Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.❞
-Dr. Seuss
🚗 JAXON 🚗
I almost missed out on thanksgiving. But more importantly, I was more concerned about the heaping amount of my assignments. The deadline to drop classes were upon us. I couldn't catch up with the time left, so I dropped all of my classes except for Psychology. I emailed him in advance, and he was nice enough to give me extensions on everything. The others weren't as nice so I was left with no choice. With the surgery approaching, I wanted to have my mind clear when I entered the recovery stage.
"That's smart of you to do that ahead," Salma said. She had her hand on the small of my back, making small circles with her hand in a way that made me want to curl up in a ball beside her and pull her in closer. "Are you excited for Christmas to roll by? Any fun plans with your brothers?"
I expelled a soft sigh, not saying anything at first. Rubbing my hand against the back of my neck, I started to think that far into the future. "I didn't realize it was that close."
"It crept on me too out of nowhere."
"Can I be honest?"
"Sure."
"It doesn't feel like Christmas to me." I divulged, raking my head in thought of what could possibly transpire at the Miller household. "I'm not excited. The Christmas feeling isn't even partially on my mind."
"It's not that it 'doesn't feel like a Christmas" you just haven't felt happy since you were ten."
"Jokes on you, I wasn't even happy at ten."
"Clink clink to that," she chuckled, pretending to touch fake champaign flutes together. "I want to bake something for the house, but other than that, I can't imagine whipping up an entire Christmas dinner."
"If I say I'll help, then would you consider it?"
She broke out into a genuine smile, one that made you feel like you were the only person in the universe she looked at like that. Salma had a knack for doing that, making you feel significant and listened to. She was hard to get close to at first, being reserved and standoffish at times, but once you cracked the outer shell of her demeanor, she really was an open book.
In that cold, dark lit room, seeing that smile of hers was my form of hope. She was my particular kind of medicine, the miracle that made me want to keep on living. I wanted to kiss her just then, seeing her smile at me from ear to ear. More precisely, I wanted to make love to her. But we both knew that wouldn't take place tonight.
"I would love that," she said, touching my hands to hers. "Are you tired or do you think you've got energy to take a shower? I'm sure you're dying to get washed up."
"Are you offering to join me in the tub?"
"No, you idiot," she slapped my arm, "I'm not."
"It's a tempting proposal."
"Only to you."
"I'm sure you'd enjoy it." She burst in laughter and God, I swore I could see the sun from the brightens of her teeth. They were so immaculate, so blinding it made you fall in love with the mere act of grinning. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world."
"How can you say that?"
"How can I not?" I second. "Ok, sure, I may not have a passport, so I'm not inclined to say I've seen every girl in the world. But I don't want to travel any further. I've seen enough by just seeing you."
I held on the wheels of my chair, starting to push, but a sensation on my back stopped me. It was Salma, standing to my side.
"On second thought," she said meekly, "I'll take you up on that offer."
***
The wind was whistling in my ear, and despite that, I was still ready to jump.
My breathing was steady, unlike my fingers. They were sweaty and trembling, gripping the damp material of my faded stonewashed jeans. So much of me had planned for this moment.
The collision in which my skull would meet the concrete.
Disregarding that, I didn't picture the aftermath or the bloody conclusion of my brains splattering on the streets of Dallas. Washing the image out of my head, I was anticipating the fall. Longing for it like a desperate kiss after a whimsical first date.
"Jaxon?"
I shook once at the sound of my name.
"Jaxon," the voice came out of nowhere this time, behind me before and now ahead of me. It was louder than it was at first, demanding to be heard. "J—!"
The rooftop had vanished and nothing about my surroundings seems the same.
One moment, I was on the top of an apartment complex, wishing away my senior year in college as I contemplated the jump. It was a fifteen-story building—or at least felt like it. Instantly, I would've died and met my bittersweet end. The vision disappeared as soon as it arrived, rushing my mind into the space of my bedroom. I was sweating up a storm, sinking into my pillow with half my head lodged on Psychology textbook that was too expensive to even breathe on – let alone nap on.
"You ok?"
It was all I can manage to make out when my eyes fully made sense of the space around me. Salma was dancing in circles around me, touching my scalp and removing my notebook off the bed. For a second time, she asks if I'm okay, and this time I open my mouth to answer.
"How long was I out?"
But deep down, I'm asking myself something else.
Why did it feel so good to almost kill myself? And why does that sensation still overpower me, wanting to find a way to jump?
