Like Her

"Like this?" I tried to hold my breath as the fumes caught in my throat, blocking my air passage. In less than a few seconds, coughs raked my body and I felt myself grasping for breath.

"You get used to it." she left me with these four words before taking the stick right out of my hands and pressing it to her own mouth. I watched in awe as she took a drag, and not one cough escaped from her mouth. "I shouldn't have even let you try. Smoking is bad for you ya know?"

"I know."

She took another drag.

"Jessy" I pulled myself up from the grass scraping at the dirt stains on my white dress. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" she scrutinized the cigarette through a narrow grey gaze before flicking it down into the molch.

"I don't know you just-..." I struggled for the right words. "You just live. Pass through life without worrying about anything ever. You don't follow the rules because they don't even matter to you. What's it like?"

"To be honest it grows a bit old."

"How so?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Of course not, I never understand. At thirteen you're incapable of knowing anything besides the basics of right and wrong. As if I don't hear that phrase every day. I studied the older version of myself, our identical fair locks, freckled faces. The differences became clearer than a sunny day. I was not like Jessy at all. No matter how hard I strived to be, I'd always fall short. Sure, we looked alike, but our minds were two separate places completely. Mine was filled with too many thoughts, hers hollow. A silent peace that I could never obtain, not even in a dream.

I inhaled the fresh scent of summer which tore away at the nicotine odor. Clouds moved across the sky, concealing the sun, and in a matter of seconds rain would wash away the smell completely.

Jessy didn't move from the spot as my thoughts turned towards shelter. Me, running away from a storm; her unnerved allowing nature to take it's course.

What was there to fear? Soaked raiments? Was that all? One drop of rain was enough to send me scurrying and Jessy, well let's just say she wasn't leaving her spot anytime soon. This was what the feeling I craved. The bold, fearless demeanor that she seemed to always carry. I pressed a hand to my raw throat.

One puff couldn't cause cancer right?

Jessy didn't return home for dinner, and Mom didn't raise any questions. That's expected of her, but me? If I were merely a second or two late, she'd have the eyes of the entire town searching. When the light of day no longer remained, the rhythm of raindrops pelting against the window became my lullaby. There were no heavy, uneven, breaths to put me to sleep that night. As I peered into the darkness, my gaze settled upon her bed which gave away no sign that it had even been occupied. The plaid comforter remained neat, untouched as it had since morning.

I heard her voice. Somewhere between the realms of my dreams and reality, her words struck a chord in my mind. The rain had cleared and sunlight peaked through the shades. On her nightstand sat her lighter out in the open for the world to see. It was no secret in this household, and no attempts had been made to stop her. And then, an unsettling feeling washed over me when I realized. Jessy doesn't just leave her lighter laying around. She wouldn't go anywhere without the item. The bedspread proved otherwise. She hadn't been back.

I don't know what I expected in the following days that came. Maybe she'd be there, the door to our bedroom locked and Mom would walk by shouting over the speakers to turn the music down. However, I was greeted with nothing but silence. Jessy only occasionally roused the subject of running away, but I never expected this to become my reality. Not once had any reason crossed my mind to why she'd be so desperate to for an escape. But of course, since when has she ever done anything expected? After all there's a good reason behind why she's known as the unpredictable one.

"I miss you Jess."

Days turned to weeks and I could do nothing about it but simply observe my own mother being driven to insanity before my eyes. She'd curse my sister's name and blame herself. She should've seen this coming. She could have stopped it.

One afternoon as I found myself rummaging through her leftover items, I uncovered an unopened pack of cigarettes. Without putting any thought into my next action, I reached across the stand and closed my fist around the lighter. It didn't sit right in my hands. My gaze shifted back to the cigarettes. It had merely been a month ago when I polluted my lungs for the first time. Never again, I told myself. My eyes watered, my throat burned. The feeling was highly uncomfortable to say the least. I questioned why one the right mind would purchase such a distasteful item and perceive it as something enjoyable.

Imagine my surprise as I tucked them into my back pocket.

I guess I was eventually able to convince myself that she wasn't coming back. I knew for sure she'd make an appearance before school started back up, but the house stayed quiet as it was only occupied by mother and me. To my surprise she didn't even flinch when I pulled the back gate open and departed from our property. Had she even noticed was the real question. If I thought she was bad, I had yet to realize how this had affected myself. No longer did I desire to be like Jessy. Not anymore.

I always thought that she cared for something. No matter how high she built her walls and masked her feelings, surely she wouldn't leave me behind. How I'd been fooled.

Now as I stood at the sight where she'd be forever molded into a memory, I didn't raise a hand to wipe the tear out of my eye. My vision became a blur as I sunk to the ground, balling my fists into the dirt. Beneath the wet soil my fingers brushed against something familiar. As I pulled the item out of the ground and dusted at it's surface, I realized that I was holding the familiar remains of a cigarette butt in my hand. The same one Jessy had carelessly tossed away in this very spot. In a twisted manner I found myself chuckling at the irony. Before I could even comprehend what I was doing, I had slid my hand into my back pocket. In a few seconds the box was torn open, and out slid a single white stick.

The flame sparked in the wind flinching away as I held the cigarette between my index and middle fingers. Just like she taught me. I cut the flame and leaned back against my elbow, cautiously raised the tobacco to my lips and inhaled.

This time I didn't cough.