Dissolution

“Have you ever sat down and thought about how incredibly selfish the human race is?” The girl scooted over an inch and repeatedly bent her index finger, urging the man to come closer. The distinct smell of Grey Goose got stronger each time she let another series of slurred words out.

“Even in death, we mourn the person because of who they were to us and what they did. Then...” She threw up her hands and let out one of her magnetic laughs that most people found incredibly charming under different circumstances, “…then, even after all of that…that, bullshit, comes moving on. You know? I feel like I’m dying right now but eventually I’m going to refocus my life like she never...”

The engraved ring that usually stands as a gentle kiss on her middle finger suddenly became a bleak reminder that she was alive. Why did she deserve to be alive? Her brows furrowed when the drink was pulled from her hand. Not cool.

“Alright kid, you’ve reached your max. Cab or limo?” The bartender, too accustomed to this routine, leaned over the black marble counter and offered the stumbling teen a hand. This gave the middle-aged man, aware that he didn’t stand a chance against her big, grief-stricken hazel eyes, an excuse to escape.

“C’mon Kalila, you’re scaring away my paying customers again.” With a sigh and a tiny head shake, he picked her up from the stool, smiling a little when she brushed the red glitter of her Chanel dress over his shoulder. Her arms dangled, lighting scratching his back and playing with his shirt.

“Having fun up there?” It wasn’t amusing. Someone openly throwing away their life never could be. Jeff, much like everyone else in Dellwood, Minnesota saw Kalila as the girl before it happened. The breathtaking, honey haired ray of sunshine that could spell and define any given word before her opponent could process what was said. The girl that would give up everything she had in an instant to help anyone in need. He feared she was damaged beyond repair.

Whenever he looked behind those sad, beautiful eyes, there was no trace of before. She was empty, hellbent on destroying herself to ease some of the pain.

She appreciated the softness of his voice and how habitual it was for this large, brooding man to humble himself and take care of her continuously.

“I miss her J.” Kalila slumped down on the office chair, wiping her noticeably tired eyes.

Her arms were still tightly wrapped around Jeff’s neck; regardless of his countless attempts to push her to sit on her own. “I miss her so much. It consumes me and I can’t breathe.” Jeff nodded and did his best to tie her hair up away from her eyes and her vomit zone. He knew what was coming next when she got to this point.

“I know, kid.” There wasn’t much to say. He was painfully aware of why she put herself through this treachery every night. Guilt kills.

“No, really.” She started fanning her face in a panic as her cheeks visibly reddened. “I can’t…I can’t breathe!” Through watery eyes, the room began to blur and darken while images and vivid memories of her sister replaced reality. Ever since the accident, it was hard for her to distinguish what was real, especially in moments like this.

Most people just brushed her onerous panic attacks off as need for attention, but Jeff knew how deeply rooted her issues were. The more she drank, the harder she crashed when the numbness faded away. And every night, though it was painfully disheartening to watch, ended in complete darkness.