Mint Smoke

one

I lay in bed tucked carefully in a cocoon of quilts. I was warm and even comfortable, the most I've been in weeks actually, but still I felt rather empty. I got up and shuffled around the house barefoot soon I scavenged my kitchen for any food. Finally I settled on a bowl of cereal and a toast and a cup of coffee. I slipped my Nintendo DS out of my slept in jeans and flipped it open with my thumb and quickly my thumbs went to work. I was juggling a battle against Squirttle and taking spoonfuls of Honey Bunches of Oats when the doorbell rang. Which is odd because my mom and dad usually are at work by this time. I shut the game console and make my way to the door and quickly open it.

In shock I just gulp, trying horribly to get fluid to flow through my dry ass fuck throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Damon, what are you doing here?” My voice quivered and I clutched the door knob for support. Mrs. Damon and Jenna seemed so much alike I had to strain myself from flinging my body in her way and to kiss her eyelids that covered her chocolate eyes and to just brush her hair away from her face like they did in those movies, all of which I never did since I wasn’t the guy to be corny.

I admit I treat girls great you know but I’m not Prince Charming and now I just wanted to scoop my eyes because I should have been there for Jenna. I should have been that stupid prince she dreamt about as a girl.

I blinked harshly as to hold back the tears. Mrs. Damon knows and with a quick flash of her eyes she comforted me in a sense. “How are you son?” Mr. Damon spoke up. His thick bushy mustache twitching over his upper lip. I forced a smile on my lips, “I’ve been better sir and yourself?”

He nodded and that was all. Now that I think about it I shouldn’t have asked that I mean it’s been weeks since the funeral! I heard ruffling and my eyes narrowed to a small brown package that was clasped in Mrs. Hamilton’s hands.

“I’m sorry but if you came to speak to my parents they aren’t here at th-“

Mrs. Damon pulled me in to a hug and I could feel her talons rasp my neck. “She loved you greatly, you know that right? Jenna loved you so much.” Her voice both chilled and fascinated me. They were all so fascinating and I was the bum who managed to win their perfect daughter over, “I know ma’am and I hope she knew how much I love her.” My voice caught in my throat like a piece of littler would get caught in a metal gate on a windy day. They both smiled and wished me well before turning back around and then Mrs. Damon rushed to me and placed a rectangle covered in brown worn paper and tied with a black shoe string. I glanced at it pathetically and slowly retreated back into my house, my comfort zone.

I set the brown package down and tapped the edge and spun it under my finger curious of what its contents were. I flipped it back and forth on my palms and it wasn’t heavy, it felt like a book. Maybe a hundred pages or so long. My fingers soon traced the spine and all of it and finally I decided I was going to open it and so I did.

Flabbergasted I tore of the corner and then I ripped the whole thing and it felt from my clammy hands and onto the island with a soft thud. It was a notebook and on it was a messy scribble etched in the middle “Jenna Damon Clifford”. I smiled ear to ear, but at the same time my heart was breaking way beyond repair. I left the notebook there and claimed my spot on the couch and continued to play on my DS but it was as if the notebook had some magical powers because my eyes kept drifting off back to the island and it was as if her ghost was present with me on the couch and I could feel her foggy hand press my forward.

Finally I couldn’t take it and so I got up and grabbed the notebook and I plopped back on the couch and skimmed to the first page which was teenaged scrawls of every way Jenna could possibly write her name. Instinctively my thumb plucked itself between my teeth and I began to rip bits of skin off as my eyes glanced all over the pages. I flipped to the next page and a loos leaf paper fell out. I held it up and it was Jenna’s writing.

Dear Michael,

If you're reading this I guess this means-well you know- I’m gone and your probably on your couch playing Pokémon and that’s fine because that’s the Michael I fell in love with. I just want to express how happy and grateful I am to have found you Mikey. No one would have been able to put up with everything you did and true you were no prince charming but you were more than enough and there is no way I can repay you. I know this is a difficult time for you and I hope you understand my intentions with this journal.

It’s a bucket list. Yup that’s right, but it wasn’t for me it’s for you! I know you, you’re probably home eating cereal in the clothes of last night, and I know it’s a hard transaction, but bear with me.  You need to go back to normal; you need to be yourself again. There's nothing else for me to do, but I just hope and pray you follow the journal and I hope you find yourself in the way I found myself writing this to you.

I love you Michael Gordon Clifford with all my heart and soul and head-since you always said I had a big head- and with everything I have and I hope someday you move on and find your happily ever after . . .

With love,

Jenna Madison Damon Clifford

When I read the last word I was crying. God I missed her. I laughed and cried and I laughed some more, she was such a little kid and so mature at the same time, like Jenna Damon was a big orthodox wrapped in pretty cashmere sweaters and now she’s nothing but a body six feet under and it wasn’t fair.

Then I got angry, like hot flashing anger! How dare she tell me I should move on! I will heal at my own time, not when she wants me to! I felt the boiling tears stream down my cheeks as I cleared the small coffee table. All the papers and small delicate trinkets that decorated it were soon dumped on the hard wood floor. I chucked the journal away and since she first passed away I let a deep howl escaped me and it felt so good.

My scream was high pitched and it shook the whole house and it emptied me and I felt new, but it didn’t take long for the journal to weigh me back down. I gulped nervously and reorganized everything or my mum would seriously whip me. Once it was all set I grabbed the journal and shoved it deep under my bed, I had no heart to throw it. I couldn’t possibly do that, after all it’s the only thing I sort of have of her.

I smoothed over the bed sheet I had ruffled and went back to the couch and began to play a serious game of Pokémon to ease my train wreck of  a mind.

Okay so since I have so many stories i'd like to know if you'd guys want me to continue this one? :)