the girl who lost things

part twenty-one

— jessie's pov

I wake up the next morning and look outside. Grandma was here. I walk to her room, but she wasn't there. Maybe, she was in her office, and I was right. I could hear her chattering from behind the door. "Grandma?" I sit in silence for about a minute. " Yes, honey, come in." I open the doors; she looks stressed or distressed, one of those.

" Are you ok?" I say, playing with the metronome on her table." So you're going back to America!" She says, forcing a smile.

I respond with a smile back and hug her. " Moms of the case?" She nods and looks down at me." Your flight leaves in two hours! Go, get packed!" that's was awfully fast; she didn't even answer my question. I run into my room and pack my stuff. Making sure that I'm dressed and pampered. It's is like an 18 hours flight. In about an hour, I was ready. I drag my bags out to the front and put them in the car. I was only here for two weeks, that's good.

Grandma hops in the car and begins to drive. " What do you think mom is doing right now?" I ask her. She doesn't respond and takes a deep inhale. " What are you not telling me? Is everything ok?" I  look at her. " Your mom's still on a case, but- she'll be back soon." That's the last thing she says the rest of the ride.

We arrive at the airport and draw my bags to the line. " I love you," She says before the call my plans. She rarely says that. She's not the type to show much emotion. " I love you too." I walk down the aisle and give my luggage to the bag handler. " Seat 204," I whisper to myself, I find myself sitting next to a person around my age. I take my set and put my earphones in. The music plays and takes me to sleep.

—
I wake up and hear the PA announce something. " An hour till turkey." ahh, I forgot we had to make two stops. My stomach was growling. But I ate last night. I open a piece of gum and chew on it. I pull out my poetry book.

no one sees what you see,
even if they see it too

" you like poetry?" The girl sitting next to me says. I pull out my earphones and get a better look at her. " uh, yeah. I'm just getting into it." I smile. " you?" She continues to look at my bracelet, the red one—the one I impulsively bought because it shows your commitment to anorexia.

" Do you have an eating disorder?" She says off the bat, which just takes me by shock. Upon a closer sense, I could hear an accent very thick. Maybe; Norwegian. Her eyes were sunken, and I could see her cheekbones." I don't know." I say, feeling a bit awkward. " Why do you ask?" I try to make a small conversation. " It's obvious; we've been on a ten-hour flight, and you haven't eaten one thing and your bracelet, of course." I smile and look at her.

" I'm healthy," those words ring in my head like a bell. I am healthy. " Do you have an eating disorder?" I look into her sunken eyes.

" I'm recovering from anorexia." She smiles and takes my poetry book. maybe, Norwegians don't have a sense of privacy. " I came to Italy for treatment." She opens the first page. " It was that bad?" I feel a sense of remorse. She nods and continues reading. Then, the PA calls over the system. " Seatbelts buckled. We are landing!"

The girl closes the book. " don't make the same mistake I did. I lost 23 years of my life, worrying about what other people think." She says. By this time everybody was getting off the plane. Was she trying to scare me? I can handle myself. " Thank you," I reply. she doesn't know me.  I get my bags and exit out of the plane.

Flight 73 to Washington DC. I walk straight to the next plane and take my seat. No one yet. I plug in my headphones and listen to some Coldplay. I can't wait to see Emily; it was just an eight-hour flight. I've never been apart from her for so long.

I do remember 6th grade when I went to a retreat. Later that year, I got diagnosed with separation anxiety. So I close my eyes and get some shut-eye.

—
" Please, put your seatbelts on. We are landing!" I heard which shakes me up from sleep. I wipe my groggy eyes and look outside the window. It was a sunny city. Home. The plane lands, and I get my bags out and head to the pickup area. I was practically filled with joy. Walking, I could see the team, Derek, and the rest. I walk even faster and then stop about ten feet from them.

They didn't look happy. They looked sad. Emily wasn't there. " Where's mom?" Suddenly, my brain starts to reply itself; grandma crying looking like she's seen a ghost, me abruptly leavening and grandma saying I love you. " She's not working a case, is she?" Derek walks up to me. He shakes his head. She's dead.

Dead

" I'm so sorry, Jessie." Tears blind my sight. He reaches in to comfort me. But I pound his chest repeatedly. Fighting him; fighting the fact that she's dead. " No! No! No!" I scream. I take a few glances at the team. tears streaming down some of their faces. " no." I finally give in to his comfort and cry into his shoulders. My mom, my everything.

all that I am
or hope to be,
I owe to my
angel mother