The Last Day

The bedside clock read 6:02, and Jenny knew she’d be late on this long day. Her eyes adjusted to the shaft of light cast onto her white sheets, and winced when her wrist dragged across her forehead. She stepped over the sweaters and hoodies littering the carpet, and passed the unpacked suitcases to dress in her slacks and button down for work. 

The day unfolded slowly, and she felt grateful for the low hum of her 4th grade class as they composed letters of thanks for their families and created placemat crafts for the upcoming holiday. 

“We’ll miss you, Miss Jones!” Freddie, one of her best writers, led the class to her desk with a signed banner.

“Thank you, I really appreciate each of you.” Jenny accepted their hugs and   as she read their messages of love and thanks.

Later, Jenny forced a smile when her colleagues expressed their well-wishes and distributed cards and packages for her upcoming trip. She truly appreciated each kind gesture and bestowed gratitude for each one, in her own way. She searched their faces for hints of insincerity, but discerned nothing. The one she missed most was nowhere in sight.

She didn’t see Paul until the end of the school day. The sight of him was everything, always making her forget what she needed to do, like breathe or speak. He appeared, cloaked in a heather gray cardigan, softness she longed to crawl into, surrounded by his woodsy scent. 

“Hello.”

“Hello, how are you?”

“So glad the day’s almost over. Jenny, I wanted to tell you before you left how much we’ll miss you.” He adjusted his sweater sleeve, his slender fingers caressing the delicate fabric. She hid her hands to resist the urge to touch his hand. 

“Well, I appreciate that.” 

“When will you get home?”

“Sometime tonight, too late for anything important to get settled.”

Paul placed a hand on her arm, and she failed to squelch the sharp intake of breath at the contact, a gesture of comfort.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s OK, I’m fine.”

He stepped back before he continued. “I just wanted to extend my condolences again, and I’m so sorry you have to go through all of this on your own.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is. But the time off for the holidays will help. I’ll be back on the 2nd of December, just in time for the runup to Winter Break.”

He smiled again. “That’s good to know. Only a week and a half until we see you.” 

“Of course. Time always flies. “ A tiny drop of sorrow slid down her cheek.”

“Oh, here let me help you.” He pressed a tissue from his pocket into her palm. HIs voice always soothed her like a honey laced cup of her favorite tea she sipped on the coldest winter morning. 

“Thanks so much.”

He sighed, and pulled his sweater tighter. “Do you have anyone to talk about how you’re feeling?”

Jenny nodded before she lied. “I do. Thanks for asking.”

“OK. You can head on in.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, of course. If I don’t see you again before I leave, I hope you’ll enjoy your week.” 

He leaned closer and grasped her fingertips. “Please take care, see you soon.”

Leaving now was probably the best option, to get out of the chilly breeze that barely affected her now. She really didn’t want to move an inch, and looking at him for a second longer, his eyes were the most beautiful sight, identical to the color of the sky above them and equally out of her reach. 

  Later, Jenny carried her bags and mug to her car, the banner from her students nestled in a side pocket, and her keys jingled in her trembling hands. Her flight was scheduled to depart in less than seven hours, but she made no move to leave and get home to finish packing for the trip. She stuck the key in the ignition before she tore through the glove box for the tool she needed, though she almost never did it outside of her bedroom. 

The first press of the blade didn’t register, so she jabbed it into her wrist deeper without breaking the skin, since she had no Band-Aids with her. Years of practice taught her how far to go without the gush of blood bubbling out and leaving a trace of her pain. Her pulse slowed, and the ache in her chest subsided. Energy rumbled through her entire self, like a switch flipped to illuminate darkness.

   Jenny closed her eyes and replayed the sound of Paul’s voice, like a favorite song on repeat. The weight of everything closed in-the arrangements for her father and the relatives she dreaded-threatened to crush her. The point of the blade made her feel because the urge for release outweighed the need to conceal.

The routine began years before, Jenny’s first obsession. Her dad knew, and most of her family seemed aware, after her mother was gone. but no one confronted or encouraged her to seek help. Her father never commented, when she wore sweaters when Summer arrived. At first, she did it only occasionally, when he ignored her, preferring to spend his off-hours sleeping, instead of watching ball games and eating burgers the way they’d all once enjoyed. After her homework, and the meager meals she made for herself, she would steal a bread knife or an apple corer and retreat to her bedroom. The cutting subsided when she left for college, and her letters to her father went unanswered. There, she found a therapist who helped her identity and manage the cause of her distress, 

Now, her father was gone, and the unavailable man of her dreams seemed even farther away. The knocking on her window startled her into awareness.

“Oh my god, what are you doing to yourself?”

His eyes were wide and unblinking, and a silent scream lodged itself in her throat.

“Jenny, open the door, please!” His palm rapped on the glass, and she dropped the knife into the wheel well. 

Paul threw the door open, and Jenny’s eyes swept down onto the pool of blood on the seat cushion. HIs arms around her back eased the chill she felt. Later, she welcomed the squeeze of his fingertips on her wrist filled her with regret and a hope, which turned out to be everything.