Margaret Allie Brandon (Jasper's Mate Story)

Chapter 3

Margaret's POV:

The new guy in history, Jasper, he seemed nice enough for a guy.  But as I told him in person I don't make a good friend. Once I get close to someone and begin to trust them, I dream how they die and then I can't focus on being friends with them. Once I know how they will meet their end, I can only think about how they will die, knowing that there is nothing that I can do to stop it or prevent it in any way that I try. The only person I've managed to let get close to me in the last five years is my art teacher, but even seeing and feeling her pass away in her sleep surrounded by loved ones at a ripe old age still tore into my heart.

Not to mention that I would have to remind myself not to flinch every time he came near me and what good does that do as a friend. Hell, I couldn't even let myself trust him because in my mind all he would ever do is harm me in some way. His eyes told me that he would never hurt me, told me he was safe, but I couldn't trust that. Randy's eyes had looked that way when he and my mom first got together and look how that turned out.

When he asked about the bruises, I had started to have a panic attack in the classroom. I thought maybe the makeup had worn off and he could see them, as could anyone else if that had happened. Then I began to think that he would say something to one of the teachers or staff here at the school. I had turned the worksheet in as fast as I could and left the room, knowing that I would have to apologize to my next teacher for being late as I calmed myself in the bathroom.

The makeup hadn't worn off and was perfectly blended, so it made me wonder why he knew I was wearing any to begin with, or rather why he knew it was covering bruises. The fears I had about him telling a teacher seemed unfounded as I went the rest of the day and no teacher approached me. I wasn't called into the office. In fact, no one said anything to me, just as most of the year will go on as it has since I started here my freshman year. I didn't have any other classes with Jasper, and only had art with one of his sisters, but the teacher talked the whole time and didn't place any of us at tables yet. For that I was extremely thankful as it meant I was left alone for the rest of the day.

The end of the school day came and I found myself dreading going back to the house, the fear of what was waiting for me hitting me full force. He had told me last night that since I had been acting more disobedient than usual that he would have a special punishment for me when he came home today. I could only imagine the worst, and I'm sure even that isn't bad enough. I braced myself as I pulled my jacket around my shoulders tighter and left the safety of the school building and headed to hell.

The 30-minute walk passed too quickly for my liking as I was soon walking over the threshold. I listened in the hallway for a few moments letting out a sigh of relief as I didn't hear Randy or any of his friends in the house. I had learned long ago that just because his truck was gone didn't mean the house was always safe. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed some cereal and milk, eating it as quickly as I could so I could disappear to my room before Randy got home. I got my wish as I was in my bedroom a good hour before I heard his truck pull up in the driveway.

I waited as I heard his footsteps walk into the kitchen, the fridge opening and a bottle clinking told me that he was drinking already. I finished what little work I had and had started sketching when I heard his footsteps walk past my door and into his own room. I heard the door shut and felt myself let out a sigh of relief as it did, knowing that I was safe for tonight from him. Looks as if tonight will be a break for me after all, something I'm not about to complain about.

I looked down at the sketch I was working on and saw that it was Jasper looking out from me on the white piece of paper. His eyes not quite perfect as it was too hard to reflect the pain and curiosity that he seemed to hold. Those eyes.....those golden eyes were possibly the most beautiful things I had ever seen. They held so much emotion and depth, and I can't get them out of my mind. An artist's dream to find and draw, but also something that would never be copied exactly.


Alice's POV:

I smiled as I saw another vision of Jasper's future with Margaret beside him. I saw her eyes sparkle and watched them both laughing next to each other as she leaned into his side. There were still parts of her future without Jasper that I couldn't see, almost as if it was fate's way of telling me something was going to happen whether I saw it or not. But I didn't let it bother me as I watched the vision of them together start to fade.

I was happy for my brother having finally found his mate, even if he doesn't realize it yet. She calmed him almost as quickly as he could calm any of us. He didn't even seem to notice yet that when he was with her his bloodlust was almost non-existent. But he'll realize it soon enough, just as she realizes that he would be a good friend to have. I only wish I could make them realize it a bit sooner so that I could gain another sister and give her a full closet makeover. Patience never was a virtue I possessed, but right now it seemed as if I would have to learn. 


Margaret's POV: (Slight Time skip here just a week)

The first week of school ended without any problems and for once I was left untouched, or rather unbeaten by Randy for the first week of school. The only problem I had was that every time we had a group worksheet in History I was forced to work with Jasper, which in the first week alone was two days. It wasn't that I didn't like him. In fact, I almost felt calm around him, which surprised me every time I realized how I felt. I put it down to his lingering southern accent that reminded me of my mom's before she died, something that I was once told that I had picked up from her.

In a normal world I could see myself being friends with Jasper, but I just knew that having a friend and letting someone get close to me was wrong. I knew that there were days when I didn't want to have to fight anymore, that I wanted to just give up. Then were a few rare days where I wanted live life again as I had before when mom was alive. But I also knew that I didn't want to know how he would die, as the idea of the light from his golden eyes fading made me feel empty.

The pain his death could cause me didn't worry me at all, which was odder still.
It was just the idea of his death, of his ceasing to exist, that made my heart ache for a reason I couldn't explain. His eyes seemed to pierce my soul when he looked at me, but for some reason I didn't mind it. My sketch pad was already full of sketches of him in an attempt to capture everything that those golden eyes and charming smile portrayed, but I couldn't capture everything. I doubt even if Michelangelo could have done such a thing.

I looked at the newest sketch I was working on and then heard his footsteps pass by my room again. I let out a sigh of relief as I knew he was going to bed to be up for the tailgate party one of his friends was hosting all day tomorrow. He had barely said a word to me all week and he hadn't laid a hand on me either. It was both a blessing and a curse that I knew would come for me eventually.

I knew that for him to be so docile this past week, it would only mean his anger would build and the next time he did beat me it would be ten times worse. This was how my life had been the last few years. He would go three or maybe even four weeks barely speaking a word to me, then it would be three weeks of absolute hell. But for now, I was thankful as it left me alone with my sketches and my thoughts, without the physical pain for company.