Laura

PARALLEL OPPOSITES
by Ian Bradley












Before I decided to write, I experienced three psychoses, none of which I was prepared for. I had never heard of things like that happening. I believe it was brought on by my drug use. There was a time when a relationship overwhelmed me, and marijuana brought paranoia. After enough trouble caught up with me, I experienced two consecutive psychoses, which nicotine and caffeine added to. Both resulted in suicide attempts. I was hospitalized each time but not on appropriate medication until after the second suicide attempt.
         Contradiction in the way I behaved toward new beliefs brought voices. Much of the attitudes I adapted to were from the television, and it became an overload of information. The voices made it difficult to come to any words with people, so I went deeper into thoughts and isolation with them. In the summer of 2004, no one would hire me after what started as a felony brought me to jail, where the events toward my first suicide attempt began. I had harvested wild marijuana, experimenting toward tea and food seasoning. I am sometimes oversensitive.
Michael hears voices in this story. I make it apparent that there’s an underlying cause. Presently, I don’t see that I’m on an easy road. I go from calm to fearful and back again. I’m on a sort of middle road, and this story became a way for me to understand myself in the way I knew myself to be.
After being hospitalized for the second suicide attempt in November, 2004, the voices were resolved as I regained a sense of privacy and functioned away from them in only a few weeks with Risperdal at a low dose. My mind is sensitive to nicotine and caffeine, but since I use both, my mind is actually balanced by them. With today’s programming, I doubt I’ll return to watching TV at all.
I have since quit drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana and suggest many do the same. I had always wanted to make a connection with people, and too many intense thoughts and inhibitions were the result of drugs. My use of marijuana and alcohol came at a time I somewhat disassociated myself from my family. Later, another relationship influenced both my courage and instability. Life is complicated enough not to complicate it further with drugs.
         Soon, I continued my studies, and the concept for the story came after my studies in astrology. The idea began with the portrayal of Laura in the likeness of Charlotte Gainsbourg after Gainsbourg’s role in 21 Grams, a character I identified with as who I was internally. I began writing in June, 2005 and finished in August before I began editing.
I believe we have a global family. We have many people, who celebrate their lives, to learn from. The ones we know are for us to know further, but it depends on what we put into it. I believe we have to be honest for them to realize who we are for them; many times people don’t seem to care enough about themselves.
You ought to read this story slow.  Otherwise, it’s too complicated. The characters often speak slow, different from what you see on TV commercials. Sometimes when we read too fast, we neglect the story that is clearly there for us to see its changes.
I was born October 4th, 1980, Libra, in the year of the yang metal Monkey, the hour of the Snake, and the week of Society. And within the karmic path of Resolve. My elements, studied in feng-shui, are two-earth and four-tree, the mother and oldest daughter.

Dedicated to myself and to those in the same confrontations.
These are the depths I am rising from and the people who are my light.

Chapter 1

         Either from seeing no one was like her or from seeing she couldn’t be like the rest, something always seemed to be missing from her life....

         Sunlight from outside hinted her calm presence and sparkled through the glass of water as she put it beside the sink. Laura had already contemplated various things to say. After all her attempts at speaking her mind, trying felt useless when no one else seemed to. In life before we die, was this not important to people? Here was her mother, her legs crossed, her endless happiness, poised at the television in her sincerest beliefs of a wonderful time and place and its people, as though she had believed in it this way since childhood. Laura didn’t have to look at her mother to know this. She remained at the window, watching the trees sway in the wind at the road. In front was the pear tree and the locust tree. The yard was mowed, a sign of her father who was gone.

         Beyond the trees at the road, the cattle gathered near the water. One looked toward Laura. They could recognize being in the same world as people but too often with the fear of being neglected. Did they want to remain immortally under the sun, arriving at spring, to bring children to smile? There were no children now.

         In her stare, Laura’s expression was now one of pity for them, her mouth unlike a smile, her eyes somewhere above worry, intimate with the evidence she had of people worried at the sight of the world this way. People seemed to give up on children.

As the cow returned to the water, Laura nervously watched, only to keep herself from the tension of the room. She thought she couldn’t possibly talk over the television.

         She glanced at her mom and hesitated. She said, “Don’t you think the TV separates us?”

