I exited my room around lunch the next day, journal tucked in the waist of my jeans. My grandmother wasn’t supposed to be out, but the house was silent as if I was alone. I set out to search for her, and it didn’t take long to find her. She was still in the room with my grandfather; she must have stayed with him overnight. 

When I peeked into the room, I could see her leaned over in a chair next to his bed, sleeping with her head on his arm. I knew I had to move her to her bed, she’d hurt her back sleeping like that, but something kept me hesitating at the threshold of the room. There was a panic in my chest keeping me motionless. I let out a heavy breath, forcing the feeling away. Putting my eyes to the floor, I pushed the door open slowly and entered. 

The air in the room was stale, and I could smell the intravenous fluids and the sterile linens. It burned my nostrils like acid, turning my nose up. I tried to ignore it, but the anxiety gripped my lungs tight, forcing me to hold my breath. I hurried over to my grandmother, wanting to get out of the room as soon as possible. 

I touched her shoulder, shaking her a little. “Nan.” As she stirred, I stroked her arm gently. “You fell asleep. Let me help you to bed, ok?” 

Her eyes fluttered open, only half conscious and confused, then nodded to me and allowed me to help her up. I noticed as she stood with me, a piece of paper was folded up in her grasp along with her rosary. Despite being just woken, she held onto both objects with a firm grip.

I led her to her bedroom and helped her under the covers. It was best she slept in for the day; I knew she wasn’t getting much of it because of all the worrying she was doing over the bills. She reached out for my hand and squeezed it to thank me, settling herself under the blankets. I circled around the bed to close the curtains, hoping a bit of proper darkness would help. I wasn’t sure it was necessary, since when I returned to her side, she had already drifted away again. 

I took her reading glasses off her face delicately and set them on the nightstand, then turned to remove the paper and rosary from her grasp. I coiled up the rosary and set it next to her glasses, but lingered with the paper in my hand. My curiosity had become impossible lately. 

I unfolded it as quietly as I could, turning towards the hallway to catch enough light to read. I didn’t need long to recognize what it was, and I felt that anxiety from before shift into a full blown panic attack. 

The paper fell from my hands and I exited the room, fighting hyperventilation. The urge to run was overwhelming, but somehow I managed a careful pace as I headed for the kitchen. I picked up the phone and dialed my mother’s number.

“You got the notice then, I assume.” She answered her phone with a callousness, thinking I was my grandmother.

“Is it true?”

“Violet?”

“Is it true, Mom?”

She paused, sighing in frustration. “It’s time your grandmother lets him go.”

I felt my mental state bending. Even from so far away, she was putting pressure, pushing and pushing. I knew I wouldn’t stand it for very long. It hurt already, trying to keep myself together as my lungs screamed for air. 

“Maybe so, but is this really how you’re going to do it?”

“She won’t see reason.”

“So you’re taking her to court? You’re going to take Nan to court over him?” My voice cracked at the end of my words, and I cut them short to hide my emotions from her. I knew she heard them regardless.

“It’s not fair to me, or you, what she’s doing. We’re not able to finish mourning him. He was my father, and he was practically a father to you as well. We need her to let him go so we can let him go.” 

“You didn’t seem to care about what he meant to me when he first fell into a coma. You didn’t even let me see him!” 

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see him like that.” 

And there it was, the breaking point. My bending patience snapped violently, and I felt the pain swell in my throat like someone had gripped my neck too tight for too long. Like hard bruises blooming under the skin. “You have no idea what I wanted! You never cared about what I wanted! I wanted to see him! I’ve always wanted to see him, but you kept me from him and Nan for so long. For what? Because of some stupid disagreement?”

There was a long silence on the other end, and I thought maybe my broken, teary reaction had finally gotten to her. She replied with a cold, level tone. “You haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Violet.” 

I resisted screaming at her over the phone, biting my lip so hard that I thought I’d tasted copper on my tongue. When I got a hold of the anger and sniffed back the tears of frustration escaping my eyes, I replied, “Maybe I don’t. But I do know Grampie loved you, and he would hate to see you fighting with Nan. I wish you could just stop being so selfish for once and look at what you’re doing. She needs you right now, Mom. She needs you here. I need you.” 

I couldn’t help the tears, swelling big and terrible, dripping from my eyes wet and out of control. I couldn’t help the sob that escaped my chest, violent and convulsive, my lungs having trouble taking in air around the pain deep in my sternum. I had held back those thoughts for so long, they came flooding out like a broken dam, unyielding and destructive. I’d hoped they would sweep her away somehow, but perhaps I was wrong.

When the silence on the other end of the line lasted too long, I cursed and hung up. I knew what was coming, because it was always the same, and I didn’t have the emotional strength to deal with another one of her excuses. I couldn’t do it. I ran for the door. 

 I remembered my jacket this time, the keys to all the places on the property heavy in its pockets, but I didn’t care. I just needed to go somewhere so I could breathe again. The jarring pain in my chest told me to do things — run, scream, cry, disappear — but when I exited the house, I knew there was only one thing I needed to do. 

Find Jack. 

It should have been easy, since he always seemed to show up on his own when I was making a mess of myself. This time though, when I knew I needed him, he was nowhere in sight. 

With my lungs working overtime to try and catch a breath, I hurried around the property, searching for him in all the places he’d popped up previously. I checked the shed and the bushes and the tree line and even out by the garden. There was no sign of him. Like the ghost he often seemed to be, he had disappeared completely. 

Frustrated, and with more fat, wet tears threatening to spill from my eyes, I admitted defeat. I gave a stifled scream into the silence of the property. Not for anyone to hear, but rather just to let it out from being caught in my throat. I knew it was loud and echoed through the fog, but I could barely hear myself past the panic. Run, disappear, run, run. 

And I did.