Jesse

21: I hate this

21: I hate this

            The sky was overcast now. The sun was hiding. But it didn't look like it was going to rain I saw as me and Joann sat beside Ty's grave; she was cross-legged, and I held my legs close, my eyes lingering on her. Jo's eyes were watery, but she couldn't help but crack a grin.   

            "I hate you seeing me like this," she muttered, casting her eyes away. I saw she was looking at the bluebird resting on the branch of the spiraling oak above us. Together, we watched the bird, before it ruffled its feathers and flew away, becoming nothing but a blue speck in the sky, then gone.

            "I wish I was a bird, Jesse," Joann said blatantly. As if she really, really meant it. I would have asked her if she was feeling okay, but I knew she wasn't. She had dealt with more than anyone ever needed to. An insane boyfriend who committed suicide—who she was living with—to have to attempt to move back into her house with her parents, who already looked down on her for rebelling against them, and moving in with Ty anyways. To do have done that alone was more humbling than I could think of. It took real strength, I thought.

            The thing was her parents had locked her out of the house. She had to drive back to the Smokehouse, that shithole of a place, alone…hurting, and scared. She had to get a job. Now she had no one, relative wise. She was trying to get clean, because of it. She had to put up with binging on heroine; and that would be enough for anybody. The things you see, hear, and experience while trying to get off of that shit, I don't even want to know more about it. I heard enough about it. Seen it with my own eyes. Customers who had waited too long for their next order, or didn't simply have the money.

            The less I know the better. I had only tried it a couple of times. Not enough to get hooked. Like Jo.

            But I kept quiet, thinking, my gaze on her now. Wondering.

            "If I was a bird, Jesse," she said in a dreamy sort of way, longing, "I could just spread my wings and fly away; get as far as I can from here as I could, and never look back; just to be free, Jesse. I want to start over…I want to feel like me again…I'm tired of living alone…I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night and no one's there anymore…I hate it that my parents hate me; to—to them I'm not even…even they're daughter anymore—MY DAD, said it straight into my face that night—I screamed, and cried so much, Jesse…

            "You're no daughter of mine get the hell off my property before I call the police. I didn't even get to say bye to Mama…Oh God Jesse…I begged. I BEGGED! Got down on all fours, like a—an animal! Begging…sobbing…Banged on the door…So many times my hand began to bruise…I—I don't want to remember…Sometimes I think it would be easier if I—"

            "No, Jo!" I interrupted her, "you can't do that…I need you."

            I wanted to believe more than anything Jo was lying to me just then. That her parents had accepted back into her home, that she was welcomed with open arms and the unconditional love only parents can give. I wanted to more than anything. But I knew—know life is no fairy-tale. Life is hard. Life is everything you don't want it to be. I knew this more than anybody. I saw it in her eyes, felt it sting my heart, and turn my stomach in the way her voice cracked, and the way she talked, as if almost moaning. As if the pain itself just bleed from her open words. We shared the longest stare. The longest stare I had with anyone. I loved Joann. Not in the way the world wanted me to. But in my own way. The only way I could love her. From deep within.

            I watched as the tears escaped her reddened eyes, wet her trembling lips. "Jesse…You could move in with me, if you want…?"