         In her raised, rhetorical voice, Renee said, “I don’t know,” to say anything this way if it could matter at all to Laura, to team with her, mother and daughter, and what could that be? Her eyes meant this surprised her, as anything could. Renee was still in some effort to keep Laura from going too far away or from losing admiration.

         Laura chomped some ice, contemplating again on the cows down below. Nothing was bringing them to talk.

         “So what are you doing today?” Renee said. She didn’t know where to begin. It seemed Laura – standing there, contemplating - wanted to talk, but now? Was something wrong? Had the last guy been calling her again already after all that? And why not go shopping sometime with her?

         “I’m hitting the bar when I get home,” Laura said, gazing out the window, the constant loudness of the television penetrating the room. “I won’t be out late, so if you want to call me when I get home, you can.” It was more of an emotion for her to say this, at the same time serious in what was often a failed attempt at keeping Renee from patronizing her. This was the approach Laura had with anyone.

The television blared to the sounds of something bouncing and turned into something like "this is a happy day!"

“You could stay here longer; I hardly get to see you anymore with you living out there. Why don’t you?”

         If Laura could say the right thing, Renee would hold on to that for weeks, perhaps years. “It’s just that I don’t have the time.” Laura put her glass down, turned to leave the kitchen. In her kindest way, she said, “I’m going out for a walk before I leave.”

“Oh, okay,” Renee said, caffeinated and in a way that Laura had the same spirit as the Kindergarteners and herself, to be happy.

Through the living room, Laura was aware of the sunlight coming through the
curtains, the dust hovering in the air, the floral sofa without a matching rug...the old wooden floors and the boxes loaded for transport to her mother’s Kindergarten class. She glanced at her walking reflection in the curio.

         She came out the screen door, onto the deck and into a breeze, to find herself leaving the house again. She stood there, confused, wondering if she’d been wrong with the way she spoke and if she forgot anything from the house she may need. The slender cross between a German shephard and a pointer, Khounsiva, came to Laura, alert and wagging her tail, positioning herself to be petted. Laura had named her.

         Laura was recently more aware of her superficial side. And what would it become? Often, nothing mattered when everything mattered, and it could go into the adult years. For now, it separated her from people she used to confide in. Any contribution would only be going along with something that wasn’t from the heart.
She scratched behind the dog’s ear, found a scab.

Apprehensive, she only knew that communication had weakened in her family. She had distanced herself even though they were important to her. Renee was often high spirited, sometimes frustrated by the things people said, and other times appearing to have doubts. Many had the habit to gossip, and even though she may have as well, she was at guard against it. Laura’s father often stood his ground. He had a quiet presence always trusted, but was never in a mind to get any closer than what it had been. Her brothers were peculiar in ways of being somehow what the other kids in high school were. They seemed to have lost sight of who they were before school. It had long been difficult to relate once society had its chauvinistic reign on them, for her brothers to say some of the things they did in the ways it would be said.

         Between belonging and not understanding people, Laura became a silent observer. She loved and cared for people, but mostly she cared about herself. Her family was together settled to what changed outside of themselves, mostly whatever was on TV. Out of her talking less with them, they didn’t have a chance to know her as she grew out of the time when she belonged to them. From this, her parents still confronted her as though she were a child. There would be times going to movies, to bookstores, to beer parties with one brother, to the country roads with friends to drink or get high to come back to a family she deeply but barely knew.

The dog’s eyes expressed gratitude to this and every moment alive with people who cared enough to keep her around and feed her, in chance encounters after waiting while they were away. Without them, she feared to have been forgotten, to sleep and forget.

Laura walked, steadfast. Her mouth was shut. She was used to having her mouth shut. It seemed she wanted justice and had resorted to silence. She could’ve carried the attitude her situation wasn’t fair at the same time she was esteemed by the experiences it brought.

The dog walked ahead, perked. It was difficult to grasp that things would be okay, but the dog made it appear nothing was wrong.

Laura came to where her car was parked, not far from the old, white barn, the lengthy grass, dancing and being matted down by the breeze...the feedyard. She opened her car door and retrieved a tote from the passenger seat. She left her carved box of her supply under the seat.

Khounsiva, curious and wagging her tail, wanted Laura to stay and not go anywhere with the car.

Laura came out of the car with the tote and shut the door. As she turned around, Khounsiva jumped up toward her on hind legs with her paws outstretched just to touch her, reminding Laura of how everyone had tried with her and how innocent they were. Laura had no time for anyone. “No, Siva.”

