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Chapter 22: U for Umbrella

To Gable,

Ok love, this is letter number two I've written you; I'm planning on writing five, at least. Hell, who am I kidding? By the time I'm gone, I'd have probably written twenty letters just for kicks.

Anyways, I shall name this letter: Confusion. Question of the hour is: How confused are you?

What is there to be confused about though? I'll be long gone, dead, and I'm sure you know the answer to why I will kill myself (or have killed myself, by the time you're reading this) don't you? Or do you? Well, if you are confused, then I'll answer your questions.

The reason why I'm gone now is because there's nothing left for me to live for. And I know I have you, and I'm sorry if I'm hurting you, but even you and your friendship can't bring me back up from this depression. I'm too far inside this- blackness, Gable. And I just can't stand to see the disappointed glances from my parents or your concerned looks any longer; I don't want to see any pity. I can't stand pity. Know why? Because I'm not disabled, even though I'm an amputee, I don't need no goddamn pity.

After we had our fight, (which was totally stupid, and, I'm so sorry by the way) I stayed home, sulking, and drinking my problems away, trying to mute out the sounds of Mom and Dad's consistent, never-ending fighting through the buzz of alcohol. About a week after, I found my mom cheating on my dad with a guy she didn't even know. And that isn't even the worst part, Gable. Ever night after it seemed, she brought home a different guy without Dad's knoweledge. Until the point to where I eventually told him. They fought, and, of course, they filed for divorce. Dad moved away to Virginia, so I stayed with Mom, only to find she was pregnant a month later.

And you know what? Even being pregnant, Mom still smoked and drank like her life depended on it. Maybe that's why it made me so upset, knowing that she's pregnant again without ever loving the first child.

Well, that was one long sob story, don't you agree? How about we get to the oh-so fascinating topic of you.

So, how's school doing? (Yes, I heard about that, my Dad is a teacher there, remember?) Anyways, it must be fun to be able to experience high school. Haha, note the sarcasm. Whatever you do, don't kill yourself over school, got it? It's not that bad, but try not to get on everyone's bad sides, although I know you will.

Just keep your head held high, kiddo..

Now, how's Mr. Handsome? Still as hot as last time? Girl, treat him well, I have a feeling you guys are going to go far, you are practically made for each other. But use protection! And if he ever, ever, hurts you, just knock on my gravestone and I'll come a haunting him, kapeesh?

I'll miss you so much when I'm gone, Gable. I miss you already just thinking about it. But please, I beg you, don't squash yourself over my death, you couldn't have stopped it, nobody could have. You are truly the first and best friend I ever had, and I thank you for that, because you were one hell of a friend.

Kiss Joby well,

Jasmine

I fold the letter and place it back into its shoe box that contains the rest of the unread letters. I smile sadly as I place the lid over the box and push it underneath my bed, memories of Jasmine playing through my head.

Surprisingly, I don't cry.

Instead, I found closure.

***

The rest of the school year flew by quickly, Mom becoming more rounder every day it seemed. By February, which was month three for Mom, her waddle was so extreme, Dad and I would have to keep by her side to insure she didn't roll over and fall. Still, it made me happy to see Mom so happy- and swollen.