Right now, Jackie’s voice is unremitting. I could hear her young, buzz-y voice telling me, “Do what is right. Do what is right. Do what is right.” I could hear her lachrymose tone. I could see her puckered pout, squinted eyes, and her purple hoodie. I could feel how pathetic I was that time. She told me this when I almost bailed out on hanging out with her before drama practice (she ditched detention for me!).

I did what was right. I followed her.

My eyes are welling up, but I cannot cry. Jackie, I could hear you. This time I muted you. I ran away from a close friend, literally. I left the movie unfinished and burst through the door. I ran. I ran. I made sure he couldn’t see me. I took a turn and ran past two blocks of a residential area and paced left toward a far Coffee Bean. I wanted to retrogress to my typical halcyon state. I dislike hiding.

I dislike myself.

When there is no one to hate, we hate ourselves.

Update:

Thank you, Paul Pierce.