Brasil Posted April 21, 2004 Share Posted April 21, 2004 She smoked often in high school. I don?t recall ever seeing her without a cigarette in the morning, before homeroom. Each morning, as I stepped up to the school doors, I would see her standing on the far side of the building, smoking her morning cigarette. Sometimes I would stand and watch her, and sometimes she would smoke her first cigarette fast enough to allow time for a second. Sometimes she would even have time for a third. The bell for homeroom would ring, usually after her second cigarette, and she would come running to the door. Of course, she would have to stop and cough along the way, and catch her breath, but she still ran. It was sad to see, really. She ran track up until our junior year. She had to drop out due to health issues. Her parents and coaches believed it to be her asthma returning, but the students knew the real reason. I had all eight periods with her, and I saw the effects, too. Her teeth were stained yellow; she had a wheezing, hollow cough, and that putrid smell of smoke followed her around, suffocating those around her. The smell was oppressive. It assaulted my nose and it was so heavy that I could taste it on the tip of my tongue. She would reek of smoke the entire day. Each class she would ask the teacher if she could go use the bathroom. I sat close to the door in most classes, so I would watch her exit, and get assaulted by that obnoxious stench, that smell that infests everything. A few minutes would pass and she?d enter, a heavy dose of perfume sprayed on to mask the aroma. She would stroll back to her desk, content with her nicotine hit, still craving more, and coughing all the while. Lunch was fifth period, and I watched her go ask to go to the bathroom, where she would smoke two, maybe three cigarettes. I imagined what her lungs must look like. Grayed on the outside, black on the inside. Dead tissue everywhere. The parts of her lungs that were still functional were fighting to survive. It was a disturbing image, but very close to reality, I was sure. The next morning I was in homeroom early to finish up some schoolwork. The rest of my class filed in, and I heard that familiar ring. A few seconds passed, and then one of my classmates screamed. ?Oh, my God! Someone help her! Call an ambulance!? We rushed to the window and saw a body. Our teachers told us to stay there, but we didn?t listen. An ambulance had just pulled up as we ran outside. They raced to the body and checked for a pulse, then covered her with a white sheet. I didn?t see the face, but I saw the cigarettes. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!Register a new account
Already have an account? Sign in here.Sign In Now