in the night | the weeknd

fourteen

Jasmine

I walk along the quiet neighbourhood, shivering in my jacket.

Why am I back here again? Oh, yeah, to get the rest of my things.

Abel waits for me in the car. He told me to call him if anything goes wrong, but I doubt anything will.

As soon as I reach the door, I freeze, noticing someone knocking at the door. I edge closer to find Travis, Dre's older brother. "Travis?" I say.

He turns around and a smile creeps up his lips. "Hey, Laura," he says. "Do you have any idea where my brother is?"

I suck in my breath.

It's time to put on a good show, I think to myself.

I shake my head, sniffing. "He's gone," I answer. "He just left. I don't know why. He just took all his stuff and left a note, saying he left. I can't believe he'd just leave me like that after everything we've been through together." The tears stream down my cheeks and I wipe them away, sniffing.

A rush of sympathy fills Travis' eyes. He walks closer to me. "I'm sorry, Laura," he says, squeezing my arm. "Shit, sometimes my brother can be such an asshole."

I laugh lightly, feeling my throat dry up. The bitter taste of guilt fills my mouth and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I can't believe it's so easy for me lie through my teeth. I killed his brother. I should be punished for what I've done.

"I wish I claimed you first," Travis says softly, stroking my cheek and I smile.

And I wish I picked you, I think to myself. Travis liked me too, but I had to go and pick the fucked up brother, didn't I?

I would have been so much happier with Travis - he would have treated me right, not like how Dre did.

"My brother didn't deserve you," Travis tells me. "What did the note say?"

"That he was leaving because there was nothing left in Toronto for him," I say, shrugging. "He didn't even say where he was going."

Travis curses under his breath and runs his hand over his beard. "What a motherfucking little piece of shit," he curses and I just nod, trying not to break down right now. "Okay, well I guess I'll see you around?"

I nod, forcing myself to smile. "Yeah," I say. I watch as he walks away before entering the house.

The house is freezing cold and I shiver into my jacket, pulling it closer around my body. It still smells like weed in here.

I go upstairs and start packing my bag with the rest of my belongings.

I open one of the draws and find a blunt and lighter. I light the blunt up and begin smoking it, taking long drags. The blunt calms me down and my heart finally stops racing.

The moment that I stabbed Dre replays over and over in my head as I continue to smoke the blunt.

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the image of Dre lying lifeless and bloody on the kitchen floor.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, the mental image not disappearing.

I start crying into my hands, my body whole body trembling in fear, sadness, anger and guilt.