Laura slowly followed the lane to the back of the property with Khounsiva at her side. They walked along the side of the white and ochre machine shed and the two pale, weathered sheds soon to collapse, the old metal piled between them, the trees above them where robins could still build nests.

Something was meant to forego with the friends she lost touch with....

The leaves of the grove rustled in the breeze ahead as Laura proceeded up the path. This had been her home. Would she never return to in the same light held of it as a child? Whenever she returned, it was another step away from her youth and a beloved past.

The high trees ahead were almost her own as they had been before. Yet for her  living for some time in Omaha, it was barren of people. She should’ve remained with family and friends who would altogether remain young and not give up on what their hearts knew of each other.

Weeds and junk overwhelmed the path around her.

Laura was always in an opposite role with others, transforming her into quiet opposition and a yearning for someone closer to her heart. Besides her time with her great aunt, she’d spent no time with people in the past few years....

She moved forward past the machine shed with a glance at another barn that had fallen. She could hear the snap of the electric fence at another shed where antlions often were and probably were now, away from rain.

It was a challenge for her mother to raise them, but perhaps she also didn’t want them to leave. It wasn’t fair for Laura to have to go on when she was about to forget whatever she was thinking, and this happened many times when they were things she should come to know better....

Here was shade underneath the mulberry trees which hung over what was now a weedy path. The wild marijuana was as tall as her, and she began weaving through it, stepping them down at the thought of it turning her around to give up. Laura was now someone of Omaha but got around to places like this and knew what to do even though the weeds were forbidding her to go any further.

With television, she couldn’t feel more stubborn or rejected with all the attitudes from strangers, the bullshit thrown into people’s living rooms in every way nonsense had. Otherwise, maybe Laura would be with her mom.

Soon, she came through the weeds to the end of the grove where it met with a bean field. Standing there, she was ready for new experiences because much had come to pass, a peaceful thought, invited by the silence of the grove, the bean field ready for her to go escape, the time she had, the cool breeze, and Khounsiva. Perhaps this moment was a start to something. As if people were around her and she was mindful of them, she took out a cigarette and lit up. By now, she was used to Omaha.

She remained underneath the trees and turned to face back to where she came as if waiting for someone with the feeling she’d prefer to be with anyone now. There were times with Rachel, times with anyone and then it was her last relationship...He was too controlling. She loved him, but he accused her of not helping, even made threats when it got to be too much and she wanted him to leave. Lack of money often brought them to fight. Lack in her ability to be more for him had set in after the first fight.

She couldn’t get herself to remember. It was a nervous love where he deserved to be happy, and he wasn’t happy enough with her. Their time together was somehow just another step away from everyone. Once, she had seen snow melting on his shoes at the door to their apartment while he was cooking, and she saw it as one more sign of his childhood amidst the speed of everything. She loved what she knew of his childhood, and she cried about him being angry enough to fight with anyone because it wasn’t just her.

For a moment, she lost her patience with the surrounding grove.

She looked down at her feet with some of the grass to her knees. It was a dream to finally meet someone who would share the same kindness with her that she intended for anyone.

Khounsiva watched Laura as Laura sat on old machinery, lifting her ears at whatever sound Laura could make. Perhaps the machinery would collapse. She was a timid dog but happy this moment, seemingly smiling with her tongue out before yawning.

Laura was born December Seventh, 1978. This was August, 2003.

With people, Laura tried to be mature and patient, even with this last relationship. Her respect for others came from knowing as many people as she did. The high school had many people likeminded to one another. Their apparent ease had separated her from them, as it didn’t appear to be enough to survive. They all seemed to be functioning to a common naivete, difficult for her to ever open up to, and she rarely did. It was a constant joy for them to share what they knew. Laura couldn’t deny that it was the same for her. Many, perhaps all of them, admired her from whatever way she shared what she knew.

         When she spoke, it was often quiet. Also, she was serious because she wanted to be right by everyone and also get to the point of it all. No one seemed to see what Laura could. She became less affected with people. It didn’t seem fair to be in a world where no one cared about people in the way she did. Or they did but under masks that seemed to say they didn’t.

         She became impatient with the cigarette burning halfway and put it out. She looked again through the grove, only to find that she wasn’t mindful of it but instead of her past.

