Revved Up Soul

Chapter 4

Jasmine

Jasmine could barely breathe. This was not how things were supposed to be – these kinds of things are what sent her to the bottle in the past. She couldn't sit still on the black bench, it was hard and biting against her person – she wondered (if only to distract her mind) why they even made these things.

Time passed by all too slowly, she could feel that invisible noose tightening 'round and 'round her neck. She had checked with one of the nurses and they'd informed her that Luke was on his way when his brother was taken in via ambulance.

Jasmine's head sunk downwards, her raven hair of ringlets spilled along the side of her head. You're a terrible person; she bit down on her lip and pressed her arms tighter against her middle.

Then there was the sound of frantic footfalls.

Jasmine looked up.

She'd never seen a man look so dire before. Luke's face was somewhere between the hard lines of anger and crushing sorrow. Their eyes locked.

Jasmine's heart lurched into her throat, rooting itself there – tightness consumed her body.

Luke broke contact, craning his head to the room where his brother died. He looked back to Jasmine "Is he in there?" His words came out in a terrible, terrible strain – the faintest glimmers of hope in his voice.

Jasmine swallowed. God, if you're up there – if, if you've ever been. Please.

Luke's eyes flashed with anger. "Hey!" He snapped white-hot, leaning in Jasmine's direction. "Is my brother in—" he jabbed a finger, and then brought his hand to his mouth, sucking in a quick breath before taking a couple of steps forward, "is he in that room?" He asked plaintively, switching moods fast.

Jasmine finally summoned the strength to meekly get up from her bench. There was no easy way to say this, nothing could prepare you for it. He looks truly lost.

Taking another set of tentative steps, Luke kept looking between Jasmine and the room. Clear lines slowly ran down his flushed face and his hand was shaking over his mouth.

"We did everything we could," Jasmine's throat tightened and her chest felt empty, yet painfully skewered all the same.

"No," the tears glinted in his eyes. "No, no-no-no," he sank to his knees beneath an impossible weight. Luke took in a sharp breath and leaned back against the wall, burying himself within his chest and arms. The sounds that left him made her bones ice over, and for one brief – horrible moment – she was right there with him, the nightly air caressing her coolly and the brightest star fading into black. She swore that she could hear the sounds of the waves crashing.

Jasmine stepped forward, approaching the man carefully.

Luke slammed his balled fist against the wall behind him, shouting in the throes of anger. "No!" He wiped his eyes. "No you stay— you stay away from me," he sounded sickened. Disgusted. Like Jasmine were a pox that might spread if it got too close.

Sadness cloaked around her person, drenching deep her bones. Heat trilled up her spine, blooming in the back of her head.

I'm sorry. I tried to save him . . . she retreated two solemn steps, swallowing and averting her gaze from the man.

Luke glared, "Don't fucking come near me," he growled, moving up close to her and jabbing a finger at her face. "This is on you," he spat with a venom and turned, walking with quick, powerful strokes like a lion on the savannah.

Jasmine's head hung low as she watched him, out of the corner of her eye, go towards what remained of his brother.

I'll never see him again, she thought. And I don't deserve to.