2 april 2017
the doorbell rings. one, two times. they grow more impatient as i pull a shirt over my head and walk over to check who it is.
it's jasmine. immediately, the door clicks open and she struts in, black denny's apron still soaked with the smell of burgers and sauces.
she makes herself comfortable with bottle of beer in hand. hard liquor, i respect that. no words are exchanged as she crosses her legs on a cushioned chair, taking a swig.
"hey, what's up?" i start.
the cold bottle departs from her lips, "nothing, just thought i'd swing by. we haven't talked in forever."
for a second, i'm embarrassed. i'd stopped going to church when i lost faith in god completely. the thought of keeping in touch with everyone i'd met there had never crossed my mind, ever.
"sorry about that, i just.." i peer to the chain around her neck. following the shiny interlocking pieces of metal, i see a cross in the middle, "i guess, i grew tired of everything. something happened, and i stopped believing in anything. it was me; i was the problem."
the slits of her eyes thinned, "what are you talking about?"
"about me not going to church," i say.
she laughs while she places the bottle carelessly on the table, "i don't care about that, silly. that place bores me to death; i'd consider you leaving as a blessing."
i appreciate her understanding.
me and jasmine had clicked almost instantly when we first met. she was next to the door of the fire escape route, watching her parents mingle with other parents. i'd gone at my own will, desperate to find something to kill the devil's voice in my head. to give me hope and light the way to happiness.
we were friends in a matter of seconds, after i approached her and asked her what she was doing there. her parents didn't mind, seeing me more of a son than a threat. how could they have thought disrespecting thoughts in such a holy place, after all.
but it all came to an end, as expected. like a candle, burning bright before it gets hit by something so unexpected, that it topples and the flame dies. my faith and hope both died that one day.
"who was the guy?" she questions, and i panic for a second, thinking she'd somehow read my mind and savaged my thoughts. i guess it didn't matter; whether she was referring to the guy i ate lunch with, or the guy that made me destroyed my hope in everything, i had the same answer, the same name.
"will," i glance over at the unfinished bottle, almost toppling, "can i have some?"
she gestures for me to take it. so i do, taking a large gulp. first the cigarette, now alcohol. fuck, that boy really knew how to play with my feelings.
"i recognised him from somewhere," she taps her temple, thinking. then her eyes widen and she's found her answer, "he's the guy who's girlfriend– "
"yes, he's the guy," i cut her off, distaste made obvious in my voice to warn her i didn't want to talk about it. not now, when me and will were just starting to patch up. just a single reminder of the incident made me want to throw up.
"you two talking again?" she's oblivious, and drunk.
"we wanted to put it past us," i confess. it's nice to finally tell someone. jasmine was not my closest friend– exactly the reason why i could tell her. she didn't go to my school. she didn't know the full story, only the parts i had selected carefully and had informed her of.
we talk for a good chunk of time, almost an hour, maybe. i tell her about what conversation we had had, and how good the food was. i leave out the part about him complimenting my temper.
"that's nice," she states bluntly upon listening to my words, "about time you grew up and got over it. it would have been such a waste not not to. but, be careful, ok? you don't want everything repeating itself again."
a spark ignites in me. anger. how much did she know about will which gave her the right to tell me to be careful? was that what she saw him as, a monster waiting for something to ruin?
"for your information, i think he's a great guy," i say, fist clenched so tight i thought it would pop off my arm and roll to the ground, "he has an amazing sense of a humor, and he's honest in what he says. i don't think there's anything wrong with that guy. in fact, i'd go far enough to say there definitely isn't anything wrong about the guy. who do you think you are? treating him like some fucking wild beast in a cage? he's not, and you don't know anything. christ, you don't have the right to express a single opinion on him, thinking you know everything about him because of one incident. well, news flash, you don't."
she's taken aback when i finish. the fury in my vision fades. i no longer see a threat, i see a harmless good-hearted friend who only meant to help. i messed up again. i fucking messed up again.
"i.. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to imply it in that way," she's trembling, "i was just– i mean, knowing what happened between the both of you, i didn't want to see you in so much.. pain, again. because it hurt me too, jordan."
it was the second tantrum i had thrown today. both at someone who didn't even deserve it. shit, i was a fucking mess.
i look up at her from my crumbling posture. face falling into my hands. supported by my knees. i don't know if i'm crying. i don't know if it's the alcohol. but i do know i need to be alone.
"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i didn't mean it," i repeat, "i fucked everything up. it just came out. i didn't mean it. i'm sorry."
she smiles, "that's ok. i'll leave, just say the word."
"please leave. i'm sorry, my mind isn't in a good place right now. it's not you. it's everything."
jasmine pushes herself off the chair, hair bobbing along with her movements. her shadow moves further away, but then it stops.
"can i just ask you one more thing, though?" she turns back around to face me.
"shoot." it's the least i can go after all the shit i'd just put her through.
"was it true? the rumor? you never told me," she whispers. i have to strain my ears to listen, "it must be a horrible time to ask, but–"
"parts of it, yes. not everything, but on the most part, yes," i answer honestly.
i explain one last detail. witness the fall of disappointment on her face, the drain of colour in her skin, the extinguish of the burning flame in her eyes. i thought it had gone after i had left church. i realise then, for her, it never had been until now.
and in a flash, i see myself in her. i see the funeral of her optimism and faith, quick and sudden, any remains of what she used to be blown by the wind and never to be seen again. i see myself, a year ago, tearing up the bible and burning it in the fireplace, laughing in delirious pain, clawing at the skin of my face, thinking physical pain would be so much better than the screeches of the demon in my head. it's like watching her spirit leave her. watching my own downfall all over again.
i almost start crying again, because i had crushed another soul.
"thank you for being truthful," after she's recollected her thoughts, she can continue, "i appreciate it."
with that, she leaves for good. the door shuts behind her.
i blink and stare at the door. she'd come in drunk for a reason, and the reason was just.. so sad. i should have drove her back home, should have booked a cab for her.
i'm about to grab some tissue, when i see the bottle. she must have forgotten about it in her rush to leave. maybe she left it there because she thought i needed it more than she did.
i pick it up and finish the remainder. my eyes thread the hallway in front of me, the ghost of her replaying. the change: from being full of enthusiasm and aspiration, drained until all i saw in her eyes were dullness. nothing, but utter sadness. it's scary, and terrifyingly familiar.
getting up, i open the door to check if she's left, or if she needs help making her way home. the last thing i wanted was for her to get injured. she's nowhere in sight, with not even a sign of human presence lingering. a ghost, i'd turned her into.
there is one thing, though; one that shows she was there merely a few seconds ago. my heart drops to my stomach.
the cross necklace, broken and pulled apart, laying on the grass.