         Aware of her surroundings, she looked toward the house, wondering what her mother thought of her, if Renee thought of her at all. Renee would be alone watching television again, probably always an invitation to Laura to watch it with her. There was doubt that Renee was happy being alone.

         Nothing was changing for Laura. She was astray. Whatever led her away was unfair to her parents because they were extraordinary for her when she was young. Perhaps she had rejected them after getting her license? They could’ve been more for her if they tried...but she wanted nothing more than to continue knowing them as the family they always were. Being here meant to her that none of it was lasting.

She was a wanderer, and it meant she could be losing her grasp of people. Enough with this. She stood up and coughed. What was an oppressive look on her became one of disgust.

She and the dog started walking into the bean field and the open sunlight. She ran her hand over the leaves as she walked swiftly further, believing her efforts with people had failed. She had become quieter with everyone in whatever moment didn’t communicate, and she realized it. She was rushing, so she stopped to look around.
Sparrows flew above, and she watched in anticipation from the middle of the field. To the south, of course, the grove. Then the fields to the southwest. There could’ve been a bald eagle in the distant trees at the creek’s bend.

Hesitantly, she took out her camera. Without looking at the camera after she had it facing her and turned on, she took a picture of herself. Her expression would later reveal her to be someone who negated herself with others, away from the emotions she was running from and toward the emotions she wanted.

She walked further with her head down, concerned. She wore a hematite ring, jeans, and a white tube dress. She had black hair, a defined jaw, and a light body from undereating. Often, she was timid at the same time she was curious. It may have been she was losing her way.

As she slowed in her walk and let the bag drop to her hand, Laura came to a few large marijuana plants she had planted early in the spring. In their luring sway in the wind, they had been waiting for her. They crowded each other and stood high among the beans as something hidden only until a person came to them, in a part of the world no one would travel.

Laura let her bag down finally. She took out her scissors, reached for one of the buds, and began collecting. Renee seemed anxious about everything, and it wasn’t the same for Laura. Laura knew she could do little to change it when it wouldn’t be understood. Renee would simply deny it in her happiness, and Laura didn’t want to change that part of her.

The dog watched her. Khounsiva was obliged to be the escort, being more of the outdoors, smiling as it allowed her to rest for a moment. She was buried in bean plants with her head sticking out. Then, ears perked, mouth shut, she looked behind Laura at something. Perhaps a deer. Laura turned to look.

There was nothing.

Laura looked back at Khounsiva, who was already panting with her tongue out, a smile again, and Laura smiled.

Laura continued cutting with the plant. The last time she went to the bar, nothing happened. It was long for her not having anything to do, and it was common with many people living uneventfully in Nebraska. The disguise of many was pretentious, happy, and wild, all she ever knew. Perhaps she wouldn’t go.

There was the time when she was driving through the cemetery and her friend excitedly told her to drive down a hill on a maintenance road. Laura had turned onto it and didn’t see a road, so she turned the car around. When the shift cable broke, the car was stuck in reverse, so she had to drive backwards down the hill, running over gravestones. They had been smoking then.

Laura smiled again. She didn’t expect that memory to come back to her. She straightened her face and concentration. Maybe she would smoke with this friend or Tiffany.

         She didn’t want to take off too much of the plant, so she worked carefully. She was working on a book, and nothing else was important to her lately. She pulled a few of the smaller portions with her hands and worked with haste to move on, to not doubt herself this moment. After some lighthearted reflection to what seemed to be the answer to her writing, and a few gusts of wind, she was done. She tied the plastic bag and put it in her tote. There was more for later.
She would take some clothes from her old bedroom to cover the marijuana in the trunk of her car, or the backseat because it would be less suspicious.

“You ready to go?” she said as she got her bag over her shoulder. She seemed affected, as if the years were dragging for her. It wasn’t fair to assume much of a person coming out of their formative years, and she was one to notice. She started walking and tried ignoring the bag.

She had responsibility to herself but didn’t believe she was making a mistake. Despite some of the doubts about the family, it wasn’t bothering her in any way. Everyone was easy to accept.

         As she walked, she couldn’t grasp that she finally had what she’d been waiting all this time for. She wondered about people again and felt more rejected lately than it ever had been, where she was left to thinking about anyone. It wasn’t real enough.

         Then, she simply had what she came for. All to hear was the breeze and her muffled steps over the dirt as she walked in haste to return to the car. She finally approached her car without another thought and left the bag in the backseat.

