It was all wet that evening. Light drizzles had been falling for hours with some heavy showers at intervals. Rain coats, boots, umbrellas and gloves always come in handy during this time of the year that one's instinct for safety tingles whenever he or she goes out without at least any. That's how it is in Seattle.
Kimberly Otis sat alone in the car trying hard to put a curb at the strange feeling she's been having all day. Her lethargic psyche couldn't find a clue why the feeling grew stronger and longer; and worse, she always hits a dead-end whenever she tries to connect the bad feeling with something awkward she might have done or about to do; it was really infuriating. It felt as if she's been immersed into those agonizing moments experienced on the early stages of soberness from alcohol and cigarette.
Kimberly was in hell!
The car door yanked open; a young black man got in, sat on the driver's seat and held up a bottle excitedly to her face. "I got it boo! Sean Don; girl I love Puffy."
"Nice." She replied carelessly, taking out a cigarette out of a pack, grabbed it with her lips and lit it. His momentary excitement suddenly died down by her cold reaction; he watched her puffed off a cloud of smoke into air.
"That thing will kill you."
"Shut up and drive Jason, we're going to be late."
"Can you please tell me what's wrong with you?"
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine?" She shot back. "I'm fine, thanks for asking and don't ask again."
"I don't care if you’ll say that a thousand times more because I won't believe you. Kim, this is the third time on my record you’ve been so meanly sarcastic to me today. And every time I asked, you claim you are fine. You know you're lying."
"Why the hell are you bugging me; why is it hard for you to just drop it?" He stared at her for two seconds. "Are we going or what?" She demanded.
Jason punched the ignition and they were off.
Kim rarely have this sort of weird moment that she couldn't give a logical explanation why she's having it; if not for a friend’s dinner invitation, she would have loved to be alone; because she's feeling sick in her guts.
"You know," Jason broke silence. "I read something about cigarettes and smoking a week ago and it goes like this;" He cleared his throat. "Nicotine, the main chemical compound in cigarettes, contains over two thousand different chemicals known to cause bleeding in the lungs, shallow breath and also the chemical addiction chronic smokers can't do without; all these happen when smoking gets chronic. You know what that means?" She didn't answer. "Cancer! Smokers can die young if they don’t quit early." She didn't respond still. “I just thought you should know."
"I heard you professor know-all. Well, there's something you should know too: It's none of your damn business."
"Oh I’m making it my damn business cuz I wouldn't like my best friend to end up with over two thousand shitty chemicals streaming through her system a few years from now. Cancer Kim! Right now, you are already a walking corpse."
"What?"
"I'm telling you this cuz I care about you. I know you don’t like it but I can’t help it. It's called tough love; that’s what this is all about; Love. I would've quit right now if I were you before it's too late; it's your choice though."
She shot him a scornful stare then looked away. Jason hates that. She uses that stare to send a thousand messages; the loudest being 'whatever' and the runner-up translate to 'sue me'.
"You're tripping Kim."
"What the hell is your problem?" She snapped.
"That stare is my problem. You are my problem. You've been acting and looking like shit all day. You refuse to tell me what’s wrong with you and every time I asked, you sneer at me as if it’s my fault. It's freaking annoying."
Kim took another drag and sent off a thicker cloud. Jason grunted and pressed a button to lower the windscreen of his side door. "Kim, this got to stop" She ignored him. That's freaking annoying! "You know what? You can smoke a thousand cigarettes a day if you want, but from this moment on, not in my car. So throw that thing out now!"
"You are kidding me right?"
Jason gave her a hard stare to confirm how dead serious he is.
"Don’t be a jerk."
Instantly, he hit the brakes and screeched to a halt, sending both of them to jerk forward before slamming back on the seats. He maintained his stare.
"Jason!"
"Do it now!"
"Ok! Whatever." She threw the half burnt stick out of the window. "holy shit; Jason! Cigarettes won't kill me, you will!"
"Yeah right." He stepped on it and they zoomed off again.
Kim ran her hands over her red hair, wondering what the hell just happened. She shot a couple of angry glances at him but he didn't look back. She turned her gaze back on the road, burning inside.
At twenty one, Kim had been a bitter woman. Her mother died of cancer two years earlier; and ever since she dropped the red rose on her mother's tombstone, she left the cemetery and hitch-hiked to Seattle. She never again went back to their little home in Los Angeles where she was raised. But she's lucky to have finished high school though. College was something she had refused to consider. Her only living family happened to be a nagging grandmother whom she preferred to forever stay away from. The few months she stayed with the old woman happened to be the worst months of her life.
Her life in Seattle had been a struggle. She had worked in lots of places for the past two years ranging from grocery stores, shopping malls, housekeeping, fashion stores, table waiting and hair dressing. Then she met Jason Curtis. Jason was a college student who graduated from Kim's high school in L.A. a year before her, but they never met in school though. Jason was working at the mall when Kim was hired and they became close friends; watching out for each other ever since. Until now!
"Stop the car." She barked.
"What, you want to pee?"
"Stop the damn car!"
"I won't!"
His retort got her enflamed by a strong wave of anger she had never felt before; it was so provocative that it made her do the unthinkable: she grabbed the wheel and turned it, forcing the car to swerve sharply off the road.
"Kim, what the hell are you doing?" He screamed. But she didn't let go. She held the wheel with all her strength. "KIM!" But it was too late. Kim had made the Grand Cherokee swept a ninety degree turn skidding on to the opposite lane of coming vehicles where a truck was coming at full speed. It was a nightmare. Jason looked to his left and was blinded by the bright lights of the coming truck. Then an instant glitch of what seemed like a déjà vu from a movie scene flashed on his mind.
A nightmare it was! The coming truck had hit the brakes some yards to impact, letting out a terrible screeching sound as the tires jammed. But to their disadvantage, the rains have made the road slippery that even with the reduced speed, the impact was made. That was the last thing Jason Curtis would ever remember.
Seconds later, Jason was leaning limply against Kim's seat. His eyes and mouth were all wide opened. He had no pulse. Fresh blood smeared all over his face dripped down to his shirt. Kim was also unconscious, leaning against the car door on her side. And just when the sirens began wailing from a distance, Kim's cell phone buzzed beneath her legs. It was a strange number.