My Life with Death

986/12 Garrison Avenue, Davis Creek, Charleston, January 8, 2019

 It had been five days. The wounds healed, the pain persisted, and I was used to the scars. I felt it. I heard the voices of others pointing at me. At the hospital, they ordered me to take my medication. Admittedly, it was pretty irresponsible to put them off for such a long time, especially when I knew what the consequences could be. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I just sat in the chair all day and stared into space.

Jack walked down the stairs to Zooey, sitting in the kitchen reading. Even though a door separated us, they could be heard quite well.

"We don't know what's going on in her head. She might start freaking out and hurt one of us," Jack convinced Zooey.

"She's my sister... you can't talk about her like that. He's no fool," she countered.

Even so, she was trying to lie to herself about something untrue. And she knew it very well.

"Then, at least take the gun away from her. I'd hate for her to skip it again. I don't want to be another victim killed by Alexis with an innocent face," sarcastically.

"Stop!" Zooey shouted. "Don't worry, I took the gun from her the very night she came to us," she assured him. "by the way... Why are you accusing her of the murders? She is not to blame for any of this.'

"Stop telling yourself something that isn't true. Look at her. He is here with us. She was shot. How will you explain to me that she's okay when we don't even know where Christine and Ryan are?" he asked. "And why did she always avoid death and the others...her friends, your mother didn't?" he argued. "They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she was with them. That's a coincidence," replied.

"Even you don't believe that!" he responded. "and coincidence. She does not believe in coincidences. So how could it be a coincidence?" ironically.

They didn't know I could hear their argument. And I didn't want them to fight again.

However, the way Jack talked about me was familiar. He never liked me. He hated everything about me. From features to work—absolutely everything.

Although Zooey and I are sisters, we are complete opposites. I was always ambitious and goal-oriented. She was more down-to-earth. She wanted to stay in Charleston and have a family, unlike me. I always wanted to run away as far as possible.

I wanted to avoid listening to their exchanges. I got up from the chair and went to the porch through the French doors. I squatted down, leaned against the house wall, took a box from my sweatpants pocket, and lit a cigarette.

"Lex...," came the voice. "You'll catch a cold in here," she said carefully.

"It doesn't matter," I retorted.

She knocked the cigarette out of my hand.

"Something tells me you want to talk," she said.

"I don't want to talk to anyone," I added.

I took out another cigarette and a lighter from the box.

She grabbed my hand and wanted to help me up. "Leave it and get up."

I snapped at her.

She waved her hands, turned, and stepped away from returning inside. She did everything for my good. She knew I wanted to be alone, so she left.

Suddenly, I said, "You know, when I'm out here and close my eyes, there are no problems. The world is suddenly a nicer place. I feel better because one woman's problems melt away like a fog."

She didn't have much to say. She knew I could tell when she was lying but didn't want to tell me the truth.

"I have to tell you something. Something significant. But not here...," I paused. "I want to be somewhere alone."

"Please speak now if it's as important as you say. Tell me," she pleaded.

"No. Not now. Sorry, the time hasn't come yet," I finished. "but I know one place. We both know him.'

It was a place where I was always alone and felt safe. I found him after what happened to Mom. And since then, I went there to cry. I WANTED TO LOOK STRONG because I didn't want anyone to see me like that. And Christine went there with me.