         With her box, she proceeded to the house and entered the kitchen.

         “Mom?” she called. Laura hesitated for a moment, then went up the stairs from another room; everything about her mom winced at her.

         She passed through the first room, dark and private with a television missing after one brother took off with it. The room needed cleaning, and it reminded her of her childhood but more of her recent past, where times here were at an interval and she wouldn’t take much notice of the room at all. She saw herself to be alone, and it meant she needed people. Approaching her bedroom, she could reconnect with who she was before the responsibilities in Omaha. Little about her had changed because she always had the same approach.

In private, she sat at a desk with the box and opened it, taking out the marijuana, the papers, and a small screwdriver for packing. She was patient, and she knew she had no one.

         Without hesitating, she was preparing the paper with pinches of weed spread from end to end until rolling and licking it. She wanted to talk to her mom, but she didn’t know anything to speak of yet. She also wanted a connection to the farm before she left. In no time, she was done packing with the screwdriver and twisting the ends.

         Laura came out to the roof where a landing was. She didn’t want to rush, so she huddled on the roof and waited. There were tree branches above and around her in motion with what was now a seductive breeze. Then, she stared at the horizon past the town. Many things had happened in her life, and nothing could remind her of it. She smiled a half smile and sparked the joint.

         She began smoking, then stopped, reminded that she couldn’t remember anything of her past. It bothered her this moment. Laura looked around again and breathed. She didn’t want to waste any of it, but she looked at what she was smoking, wondering if she may already be feeling it. She waited and held a few more puffs.

         After a moment, she leaned back while the high set in. She then smoked until the joint was finished. Birds began chirping as if they’d been watching her in silence. She felt energy filling her body and mind.

         She was happy it was still afternoon. She even smiled because the sounds within the scene satisfied her. At other times, nothing was ever this reachable. She could see it as the emotional side she never could connect with without the high.

         Laura returned inside and shut the stubborn door. Silence in the room welcomed her. She packed up her box and found herself in the first room before knowing it.  She slowly made her way down the steps as her mom was fixing something to eat.

         “You’re welcome to eat with us,” her mother said as Laura entered the kitchen, making eye contact. Laura smiled. “How was the walk?” Renee was now serious. It was a suspicious side.

Laura readjusted. “Good…I’ll be right back.” She went out the door to her car again, hiding the box under the seat. She had to get some clothes. “Fuck,” she whispered.
The birds still went about their routine, and Khounsiva was elsewhere. Laura returned to the kitchen in speed. “I have to get clothes from upstairs.”

         “Okay,” Renee said, commanding the stove.

She gave Laura a questioning look. Laura couldn’t ignore it when she turned to go upstairs. It was a child’s game to get high, and she was wrong for doing it. She quickly ignored this and went up the stairs and to her bedroom. She found herself absorbing the moment and recalling someone of her past again. She couldn’t focus on the task, but she knew what clothes to bring...It was difficult for her to talk with her mom.
Laura retreated into the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs. She washed the smell off her hands. Then, she brushed her teeth and put lotion on her face and hands as if she was in a dream.

In the kitchen, Renee was at the table. Laura put the clothes in the living room so they would be ready to take out. Then, she sat at the table with her mom. Everything had a stigma, but the television was off.

“What’s on your mind?” Renee asked.

Laura had been gazing around the room before meeting a glance with her mother when she spoke. “It’s difficult to talk to people now. All people say is bullshit.”
Laura tried smiling in spite of this, to be gentle to the subject and show she would not always give in to doubt. But then she was serious. She said, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

         It appeared Laura had given plenty of thought to this. “Well…if you keep that perspective, that’s all you might see in people.” Laura’s way made Renee calm to it.

         Laura had a moment to think. “But it will allow me to keep questioning things, and I still appreciate everything.” She wasn’t a teenager, nor was it overconfidence.

“Yes.”

         “I just think it’s too easy to forget everything.” Now it appeared Laura was giving up, though she wanted to reach her mom somehow. “I think many people don’t know what love is supposed to be, because we are distracted by the most insignifant things.” She got her focus back. “Most people don’t care enough to love. They’d rather just watch a movie.”

“Well-”

“Too many things escape us. They are things we should know.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Things just pass us by like All We Do…Is Die.” She was tormented, and it was heavy on her now.

“Do you think this often?” This was something new to Renee, and she was concerned.

