The morning Jesse ran away, she was humming One Hope’s Won’t You Stay.

Her rough and untuned voice bounced off the walls. Exams had just finished, Prom was already a wrap, and summer bridging to College was bustling at the corner. She was promoted yesterday at the ice cream parlour she worked at, next town. Her skin was glowing, and her mouth tugged upward in a coy grin, and the jab she made that morning when she caught my baggy eyes were rather friendly and sisterly than usual.

“This feels nice,” Jesse said, nodding as though satisfied with her beauty sleep. “So, you're gonna stop your ‘rituals’ for real?”

I pushed around the cereal and waited for a long moment before quietly said. “No, I can’t. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.”

“Oh, but you’ve to repeat this step four times lest ‘bad things are gonna happen’, Theo.”

“Five,” I corrected. “Four is extremely, extremely bad.”

Jesse had doubled over and laughed.

When she left, she wore ripped blue jeans and black Keds with low socks, wiry hair twisted in a bun and messenger bag slung over her shoulders. She didn’t hug me, she didn’t pause to give me a meaningful look. She simple waltzed out of the door, unlock her bike, mouth chewing a corner of the toast. Just like any other normal day.

Except, that day, Jesse never returned in the evening from school.