Trust Me

Nicki Minaj

Snow coats the ground and crunches on my feet as I walk through rusty iron gates.

I love it when snow falls during the night, and the next morning it's crisp with a layer of frost covering it. When you step into the undisturbed snow, the frost breaks under your foot, and there's this really satisfying sound and...

And I'm just spewing nonsense to distract myself.

It's a snow day, thank god. I can wallow in peace and quiet. I won't have to face my class mates.

Boston is a big city, but everyone in this small district knows each other.

Everyone knows what day it is.

I've always hated the cemetery. But it's quiet atmosphere has always been attractive, if not creepy.

Of course it's creepy.

It's where dead people are laid to rest.

With all the snow, though, Mom's stone doesn't look nearly as dreary. More mysterious than treacherous.

Here lies Serena Rega, loving mother, wife, and daughter.

I hate the plain, simple engraving my father had had carved. It fits the stencil of every other grave.

It doesn't flatter my mother at all. She was so much more than that. She was a gardener, a cook, a nurse, a nanny. She was beautiful.

"Jasmine.."

Josh. Wonderful.

He was standing there with a horrid look of pity, holding his arms out to me.

I'm to strong to be held up. I can stand on my own, thank you very much.

He sighed at my silence.

"It's cold out, Jasmine. Let's go to the cafe," he pleaded.

"I didn't ask for you to be here. Go by yourself."

Do I sound spiteful? Maybe I am. Obviously not at him. He didn't do anything.

I'm mad at the world, I guess. Mad at the driver, mad at my mother, my father, myself.

Because if I had been just a little more patient, Mom wouldn't have taken me out to play that day. But noooo, I just had to play in the snow at the park, as if it didn't snow every other day! We're in Massachusetts for god's sake!

"You can't blame yourself," Josh said, reading my mind.

"Don't worry, I know it wasn't completely me fault."

I'm not lying. The driver is as much to blame. My father too. Perhaps my mother, for not getting out of the way with me.

She just had to be all selfless, thinking she was doing me a favor by saving me.

By letting me watch her die with my own two eyes.

"Do you remember seventh grade, the year we had that big carnival for Mother's day? Everyone was making those childish cards and mosaics and making imprints of their hands. And then there was me, just standing in the corner. It was pretty depressing."

Josh took my hands. "And then I came over, and I dragged you over to my mom, and she made a mosaic with you, and we all went for hot chocolate. Remember?"

Of course I remembered. That was the day I started crushing on Daniel Locke.

---------------Nutella Hot Chocolate------------

Josh and I sat down in the small, wooden booth. Adrienne's was our favorite cafe in town. The cozy, undiscovered shop that served the best hot chocolate.