It's realizing just how close you've come to death.

"You're going to kill yourself."

She could feel the older woman's eyes boring a hole in the top of her head, as it remained bowed, her eyes transfixed on the table in front of her.

When she was finished, the girl stood up and, for the first time, looked in the woman's direction. The girl's blank stare looked far beyond the woman standing in front of her, but the woman just smiled and nodded.

She left quickly and got in her car, trying to leave behind the gravity of what she had just heard.

"She has no idea what she's talking about," she said to herself, with an accompanying eye roll.

Lighting up a cigarette, she navigated the backroads back to her apartment.

There, a thick cloud of smoke greeted her, the haze hanging heavy at the top of the stairs. She sat down on the couch and inhaled deeply as the purple-grey smoke swirled around her.

She was seeking relief, but it was slow to come. She tried again, breathing fiercely, holding her breath until she was coughing.

She sat back, frustrated, and closed her eyes. Without welcome, the woman's face appeared in her minds eye. She heard her words vividly. This time she couldn't ignore it-the words repeated over and over in her head, bringing her back to reality with a jolt.

"I...I'm gonna go smoke a cigarette."

Her roommates just nodded as she made her way outside. But she didn't stop on the porch, she didn't even light a smoke. Without thinking she opened her car door, started the engine and began to drive away.

He phone buzzed a few minutes later. He roommates noticed her absence.

"Dude whered u go?!?!?!?!?!"

The woman's face appeared again, and a hand that was anything but hers, shut the phone and continued the drive.

This post is in response to a prompt at Write on Edge-The soundtrack of our words.
(In my head, this song plays as she drives away.)