She had a book open on her lap and didn’t look up when I drove by. A block down the road I doubled back then parked across the street and watched. Jessica’s voice was buzzing in my head. No words, just a low steady pulse of mumbles and noise. I tried my best to push the sounds away, but my thoughts seemed to go by too fast, one after the other. I couldn’t slow them down. I leaned over and grabbed a new bottle from the floor in front of the passenger seat. My hand wavered, but I managed to open it and get it to my lips. I concentrated on each movement, talking myself through it. Lift, drink, swallow, breathe. Lift, drink, swallow, breathe. I knew if I focused, I’d be able to slow my mind down long enough to stop the voices. An old trick, one that I’d used when things got bad, before I had my pills. Sometimes it worked. When I was younger, the voice I’d heard most often was my father’s. It would scream through me, ripping and destroying. Jessica’s voice was different, soothing.
