Jack be Nimble

Jack be nimble, Jack be quick

She sits across from you. She’s in her mid-twenties. Maybe thirties even. You fold one leg over the other and cross your fingers on your lap. You look at her over the rim of your glasses.

“Ms. Anderson, can you tell me what brings you here today?” You ask. You notice how she fidgets. Oh. She’s so precious.

“I’m back on antidepressants, and I just feel really, really empty,” She tells you. You nod. Sympathetic.

Jack jumped over a candlestick

“Can you try and describe that further, maybe try and interpret it in your own way?” You offer. She nods. She fidgets again.

“I don’t really know to be honest. It’s like…”

“There’s no point?” You suggest with a sly smile. She nods quickly and your heart seems to quicken. She looks relieved almost.

“Yeah,” She breathes. You nod.

“Have you ever considered taking your own life?”

Jack jumped high, Jack jumped low

She shakes her head, looking down at her hands.

“I don’t know if I could do it,” She admits. You nod.

“I understand,” You say. “There are numerous incidents each year. Overdoses, slit wrists, hangings, even shootings.” You notice how her lip twitches. She nods. “Most in cases where the individual feels empty.” She looks up. Her eyes are glassed. She nods.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Anderson,” You ask.

“You didn’t refer to them as victims.”

Jack jumped over, and burned his toe

“Is that how you would refer to someone who got what they wanted?” You propose. You see the flicker in her eyes. This is what you want. You mask a smile. “Ms. Anderson?” You prompt. She nods.

“Yes,” She murmurs, her eyes meeting yours. They don’t appear sad anymore. They look hopeful. “Thank you.”

Jack be slick, Jack be prose

You’re notified the next morning. Ms. Anderson had hung herself. Found by her roommate only hours after.

You put on your mask, you nod, say you wish you could have done more for her.

But you add another tally to your list. Another dead, another to go.

Jack they’ll find you, six feet below.