The Power of the Tongue

It was freezing cold on campus, cold enough to make my nose drip and leave snotcicles. I saw Jace walking my way, too far away to say hi but too close to simply wave. We locked eyes and I could see it in her face that something wasn’t right. She has the most beautiful blue eyes, always full of love and light. Today, they looked dull, even with the grey backdrop of January. I’m sure she thought that smile would fool me, surely it would have if I were anyone else, but I’m not someone else. I can tell when something is wrong with Jace. She must have been able to see my concern because she got rid of the fake smile. She didn’t say anything, but the look on her face said ‘what’.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, though I figured she’d come up with some lie, considering she was always emotionally reserved when we dated.

Nothing. She said nothing. I decided to keep walking, wondering if she still held a grudge towards me about our break up. I looked down at my feet and hugged myself as I walk to the science building, trying to keep what little warmth I had. I sniffed in the excess fluid running down my lip, my body’s natural defense against the bitter cold. Relief. I made it inside where I could finally breathe without risking a frost-bitten lung. My asthma gets so much worse in the winter, I’m convinced that winter-weather-induced-asthma is a thing, but my doctor doesn’t think so.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the image of Jace’s dull eyes. I could feel my palms begin to sweat and my leg shaking under my desk. Maybe she was just stressed, or maybe she went on one too many tinder dates. Regardless, I tried to use all of the endogenous control I had to focus on the professor rather than my own questions, “The properties of organic molecules depend on the structure, and knowing the names of organic compounds allow us to communicate with other chemists,” What if something really bad happened to her? The thought digs its way into my consciousness, shifting my focus from Dr. Jones.

Tuesday was even colder than Monday was, living in the Midwest, you’d think I’d own a thick winter coat, but suffice it to say, I really love my Nike windbreaker. I saw Jace again. This time she kept her head low and didn’t make eye contact with me. Even though I could barely see her face, I could see the blue-grey bags under her eyes—She must really be tired—I thought. I turned around to watch her walk away, noticing her poor posture and sluggish movement. When I saw her, I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach, I felt sick, nauseous, anxious even. By this point I was convinced that she was much more than just tired and stressed. Even though I had no right to know what was going on in her life, I felt obligated to get to the bottom of it, if only for my own sanity. I internally decided that tomorrow I would finally ask her what’s up and get some closure.

She wasn’t there Wednesday. Maybe she was and she walked a different way. I tried by best to conceal my worries by reassuring myself. Logically it seemed as though I had nothing to worry about, but I couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling. Regardless, something wasn’t right, my thoughts were consumed by that look on her face. I saw it in my sleep and I saw it in the halls. I saw it everywhere. Every time I saw it I got that same sinking feeling in my stomach, as if I were going to vomit. I wish I could have called or texted her, but she blocked my number after we broke up. I’d like to think our break up was civil and mutual, but the truth was, I really brought this whole thing on us.

It was late Fall, the Thursday before finals week. The leaves, turned to a brown earthy pallor, fell upon the earth, broken into small earthy crisps. There was a distinct chill in the air, one that smelled of burning leaves and frostbite. A perfect combination for an Autumn night. In the fall, a lot of my peers would go down to Lake Michigan to the beach for a late-night of bonfires and extra-legal mischief. I always drove my beat-up Chevy Malibu and crammed three or four, plus me. Jace always sat in the front seat, hair blowing and eyes silver-hued in the grey moonlight. She always had the window down. Rolled down half way, she would put her arm out and let the chill air bite her skin. When she did it I saw the rush she got. Her eyes squinted closed and a toothy smile. I would tell her to stop, that she’d wind up with frostbite, but nothing phased her. Only with the insistence of Lisa, her best friend, would she roll it back up. Her arm would be splotched with red and white and was icy to the touch.

Almost two weeks had gone by and there was still no sign of Jace. I was behind in all of my classes, an insomniac at night, yet I struggled to stay awake during the day. It was a Monday, I hadn’t slept in days, but I hadn’t missed a day of school and refused to miss that day, hoping it would be that day I saw her again. She wasn’t there. I sat through most of my chemistry class, and when I turned around, I swear that I saw her. I saw her sitting in the desk right behind me. However, upon adjusting my eyes, it wasn’t her, and I’m certain that I was more freaked out that the girl behind me must have been. I left the room, head spinning, mind racing and certain I was going to vomit. I found myself sitting in the bathroom stall, nauseous with mal-nutrition from my poor eating habits, as of late, and pure anxiety. I sat in the stall, head in my hands, and couldn’t help but think that this all had to do with our break-up.

