Page 29 of Crash

I fall to my knees, crawling over to her. She’s laying on the ground, her red hair matted with blood. So much blood. It covers every inch of her tattered, bruised body. The word traitor scribbled across her almost unrecognizable face “Mom?” I shake her. “Mom, wake up!” I shake her harder.

I check for a pulse, it's barely there, a tiny slow thump beneath my fingers. There is an ear-piercing scream. It’s mine, I think. My eyes are locked on my mom’s swollen face that’s crusted in blood, deep purples and grays spread from her neck to her forehead.

“Jasmine.” I look at Uncle Vince, his face cast in dark emotions.

“Uncle Vince,” I croak “You have to… you have to help her.” I squeeze my mom to my chest, rocking her back and forth. Humming my favorite song as tears slice down my face. “Please,” I whisper, continuing to rock her. Her body is so limp against mine.

I had just finally gotten a real mom. She can’t just leave me… “Please, someone, please,” I whisper again, burying my face into her hair. She smells like flowers and our laundry detergent.

My body is being lifted and the smell of marijuana and sandalwood takes its place. “Please, help her,” I whisper repeatedly, voice growing softer with each plea.

When I open my eyes, Easton is looking down at me as he carries me. I pound my fists into his chest. “Not you! I don’t want you. Put me down!”

He clutches me tighter into his chest. “No,” he whispers as he kicks open my door.

I squeeze his shirt between my fists, burying my face into his chest. He lays us down on my bed.

My mom. She was beaten within an inch of her life. And here I was having a bad day because a stupid boy broke my heart. “Shh, I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers, planting a kiss to my forehead.

But he already has.

* * *

My mom isn’t going to wake up. That’s what the doctors are saying, but they also say the brain swelling must go down for them to know for sure.

I pick up my knife, my hand trembles as I look down at my thighs. I haven’t done this in months. I need this numb feeling to go. To feel something. Tears stream like a river in the spring, fast and full of life. So unlike how I’m feeling.

I position the knife to my thigh, digging the point in deep as a bead of blood forms around the blade. I slash down, adding pressure as the skin flays open. Meaty tissue exposed between the two flaps of skin that lays open.

Yes. It’s an instant relief as I watch blood rise to the surface, spilling down my legs and dripping onto the floor. I position the knife again, when a hand wraps around mine, squeezing until I release it. The knife clatters to the floor. “Don't you dare,” Easton whispers darkly in my ear.

Releasing my hand, he grabs the knife his mom got me—it is silver with light blue stones on it—putting it in his pocket.

I shove out of his grip. “Why did you do that?” I whisper.

“Baby…” He reaches for me, but I sidestep him.

“No, I was a bet. A bet you won, now move on, Easton. I know I have.”

We begin screaming at one another, him pinning me down as I try to fight him off, screaming in his face.

“Get off of me.”

His hand swipes over my thigh, over the sting of my wound, making me grimace. He brings his blood-covered hand to his face, inspecting it. His eyes turn cold as he looks to me. “You’re never going to do this again. Do you hear me?”

“I’ll do what I want,” I spit in his face.

He growls, “No, the fuck you won’t. Stop hurting your beautiful body. You’re not tainted, baby. You’re still perfect in every single aspect and I think it’s time we get you some real help. Please, Jasmine. Get the help you need because I won’t lose you,” he begs.

I’m so numb, the words go through one ear and out the other. I just don’t care anymore. “Fuck you, Easton. You don’t care about me. You only care about yourself. If I stuck that knife straight through my temple,” I smile, “and ended my life, you’d dance on my grave. At least then you’d have one less problem to deal with.”

He shakes my body. “Shut up.”

“Admit it, you don’t want me. You don’t want the problems I come with—” He cuts me off with his lips against mine, infusing so much passion, I almost choke on it.

“Get off of me!” I scream.

My door bursts open, and Dad comes in, removing Easton from my room.

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