Riders on the storm (engl.)

Part 3- waiting for the sun or the negative

„Are you fucking gone mad, Mirjam? How could you drive like that?" I hear Lynn barking.

„Moon..." I gnarl.

„To hell with this stupid name! You could be fucking dead! You ARE almost dead!"

What's going on? I try to open my eyes. My lids are heavy as tombstones. Am I still dreaming?

„Mrs. Sanders. Will you please be quiet, your friend should sleep," a smooth baritone voice demands.

I manage to finally open my eyes. The beautiful, grey eyes of my best friend are staring back at me.

„No...I slept enough. What...?" I mumble.

Lynn answers: „You crashed your damn car again. Of course they revoked your license, hun. That was too much!"

I moan and lay back. My head hurts like hell. Lynn doesn't stop: „Why did you drive drunk? I know that diagnosis was hard to accept. But...have you tried to kill yourself?"

„Diagnosis?" I whisper.

„Breast cancer. You texted me yesterday that your probes were malignant. I tried to call you back, million times!"

I close my eyes again. Now I remember.

I never wanted to see Lynn. I wanted to drive to a quiet and forlorn place somewhere in the desert. And there I would have taken Ben's sleeping pills and drank a whole lot of booze to bring my life to an end. Yes, I remember I already started drinking at home. And then I met Jim Morrison. And Alex Turner. And...Ben. I want to go back! Why didn't it work out?

„How high was my BAC? And...any other substances in my blood?" I murmur.

„Too high, something 'bout 1.3 %. You're in big trouble, hun. And they found Ben's pills in your car. Why did you keep them?"

I shrug. Lynn sighs.

„Mirjam, this is sick. Stop making Ben your god of everything, just because he gave you a few good orgasms. Forget him! Focus on yourself! On your fucking health, love!"

She has tears in her eyes and pulls a strand of hair out of my face. I sob.

„It's all over, Coby. I'm done! Kids don't want to see me anymore. Jackson and Caty will have a baby. And I'm going to lose the only feature of me what makes me desirable at least."

Lynn- who I sometimes call Coby, because she loves Kurt Cobain- is shaking her head angrily.

„Your fucking curves are not making Mirjam Mirjam. You would be a wonderful human being if you'd stop drinking and chasing a phantom guy. Just let Ben go!"

I moan again. My head is killing me!

„I...try. Nurse, can I have some painkillers?" I ask the young woman who's checking the monitors.

She looks at me disparagingly.

„They won't work with addicts. I'm sorry."

She leaves. Lynn explains: „Hun, they don't like you here. You nearly hit a camper with little kids. Thankfully you didn't. And who knows what could have happened if..."

„I didn't want to kill me in an accident, Coby! I lost control!" I tremble.

Lynn whispers: „I know, I know. Too well."

She was my client, a long time ago.

„Mirjam! My lovely child!" I hear my mother shout in desperation.

She enters the room and behind her a grey haired professor, my dad. Mother's ranting: „I told you, this car will kill you someday! And you helped her buying it, Ulf! Look at my poor child now!"