At the lake, we would walk to the end of the pier, a cement tower with a spiraling staircase, only about 15 feet above water-level. Jace loved the cold, embraced it. She would climb the stairs, stripping her clothes off piece by piece before getting to the top of the tower. Arms outstretched, she would squint her eyes and smile.

“You’re crazy Jace Bette,” my friend Bass yelled from below. I couldn’t agree more. Lisa rolled her eyes at Bass, convinced that Jace was just showing off, as usual. I loved it though, I got a rush from her unpredictability. This time was different though.

Jace was climbing up the railing of the tower, she stood atop the rail, looking down at me with a mischievous grin.

“I’m gonna do it Colin!”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Jace. Don’t you fucking dare!“. She always joked about jumping, saying it would be a good way to go. I always thought she was just kidding or just trying to scare me, I never thought she’d actually do it. The next few moments are foggy to me. She jumped, the water was cold, it was so cold. Half frozen to death, Jace laughed. My girlfriend jumped into sub-zero waters on Lake Michigan and she was laughing.

I collected myself, wiped away the sweat from my brow and left the stall. I had been in there for 3 hours, though it only felt like minutes. Outside of the bathroom I saw Lisa walking out the door, “Hey! Lisa! Hey!” I shouted pacing in her direction.

“What do you want Colin?” Her tone was cold, unforgiving, and her eyes were bloodshot with tears.

“Is something wrong with Jace? You look like you’ve been crying, did something happen to Jace?”

“I knew you were an asshole, but this is another level of fucked up Colin,” She looked visibly upset, tears in her eyes and started to walk away.

“Lisa, come on I need to know what happened. I think something bad happened to her and it’s been driving me crazy!”

“You think something bad happened to her? You happened to her Colin. You did,” She continued walking in the opposite direction, but I kept up with her.

“Is this about what happened at the Pier? Is it about what I said to Jace? That was over a month ago, I didn’t know she was still upset with me”

“Colin shut up, just shut—“

“Is that why she didn’t respond when I saw her last week?”

“What do you mean you saw her? This isn’t funny Colin.”

“I saw her. Last week. I was walking to class and I saw her smiling, when I looked at her, she stopped,” I couldn’t stop Lisa from walking away this time. I unlocked my phone and clicked on Bass’s contact.

“Hello?”

“Bass, I think I’m going crazy man.” I was stuttering and stumbling over my words, I was honestly surprised he understood what I said.

“What do you mean, dude calm down,”

“I don’t know where Jace is. Lisa won’t tell me what happened, but it was something bad I know it was, Lisa said that I happened to Jace, that I did something to her,”

“Hey, hey, I’m sure she’s fine, but if you’re that freaked out just call her”

“Dude, you know I’m blocked,”

“Okay, then call her mom, she still lives at home rig—” I hung up before he could finish and I dialed Jace’s home phone as fast as I could.

“Mrs. Bette, it’s Colin, I haven’t seen Jace in a week. Lisa won’t tell me what’s wrong and I just know something’s wrong,” There were a good three minutes of silence before Mrs. Bette spoke,

“Colin, Jace is dead.” I don’t remember if I hung up or what I did next. I just get that same pit in my stomach, but this time I actually vomited.

I pulled Jace from the water and couldn’t hold back my anger, “Jace what the fuck! You could have killed yourself, what’s wrong with you?”

“Maybe I wanted to, did you ever think of that?”

“Then by all means Jace, just fucking do it.”

I found the article. Second page news. Pulaski student commits suicide by drowning. The Sunday before I saw her she drove back to the lake and turned my biggest regret into reality. My mom always whole-heartedly believed that life and death is in the power of the tongue. She said it says that in the Bible somewhere, an old testament proverb. I never read the bible much, but I’ve been thinking about that bible verse a lot lately. I haven’t seen Jace again, not even in my dreams, but I do visit the pier every once in a while, when I’m feeling down or when I just need to feel close to her. I strip my clothes off, head to the top of the tower and stretch my arms out, taking in cold breeze and the smell of the winter air. I look down at the water below, watching the waves crash against the pier. One of these days I’ll jump, but not today.