You Think it's Over but it's Just Begun - (Jason/Zacky) - Version Two.

Chapter Six.

Hey, guys! Here's Chapter Six! I'm about to get started on Chapter Seven right now - it's a big one, a lot of unanswered things will finally be answered!

Hope you like it!

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Enjoy!<3

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There seemed to be a theme running through the house that became more and more noticeable as I ascended the stairs. The subtle changes that had been made over the past three years all seemed to have been centred around me.

I found myself stopping halfway up - something I used to do many times in emotional turmoil - and focused my gaze out of the circular window overlooking the affluent area I was so lucky to live in. A dramatic change in weather met me; a torrential downpour I found strangely comforting and normal. When exactly it had started to rain, I was unaware, but I sincerely hoped that the sun's absence wasn't an omen.

With my hand brushing the bannister, I made my way up the last six steps and faced the long, winding hallway that led to my bedroom at the very end. The carpet beneath my feet hadn't changed, or the cream colour of the walls, or the wooden doors that dotted their way down and led off into different areas. It was all just the same, and it was a type of nostalgia I was starting to think I couldn't stomach.

I had made it this far, though, and I wasted no time in reminding myself of that. I wasn't sure I could say I'd faced the most daunting part of all the reunions I was soon to face, but I would within the hour. I could say it was over, then, and I could settle and blend into the background and no longer be a spectacle - no longer be only a memory.

My feet slowed to a gradual stop at the very end of the hall, and my breath hitched in my throat and burdened it with an uncomfortable lump that I attempted to clear away. I was a coward and there was no denying that. A large part still existed inside of me that had the instinct to run and keep running. My nerves could have kept me running all the way back to New Zealand, I was sure, fighting blood, sweat and tears in order to avoid somebody who had sat heavy on my heart since the moment they'd shattered it. But I wasn't a runner anymore. I was the new Midge - Jasmine, who was twenty-two, mature, responsible. No longer reckless.

I couldn't find the courage inside of me to open the door with open eyes, as though that would make a difference. I kept my vision darkened as the creak I so vividly remembered echoed down the hallway. My trembling legs guided me inside, and the creak sounded again as my back hit the door and pushed it shut. I couldn't allow myself to be exposed right now. This moment was one that required privacy in all its entirety.

It smelled like fabric softener, and that was it. Once upon a time, different scents would have been flying around the large room - my perfume, the strong smell that emanated from the packet of tobacco that I always made sure to have sitting on my desk, perhaps the morning-after-the-night-before smells after an evening of heavy drinking and partying. My place was now no more than fabric softener, and I felt glad about that.

My next arduous task was to force myself to take everything in visually. I wished I had someone there to force my eyes open for me. It was difficult on my own - me, the avoider. But I did it with vigorous strength, and my reality hit me like a freight train. This was my room. My personal space to call my own. I hadn't spent as much time in it as I'd have liked during my first time living here, but it had sat and waited for me, and it was still my room.

It seemed my dad had dipped in here and there to keep the area tidy without making any noticeable changes. The bedsheets were brand new, I could tell that much - probably a purchase he'd made ready for my homecoming - and I found myself happily accepting the comfort and lowering my body onto the bedspread. It enveloped me with its clean cotton scent and its homelike feel; a sensation I made no attempt to fight off.