Windstorm (Girl x Girl) {Completed}

Ugly Love

        It was another peaceful night of stargazing on the balcony when Brooke decided to ask Jasmine a question.

"You know, Jasmine. I know a lot about your recent self and that you are 19 years old, a Scorpio, and your favorite holiday is Thanksgiving, but how come I don't know about your past?" Brooke asks while running her hand through Jasmine's hair.

"To what extent do you want to know?" Jasmine asks with a yawn. She was getting really sleepy by being all cozy up on Brooke's warm, solid body.

"To where I can know about your family. I mean you already know about my shitty one," said Brooke in a nonchalant tone.

Jasmine immediately started clenching up. This was far from a nonchalant topic. Jasmine was on high alert now at the mentioning of her family life. It brought up unhealed wounds to the surface.

Jasmine tighten her grip on Brooke before asking,

"Do you really want to know?"

" Yes, I really want to know. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't want to know?"

"The kind of girlfriend who knows that mentioning my family life is like ripping my heart and intestines out and expecting me to function."

"Why, would you say that?"

"Because like yours, my family life was shitty too."

"Do tell. I'm all ears."

"It's really not that simple to tell."

"Why not? It wasn't simple for me to tell you about why I used to cut myself, but I still found it in me to tell you anyway.

"Okay, fine. Before I was sent to a foster home, I had a nice family consisting of my mom my twin sister Jade and that's it. But like I said, it was a nice family even though it was a small one. However, one day, I don't know was wrong with me; but I convince my sister to sneak out of the house with me to attend one of those stupid teenage's party. It was fun and wild, but it eventually got shut down because of underage drinking and neighbors reporting the music being too loud and disruptive. Of course, my sister and I ditch the party before the cops could arrest us. I mean we were two black girls, and at that time; the world was mistreating blacks from left to right, and we didn't want to take the chance with the authorities. Plus, if our mother found out we got arrested, we would get our ass kicked and wouldn't live another day to breathe. So we ditch the party, and I convince my sister to go this back way with me. The back way ended up being in this alley that passed through one of those late night bars. As we were passing, we saw this man by the wall who was smashing beer bottles on the brick wall aggressively. My sister and I️ tried to pass by quietly, but as usual my dumbass made the smallest of noise, and the man's attention was on us. That's when I told my sister to run and we did, but... we didn't expect the man to throw a glass bottle at the back of my sister's head, knocking her unconscious. I screamed in fear. I thought: This was it. This was the day that I would finally meet my end. I was a very pessimistic child. I would always talk about how I would die at a young age, and how I wouldn't care because I wanted to die, but when I was faced with the reality of dying, I️ didn't want to die by the hands of some man. It turns out I didn't have to because my sister died instead. I watched the man pick up a shattered piece of glass and scream in my sister's face as I️ stood there petrified. I didn't know how to help. I just stood there and watched while he called her out of her name, and then stab the piece of glass into her stomach. My sister started making a gurgling sound after that. She was clearly still trying to hold on, but I did nothing. And I hate myself for that because the man eventually got annoyed of her noise and slit her throat. That was it for her. That was it for my other better half of me. She was my twin for god sake's, and I did nothing. I mean I eventually screamed for help and call 911 after I watched her die, but I should've done something before that. I could've saved her, instead, I was a pussy and watched my own blood die in front of my face."

         By then Jasmine broke into a mournful sob. Tears streamed down her face like the flow of a river. It was surprising that she was not causing a flood. Brooke wrapped her arms around Jasmine's torso as Jasmine buried her face on Brooke's chest. Brooke could tell that Jasmine was shattering into a million pieces when telling this story, and she felt helpless as she didn't know what to do to comfort her.

"It's okay," Brooke tried to say soothingly, but on the inside, she wanted to cry with her. "It wasn't your fault."

"But it was! I could have helped her," Jasmine cried. "But I didn't. Because I'm a failure. A waste of space! I shouldn't have been the one to survive that night. I should have died instead!"

"Don't say that! That means we wouldn't have met each other. That you wouldn't have accomplished all that you have today. Obviously, it was meant for you to live."

"She could have accomplished all of these things too," Jasmine said forcefully.

"Probably, but don't take the life you have now as if you're unworthy of it. Act as if you deserve it because you do. Live it for you; live it for Jade."

"I'm trying my best, but I miss her so much. Especially, on my birthday."

"Oh honey, of course, you do. Loss demands to be felt, and you will continue to feel it until you've lost yourself."

"I know," Jasmine said while whipping her tears. " But after that night. My mother could never look at me the same. She blamed me for Jade's death, and I blame myself for it too. I fell into a deep depression after that. I️ even lost my mind trying to cope and had a psychotic episode; talking about how I was having sex with the ghost, how I could predict the future, and how I had all these weird superpowers. I️ even ran outside to bus stop in my pajamas when I should've been getting ready for school. That's when my mom decided she had enough of me and grab my fragile body and threw me in the car. She said that she was locking me up in a mental institution."

"How long did you stay?" asked Brooke in horror.

"I stayed for a good two weeks. They didn't know whether to diagnosed me with bipolar disorder or psychosis, so they kept me longer. Eventually, they diagnosed me with psychosis, and that changes the relationship between me and my mother forever. She was devastated and didn't believe in mental disorders, you know? She believes they were excuses for people to use to get out of their problems. So after my diagnosis, she put me in a foster home and that was the last I seen of her."

"Wow...and I️ thought my mother was bad. Yours is the worst mother to exist."

"I'm aware. She even chose the worst foster home to put me in. Not only did they physically abuse me, they also mentally abused me. They neglected to give me food and left me starving for days. Also, they always claimed that I️ was "worthless," "pointless," and wonder why my mother didn't kill me off, so she could have been done with me. Nothing sucked more than hearing those words as a teenager on a daily basis. After a year of living in that hellhole, my grandma finally decided to save me. Apparently, she reached out to all my other living family members to see who was willing to adopt me, and gratefully one of my aunties did. She was okay. I️ lived with her until I got accepted into Berkeley. So now, here I️ am," Jasmine said with a shrug.

"See, look at you. Even through all the shit, you've gone through; you still made it here. Honestly, you are one of the strongest person I️ know."

"Thanks," Jasmine said with a small smile.

"One last question..." Brooke suggested in hesitation.

"Shoot,"

"Who killed your sister?"

"Jim Crosby," Jasmine said with a shiver, "Even the sound of his name haunts me."

Brooke's face paled once Jasmine voice the murders name out loud.

"What's wrong?" Jasmine asked out of concern. "You look like you've seemed a ghost."

"Oh. It's nothing. Just processing everything you've said is just difficult. I'm surprised you aren't traumatized like I️ said, you are strong," Brooke said as she tried to move the conversation off of her. Even though what she said was a lie, it held some half-truth to it. She just didn't want Jasmine to know the truth about her sudden change of emotions. It was that name sounded very familiar to her. The name was her father.