DOE

A N O T H E R ' S R O O M

When I open my eyes again, I look around for Maria, Jessica, Laurie and Old Jim. A lock of purple hair falls into my eyes, and I brush it off. My nails are painted black. I'm wearing a dragon-scale green tank top, simple black yoga pants and rainbow Grecian sandals. There's a purple bag slung over my shoulder. I finger my purple hair. It's tied in a ponytail. I set down the cup of chamomile tea Jasmine had been holding, before I possessed her. I close my eyes, and rub them hard. When I open them again, I can  see Maria. She walks up to me, grabs my hand and pulls me out, around the back of the shop.

"Wow. It worked!"

"Why couldn't I see you when I first opened my eyes? And where are Jessica, Laurie and Jim?"

"Sparrow, you can't see ghosts. But we can make ourselves visible to you, and only you. The book says that we can make ourselves visible, should we choose to, to spirits possessing bodies."

I nod.

"Maria. When does school start?"

"Not until tomorrow morning, I'm afraid."

"I need to see Mae. Right. Now."

She puts a finger on her chin.

"You could go to her Dance Night session."

I jump. "I forgot she goes for those!"

Maria looks me up and down. "You actually look already pretty dressed up for it. Maybe you should go to Addison and sign yourself up for it."

I'm already walking away from Maria. I wave at her, and then run, as fast as I can, to the Addison Recreation Centre. Thankfully, it's only a brisk run from Jim's Tea Shoppe. I burst through the door. A lanky teenager with mocha skin and greasy black hair is sitting behind the receptionist desk. I walk right up to the desk.

"I want to sign up for the Dance class at 8 o'clock, please."

"D'you mean the Dance Night Session?"

I cocked my head. "Yeah. Uh...that. How do I sign up?"

She pulls out a heavy-bound register.
"Just write your name, mobile number and address, here."

I frown. I don't know Jasmine's number or her address.

"I'm sorry, but that information is classified. I'm only here for one night."

The receptionist frowns. She looks at the computer screen, and nods.

"Okay. Write your name, please."

I scribble onto the register. I pause for a minute, trying to remember the last name Maria had given me. I turn around quickly, and search Jasmine's quilted purple tote. Finally, I procure a small marshmallow-white notebook with Jasmine Leopard scrawled across it in Punk Pink Sharpie. I push the book back in, and smile at the receptionist. There's a bored expression on her face. It's obvious she thinks I'm a psycho. I write Jasmine's full name, and then set the pen down. I look at the heavy antique watch, the only normal thing on Jasmine's body. It's nearly 4:30. I should be back here in approximately  4 hours.

Without anything else to do, I sit on a green bench outside and finger the little book. On the inside is her address. I put the book back in the bag, deciding then and there to go to Jasmine's house. It's actually right next to the Tea Shoppe.

Its a big mansion, with a little twist from the Victorian era, like all the other mansions on that street. All around it is a big green garden with perfectly pruned rose bushes. I swing open the white gate, surveying my surroundings as I stride up to the doorstep. There's a big brass knocker in the shape of a lion's head on the wooden door.

Inside the tote is a set of bright green keys, with surprisingly realistic little doodles of dragons (in the same pink Sharpie she used to write her name on the diary-book thingy) drawn on the tag. I turn a key into the lock. The door opens and when I step in, plush sofas the color of red wine and big French windows greet me. There are paintings of old men with monocles and women in prairie dresses on the walls. Cabinets of ceramic plates and glass chalices line the walls, and the floor is redwood, smooth and polished. For the quirky, arty girl I possessed, this house was weirdly...normal.

I lock the door behind me. I make my way up the stairs to the first floor. It's blindingly obvious which room is Jasmine's; the first door is painted Nile Blue, with gold trellises painted on the outside. There are paintings of giant golden-pink lizards crawling up the door. And in quirky font, Jazzy's Room is painted at the very top, a painted heavily-lashed eye glaring at the very top. I push the door open, and walk into the weirdest room ever.

The big canopy-bed sits in the very middle. It's a light lilac color, and fake flowers are weaved through the headboard. The white sheet lying on top of it has an almost naked woman drawn on top with Black marker. Papier-mache butterflies hang from the black ceiling. The walls are painted Hot Pink. There are two green beanbags on the floor. The floor is redwood, but there are metallic golden fleurs-de-lis painted all over it. Then there are murals of black spiders, comic-book characters, big flowers on the walls. Right above the bed is a mural. It's a self-portrait of Jasmine. Her purple hair flying everywhere, her pink-leopard eyes boring into me.

The most majestic thing of all, though, is the massive sculpture of a white unicorn, rearing its legs high up in the air, in the corner of the room. It is majestic and beautiful, its mane flying everywhere, similar to Painted Jasmine's.

Then, the dressing table catches my eyes. It is Chrome Black, but there are sculpted unicorn horns sticking out of it. On the mirror are scrawls of red lipstick.

'I can't take it anymore'

'Why can't I just kill myself already'

'She'll have to PAY for this'

I avert my eyes, confused. Were these arty decorations as well, or were there deeper problems going on under Jasmine's quirky façade?

Only one way to find out, I thought.

I hesitantly plop onto Jasmine's bed, feeling like I've done something wrong, by being in this complete stranger's house. Suddenly, a memory pops into my head and I wince.

Maybe Jasmine wasn't that much of a stranger.