before the storm
450 Words
Before the drugs.
Before the alcohol.
Before hospital walls and heart monitors.
Before the flashing lights, the wreckage, the regret, and the wheelchair…
There was just a little girl named Jessica.
And she was alive in every sense of the word.
She was loud. The kind of loud that echoed through grocery stores while her parents begged her to settle down. The kind of loud that filled classrooms with laughter and annoyed teachers who mistook energy for trouble. Jessica never meant to be “too much.” She simply felt everything deeply. Excitement exploded out of her like fireworks.
She climbed trees higher than she probably should have. Rode bikes too fast down gravel roads. Came home with scraped knees, dirty shoes, and stories nobody fully believed. The outdoors felt more like home than four walls ever did. Forest trails became kingdoms. Skateparks became battlefields she refused to lose. Empty streets at sunset felt like freedom.
She was fearless then.
Or maybe she was just too young to understand fear yet.
At night, she would lay in bed staring at the ceiling, imagining her future like it was some giant movie waiting to happen. She pictured herself becoming somebody important. Somebody wild and unforgettable. Somebody who escaped her small-town life and turned it into something beautiful.
There was hope in her.
Real hope.
The adults around her saw it too. Teachers said she was bright when she actually focused. Family members shook their heads and laughed, saying, “That girl’s going to either rule the world or drive us all crazy.”
Maybe both.
Jessica had a smile that could light up a room when it was genuine. She loved hard, laughed hard, and lived fast long before speed became dangerous. She wanted excitement. Adventure. Something bigger than ordinary life. Even as a child, standing still felt impossible.
But underneath all that noise was a little girl trying to understand herself.
Trying to figure out why her mind raced so much. Why silence felt uncomfortable. Why she always needed more excitement, more movement, more feeling. She didn’t know it yet, but those same restless parts of her would one day lead her down roads she never imagined walking.
At ten years old, life still looked endless.
No needles.
No bottles hidden away.
No overdose stories whispered in shame.
No waking up in hospital beds wondering if she’d survive another night.
Just Jessica.
A kid with messy dreams and scraped-up elbows.
A girl who still believed life was going to turn out okay.
And honestly?
It could have.
That’s the hardest part about looking back.
Nothing about her beginning looked doomed.
Nobody sees the storm when the sky is still blue.
- Writer
