In Transit Notes: Shall I Return to Find You Home

Jan is mad at the world, but the world doesn’t know it.

“She had another seizure.” Carrie says, leaning against our apartment’s door frame.

“Why they’re calling me I don’t know; she doesn’t live here anymore.”

I wobble out of bed then, remembering I was responsible for this and wondering if I had not fought enough for her.

“Is she okay?” I ask from the kitchen, wiping the night from my eyes.

“You know her, always running around- in transit. Doesn’t listen, she’s going to keep doing this to herself because she’s too stubborn to sign up for the pick-up services.”

“Well, I think she is just going through a lot.” I chip in.

Truth be told Jan hates this world, and the world knows it.

She told me so.

“I tried to kill myself.” She said once between our conversations on Pride and Prejudice, and her favorite, Wuthering Heights.

“How was your day?”

“Today was a good day.” Her eyes widen. “Went to the book club.”

“That’s great.” I look over at her bookshelf. “I’ll send some books your way when I’m done; hopefully you like them.”

“You know me.”

“No, it’s me- they’re my books. I prefer non-fiction.”

“Took a bunch of pills, and everything’s been different.”

Later that night her mom came to take her out for her birthday and she wasn’t ready. What had been a good day quickly changed as I ran to grab her coat.

“It’s going to be okay.” I reassured her with a wink. “It’s going to be an okay day.” Then I ran back to grab her purse, hearing murmurs from the top of the stairs as her mom held out her coat.

“Should have called!” Jan screamed, and I remembered Christina had grabbed the phone earlier and not hearing a voice on the other end of the line slammed it on the receiver.

Truth be told Jan’s not scared of this world, and I know it.

She once got lost a block away from the house and couldn’t remember which road to take. In a panic she jumped into a cab and told the driver to keep driving until she remembered where she was- an hour later. Afterwards I thought of giving her notes… The header would read:  Ways to come back after a long night’s journey into morning. And I would sign off “Notes in transit: until I return to find you home.”

It’s too late now. I’ve spent a month in Europe and she’s had many okay days turn bad, and the few notes she once had on her wall have all been crumbled and bagged for what was the big move.

At least she has her own bathroom. That’s what we tell her to keep the bad days at bay. Unfortunately it’s only been a day and well-

Truth be told Jan’s tired of this world, and the seizures know it.

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