead, she returned to her room and fell onto the soft mattress. Everything could wait until then.

Σ

Awakening to the sound of her phone ringing, she cocked an eye open, but she was too comfortable to move. It was dark, except for the light peeking through the curtains. She was too tired. Whoever was calling so early in the morning had other plans on their agenda.

"Shut up…" She cried, her voice muffled beneath the pillow. And it did. But last night's events sprang to the forefront of her thoughts, and another groan escaped her. She couldn't sleep.

I've never had a breakdown this rough before. Maybe I should start packing my things and give mom and dad a call…

A warmth filled her cheeks, and feeling a familiar wetness bubble to the surface, she sat up. No. She wouldn't cry. Last night had seen enough tears. Instead, she slipped on her slippers and proceeded out of her room. With her steps slow and her eyes half closed, she decided a nice breakfast would clear her mind of things. Too bad it was stale bread and rotten bacon; she was even out of eggs.

She settled on a glass of sweet tea before turning to the answering machine by the table. There were five unread messages, and she paused a finger above the play button. Somehow, she was unsettled to press it, but before she could, the phone rang, and she pulled away in surprise.

The color ID read Bakery, and she answered it. On the other side, her manager's distressed voice sounded in her ear, and she offered an apology for not showing up on time.

"I'm just relieved you're alright, Claire. Don't worry about coming in. We received a call from the police early this morning about what had happened. Are you doing ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks for checking up on me. I was about to call here. Things aren't going well for me. Also heard from my landlord that the entire apartment complex will undergo construction, and they are forcing me and a lot of others to leave… It just seems to be one thing after another."

"If you need somewhere to settle, Claire, you can bunk at my place. I have an extra room. And you needn't worry about Robert. I doubt he'll show his face around here. They will catch him."

"Thanks. I might stay with my family overseas, so for now, I'm going to call it quits at work and find another job there. Besides, I've been meaning to visit them for a while, anyway."

"Don't let what happened keep you down. Take care of yourself and call me whenever you need to."

Since flying or taking expensive boat cruises was well beyond what she could afford, she searched some reasonably priced sites online. With a little perseverance, she found tickets for a one-way cruise from Maryland. The images displayed a small cabin, and it was large enough to accommodate quite a few passengers. There were still openings. Thank god.

Although pleased with this affordable discovery, she checked google maps on her iPhone to estimate the overall distance. A seven-hour drive. Not including construction or traffic. It was valid until tomorrow morning, and she purchased the ticket.

A notification went off, and after reviewing the receipt, she approached her room. From there, she only packed the essentials, such as clothing, soaps and shampoos, hygiene products and other minor things. An hour passed before she closed her luggage, its bulky form lying upon her bed.

"It will take at least a week before I reach my family. Here's to a better future, Claire…"