Page 12 of Living with Death

Cassie hears me and looks my way. We make eye contact, and it’s at this moment that I see her struggle. The circles under her eyes appear darker. Her skin is thin and so white it’s nearly ash.

“Sorry, I thought you said something,” I say, feeling insane. I’m losing it.

She looks back in front of her and keeps walking.

“Well, you’re all dying. The moment you’re born, you begin the ordeal.”

“Stop it.” I clamp my eyes shut, balling my fists.

“Mabel, are you all right?” I quickly open my eyes, seeing Mrs. Burton and her little dog gaping at me.

I rub my eyes and nod, readjusting my glasses.

But I’m not sure. I’m not so sure at all. I hurry into the break room, grabbing my lunchbox from the fridge. I sit down and take the food out, biting into it and chewing as fast as possible before swallowing.

The drink machine lights up the dark room, and the hum of it fills my ears. I take another bite, and then another, and before I know it, I’ve finished the entire thing. I breathe, looking at the floor.

“Eat less, move more.”Once again, my mother’s words play through my mind.

I exhale, balling the paper in my hand before tossing it into the trash.

I’ll go for a run tonight.

And then I hear the rain begin to fall against the roof.

I’ll buy a damn treadmill.

*

I didn’t hear the voice for the rest of the afternoon. So, it makes me believe I was hallucinating, which is excellent. I already have a body image issue. I’ve never been in love because my parents fucked me up in that manner, so let’s add mental health problems to the roster.

Who knows, perhaps it’s normal for people to hallucinate a few times in their life. Usually, drugs are involved, but maybe when we don’t eat for a while or don’t get enough rest, we can hear voices.

Jesus, I’m losing it. I’m losing my mind.

After we bring the shopping carts in and Robbie locks the door, I count my register, and Sam and Patty hand him theirs. Jason restocks the bags and sweeps the front. Patty takes the trash out back, and Sam takes care of the windows. We’re like a well-oiled machine.

I walk to aisle five and pick up everything that has fallen throughout the day. Things fall off these shelves for no reason. Why wouldn’t I hear voices?

Sam appears with a broom. I slide a box back into its place. “I think a person died on this aisle years before it was the Grab & Go.”

That’s it. I’m hearing dead people.

“Or maybe this used to be a hospital.” She angles her head. “You know, with sick people.”

“Um, yeah, I know what hospitals are, Sam.”

She smirks. “Just making sure you’re listening.” A box of cake mix falls beside her, and she reaches down and picks it up. “Maybe it was a saloon, and they had a showdown.” She places the box back.

I laugh. I’m hearing dead cowboys.

The light makes her eyeshadow sparkle. She stops sweeping and looks at me. “When’s the last time you did something fun?”

My defenses rise. “Why?”

A pause. “I worry about you.”

“Worry less. I’m fine.”

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