“It’s just something I know.”

“I believe other things will help change your mind. I can’t tell you what they will be, but if you keep to the positive, it will help you.” It helped Renee to say this because  it could finally bring Laura closer to trusting her.

Laura gazed at her mother. “I try.”

“Look at me; I’ve lived this long and nothing’s bothered me, so you’ll be okay,” which came with a smile because it was right.

Laura hesitated. “I guess…Are you going to Omaha this next weekend?” She lost her reach, saying this.

They were back again. Renee was cheerful and took the time to nervously get up. “You know me; I’m always going to Omaha. I don’t know...Maybe I will. How’s Sunday?”

“Sunday’s good.” Laura gazed at the time on the microwave - it was after four. “I better go now.” She was almost too quiet to hear.

“You sure?”

         “Yes.” Laura went to the living room and grabbed the clothes, and Renee had followed her. “Sorry I can’t give you a hug,” Laura said.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m fine. You know we’ll miss you at dinner.” The room was quiet.

They almost interrupted each other. “Come back anytime, okay?”

For her mother to say it the way she did refocused Laura. “Yeah...I will.” Perhaps Renee could say more. Laura didn’t know she was gazing at her.

“Let me get the door for you.” Renee had a mind to say that she cared about Laura then, but it was not what people did, and she was unsure of herself about how Laura would take it.

Laura entered the sunlight again. Perhaps it was better being alone.

After situating the clothes over the marijuana, Laura finally entered the car, sitting for a moment still. The bar was downtown. She didn’t see herself as being someone with anything in common with them. She wouldn’t go at night because it’d be even more people with nothing in common but living in Nebraska, which may mean less to them than it did for her, or something far different. Or perhaps it was far different and much less than the way she knew it. It was easy to see that people were fed up with each other.

She started the car and drove down the lane....

         Through the kitchen window, Renee watched Laura leave on the road. She sipped from her coffee and continued staring, wanting to have said something more, anything to make Laura happy or proud to be who she was. She knew Laura had been smoking and didn’t know what to think about it. She had doubted that it had any advantages, but Laura seemed like she was doing well. She put her cup down.

Laura considered what her mother said. Was it all wrong to even mention? At the intersection, she looked both ways and didn’t give it another thought.

She made a turn right and drove up the road over a hill. Passing the peak, she held a commanding view of everything ahead. Cattle grazed in another pasture. She passed a neighbor’s home with speed and felt the high. She could almost cry knowing how nervous she felt moving on, away from her past.

She rolled the window down and listened to the traffic on the highway.

Over a hill, on the meandering highway, and past an open expanse of fields, she turned onto another highway, heading southeast. By now, she thoroughly felt the high.

As an added sense of defeat, she knew she missed opportunities to learn more of herself and overlooked what her family meant to her. She found it a challenge to remain a daughter when she was past the stage of needing her family in any role. Being an adult meant she had to grow away from the family.

Nothing stopped the necessity of the job and living on her own. It separated her from everyone as another distraction. She feared this would be what she was set to be for a long time. Maybe she wasn’t prepared. She had expected more.

Back home, Renee still stood at the window, sobbing. Maybe Laura was right, but to understand her heart through this was difficult. Renee felt at a disadvantage not knowing what Laura meant or how she understood it. For Renee not to know what it was, it seemed to be something she needed to know. Questioning where Laura was going and what she would do, Renee regained herself as a mother, though with the belief she never had anything important to say to people. And she couldn’t think the way Laura did. She somehow wasn’t the influence for Laura that she needed to be. At least Laura was growing up, but her departure this afternoon marked the time she wouldn’t remain the daughter she once was. She continued crying silently and believed it wasn’t fair for Laura to call it bullshit.

Passing through a small town, Laura looked for cops and checked her speed. It was a close town with no other purpose for outsiders than to fill up with fuel. She didn’t just think of pollution; she realized it.

Laura sped up as she left the town and became mindful of the marijuana.

Oncoming cars went by with a following silence, and her high quieted everything. Following the speed limit seemed slow, and it only brought to feel the high even more. She knew nothing too complicated would come to her this moment. She had the right idea about everything, and it was the perfect time for a cigarette.

Passing a marshland along the highway, Laura slowed for another town and started to speed up out of it before noticing she was through Hooper. After she got on the divided highway, the sound of the cars continued, but it was further away. She was in a daze, smoking.