HAZEL

Short story from Creative Writing Class.

Jessica didn’t plan on becoming friends with Death. Her little sister Anna had Leukemia when they were young and so Jessica would often find herself in the hellishly white and sharply lit halls of the Judith Heart Hospital. Every once in a long while, Jessica would be forced into the hallway by clean and rushed doctors. Sometimes, it would only be for a moment, sometimes it would be for a couple of hours. There was a nice nurse named Ellen with whiskey and honey-colored eyes and a smile that could conquer any bad news. She was Anna’s favorite. 

Across the hall was a little girl named Colette with missing front teeth and large spotted freckles. Her bangs were choppy, obviously done by herself, and her braids were limp with thinning hair. Her hazel eyes shimmered with life and she always made Anna laugh. She was always in the doorway when something bad happened. A little girl, sickened by disease, would muster enough courage to lean against the doorframe until Anna was cleared. 

Conversations were sparse at the beginning until the day she came in with her head shaved. After that, Jessica visited every day. Colette held Jessica’s hand as Anna went into surgery. The day Anna flatlined, Colette padded across the hall to the bedside chair. She fell into it, Jessica following, and kissed Anna’s sweaty and pale forehead. Colette promised her life to Jessica that Anna would get better. 

A couple of months later, two weeks after Anna was discharged from the hospital, Colette died. Jessica found out through the Facebook page that her mother had created for her child. An unsuspected complication and a quick death is what they called it. People commented that Colette was in a better place, that she had suffered enough. Jessica couldn’t muster the same feelings. 

When the weather was nice, Jessica would walk to her high school. She’d wait at a beeping crosswalk, waiting as cars whipped past on the busy roads. The crosswalk would flash and an automated voice would announce that it was safe to cross. It was a feature that was installed after the deaf kid, George, moved in two streets down from them two years ago. They walked together sometimes, small talk in the afternoons and silence in the mornings, but usually Jessica was too late to see the boy. 

Jessica met Death for the second time on a wet Tuesday morning in February. The streets were wet with old rain and the air was thick enough to soak your neck and armpits. A gutsy driver in a white pickup truck sped through the light, skidding over the crosswalk. Jessica only realized the car ran the light when she was knocked to the ground by George. Horns blared from the other drivers and a high pitch bounced in Jessica’s ears. The boy, slightly taller than Jessica herself held out a scuffed hand. He smiled at her, his coffee-colored eyes squinting, and mumbled a slightly deformed apology. Jessica thanked him the next day for silence was the only thing that managed to come from her lips at that moment. 

George and Jessica walked to and from school every day after that. Small talk grew. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they were silent. The longest they talked was three weeks before school ended when Jessica blurted out that her parents were getting a divorce, signing clumsily with the little bit of ASL she was able to learn. George never told anyone that Jessica cried that day. They walked along the creek instead of going back home for a while. Her mother chastised her for staying out so late. The end of the summer was marked by a “For Sale” sign and the permanent absence of George from the AP English class they had planned to take together. 

Jessica got into Central Michigan University in the summer of 2014 and attended that fall. She joined a sorority at her mother’s request and befriended the only other girl who hated the Greek Life as much as she did. Lana was her name. Lana was from Atlanta with a thick accent that alluded to more southern origins. She tanned the easiest, despite her paleness. Jessica thought it had something to do with the many freckles that painted her skin. Her red hair was choppy and short, too curly for the awkward length. She met Jessica over a toilet bowl and through a shared water bottle. Jessica clung to the girl as she took her home. Aspirin, water, and a note with a phone number were the start of their friendship. Lana supported Jessica through her heartbreak, the funeral of her happiness, and the cheating of her boyfriend Oliver with her sorority sister, Alyssa. Jessica always found comfort in the warm fawny eyes of her best friend. 

They lost touch after college. Jessica moved to the East Coast and Lana took her Bachelor's Degree in Spanish to Europe. 

Jessica moved back in with her family for a couple of months after college to save money before moving to the East Coast. She spent time with her sister, now a junior in high school. Anna had a cancer scare two years prior, but it turned out to be negative. Now, she seemed as healthy as any other human. The scar that she got on her shoulder from surgery was the only thing that gave away her former illness. On a night of wine and old movies, Jessica asked her sister if she remembered the girl across the way, the one from the hospital, the one with the warm eyes and crooked teeth. Anna didn’t recall. 

Her flatmate Louis set her up on a blind date with a man named James. She stared at the details listed on her phone. A text followed reading “He’s got hazel eyes. Know how you love those”. She wanted to kill Louis until James approached her table at the new restaurant downtown. A dazzling smile and an expensive blue shirt and she came home singing about her wedding plans. Louis laughed until tears fell from his amber eyes. 

Jessica’s mother died of a stroke at fifty-four. She was glad her father had been eleven years sober for she doubted he would have been able to stand at the funeral. Anna held her hand so tight that her fingers paled. At the funeral, an old lady, adorned in ornate black lace, approached Jessica. 

“She was one of the best ladies I ever knew,” the lady said, her old eyes crinkling into a sympathetic smile. 

Jessica nodded. “How do you know my mother?”

“She was always a favorite of mine. I’ve known her since long since before you were born,” she said, “What a shame that a young soul had to leave like this.”

A single tear ran a jagged line down the lady’s tired face. Red and green swirled amongst the golden color of her eyes.  Feelings of both anger and envy clawed at Jessica’s throat. How dare this woman know her mother so well. How dare her mother care. How dare she leave. 

“It was her time,” she said, looking to the sky. “We aren’t taken until it’s time, no matter how hard it seems.”

She looks at Jessica, her stare heavy. 

“Know that she has accomplished her mission, her cause.”

The old lady gripped her arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. She walked away towards the cookies and Jessica realized she never got a name.