The Good Sister by Jamie Kain

Author:Jamie Kain
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Twenty-Three

Rachel

I can’t stop thinking about all the ways Sarah was brave and I am not. She is really gone now. There is no more of her sitting in the next room, her ghost appearing to me every time I see that damn urn, because the urn is empty now.

But her ghost is maybe still here.

I don’t believe in ghosts, but then again maybe I should.

I am haunted as fuck.

That’s what I am.

It’s becoming clearer to me by the day, because I cannot sleep anymore. I don’t want to eat. I just want something to happen that will obliterate my memory.

Or me.

Either one.

Because I apparently don’t have the guts to do it myself.

Maybe that’s the lack of sleep talking. I have never been the suicidal type. Yet having Krishna leave me standing alone on the street in the middle of the freaking night, and scattering my sister’s ashes tonight … it’s like all signs point to life as I know it ending.

And what’s a girl to do with depressing signs like that?

So when it is four in the morning and I’m still not asleep, I instead find myself thinking about Krishna. I sit in bed with my laptop and do an Internet search of his name and the meditation center. I find the center’s website, which has a lame-ass bio page for each of its instructors, including him. In his photo, he smiles out at the camera in that way he has, as if he is peace itself.

His bio says the same kind of stuff he has already told me, only less detailed and more fakey-fake, so I click back to the results page and look for anything else juicier that I might find about him in less official places. Like, do Buddhist monks have Facebook pages?

He doesn’t, but I find an interview of him on some punk-rock Buddhism website, which seems like a ridiculous contradiction if you ask me, but nobody has. The interview has a couple more pictures of him—one in which he’s sitting on a tree stump looking off into the distance, and another of him laughing as he stands in front of a class of meditators.

I stare at him, try to burn those images into my memory. Something is seriously wrong with me because I think I’m falling in love with a guy who has no interest in having sex with me, or anyone else.

How could this go anywhere interesting?

I read the interview, which is mostly about how Krishna credits his recovery from his addiction on his spiritual practice, and how he works a lot with recovering addicts, and how he struggles to stay true to his Buddhist values with blah blah blah …

I stop reading, but then I force myself to go back and pay attention to every last word because I have to know more about this guy who has me up all night and not giving a rat’s ass about the other two guys in my life.

Then I find a few other references to him online.

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