Jessica Klein
Bio
Therapist by day, writer by night.
Stories (9/0)
Why We Need To Talk About "It Ends With Us"
This is the last time I will warn you as a reader for spoilers! If you don't want to have the book, It Ends With Us, spoiled for you, move on to another read. If you haven't read this heart-wrenching novel, I highly recommend buying it from Amazon. I promise you will not regret it.
By Jessica Klein2 years ago in Fiction
Sky Call
I hadn’t heard my mother’s voice in twenty years. When the flight attendants anxiously told us to call our loved ones, I don’t know why I immediately found her name in my contacts. Elizabeth Shire. It was sitting there taunting me as my plane jerked downwards. My stomach lifted as we made a sharp decline before quickly leveling out again. I felt light as we dawdled in the sky. The masks dropped from the ceiling like marionettes, and I pulled mine over my hair and took slow breaths into it. It smelt like rubber and cleaning chemicals. The red lavatory light flickered green as a young man with a Cubs jersey rushed to the closest open seat. I took a sharp breath.
By Jessica Klein3 years ago in Fiction
An Unexpected Friend
Sixty-seven days. I was lost, presumed dead for sixty seven days before a rescue boat passed. I don’t know whether it was the hysteria caused by prolonged heat exposure or dehydration from the lack of water I had consumed. All I knew for sure was at that moment the boat touched the island, I felt scared. I was scared to go back, to leave this place that had brought me such comfort in our months together. Sixty seven days.
By Jessica Klein3 years ago in Fiction
Snowy Wonderland
Marigold. Snow flurries paint the forest with a blanket of white. If Bob Ross were to have painted a snowy landscape, this would have been the result. Breathtaking views of the mountains in the background with a speckling of trees in the foreground, all covered in a blanket of perfect, untouched snow. It is absolutely spectacular.
By Jessica Klein3 years ago in Families
To Whom It May Concern
To the doctor and nurses who delivered me and immediately wrapped me in a pink blanket to lay on my mother’s chest. From the moment I was born, I was assigned the color pink. You assigned me this color to identify me as a girl. I was destined to love pink, Barbies, and unicorns - not because of my nature or because that was what I had chosen, but because that is what girls are supposed to like. Why would we like anything else? Girls must wear cute pink dresses with pink bows in their hair.
By Jessica Klein3 years ago in Poets
Dawdling With Death
You don’t dawdle when you try to kill yourself. You pull the trigger, and you are done. You are never to be seen again living and breathing. They’ll close your casket because your face has been scarred with blood splatter and a hole from your chin through your skull.
By Jessica Klein3 years ago in Fiction