Kiss Her Goodbye

58

Jessie lay in bed, unable to sleep, wondering if she should tell her father about the headaches. They’d become more frequent lately, and stronger. And after all that had happened, all that she’d survived, she wondered if fate was playing the irony card, giving her a big fat tumor.

She could see the headline now: RESCUED GIRL SUCCUMBS TO BRAIN CANCER.

Get a grip, Jess. You’re overreacting.

The headaches were merely the result of tension and anxiety. Nothing more.

But she hadn’t told her therapist about them either.

Despite her brave front, Jessie wasn’t nearly as strong as she pretended to be. Or as happy, for that matter. When she could sleep, she often dreamed of her time on the other side, of the few moments she’d spent there before the paramedics had brought her back. Most of it was lost in a haze, but she couldn’t help wondering if the headaches were somehow related.

Massaging her skull, she tried wishing the pain away, but it did no good. It was bound to get worse before it got better.

Realizing this was going to be another long night, that she’d never get to sleep, she climbed out of bed and went to the dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, she dug past a few layers of panties and pulled out her secret stash: a can of air freshener and a pack of Marlboros.

Maybe she’d go for lung cancer instead.

Shaking one out, she lit up the cigarette and inhaled deeply, instantly feeling her headache subside.

Ahh. Just what she’d needed.

Exhaling, she spritzed the air with freshener and studied her reflection in the dresser mirror, noting with mild surprise how dark and lifeless her eyes looked.

It was almost as if they belonged to someone else.

Taking another deep drag, she exhaled, spritzed the air again, then slowly smiled at herself and said:

“Give us a kiss.”