State of Silence

Why Did it Have to be Me?

The next morning, Jasmine stumbled from her bed with the usual headache pounding at her head. Just the hangover. Or the migraine that haunted her every morning. She couldn't tell the difference anymore. The sun was peaking over the horizon and finding it's way through the blinds of Jasmine's new apartment. Shuffling from her room and into the bathroom, she took one look into the mirror before the same disgusted look painted her face. Every time she saw her reflection, it never felt the same as it used to. It never helped the fact that it triggered more memories of the past. Everything reminded her of Hal. Before things went downhill and Hal was arrested, each night as Jasmine would slip off her dress to prepare for her pajamas, Hal would come up behind her and slowly wrap his arms around her waist. They'd caress the bare skin as gentle as silk and it made her feel loved. There were endless compliments and kisses placed over the sides of her neck and her shoulders. Things that made her feel like she was on top of the world. Now that was gone and standing in the mirror was a nightmare. Trembling hands wandered over her neck and her shoulders before she finally snapped out from her trance.

"Get yourself together, Jasmine," she told herself as she turned away from the mirror and sat down on the edge of bathtub. In her hand now was a prescription that was taken from the top shelf above the sink. It was Xanax to be exact. That whole week she had 'forgotten' to take them, but today something told her that she would need it. But really, was she going crazy enough to listen to the voices telling her not to take them. Taking that along with her regular medication, Jasmine brought herself to watch as each pill descended down her throat.

Every single time she stepped foot into that bathroom, she poured a whole bottle of pills into her hand. She would think about taking all of them so she could easily collapse to the floor and die a slow, long, and painful death (just as she thought she deserved), but then those pills would just be poured back into their original bottle. 'Coward,' she'd say to herself as each pill dropped into the bottle with a clink. After taking her last sip of water, Jasmine walked out of the bathroom and into the tiny kitchen that was in the corner of her apartment. Each shelf was either filled with some kind of alcohol, more medication that needed a refill, or expired food. Taking care of herself was becoming harder and harder every day. Meals became shorter and less filling. More time cooped up in her apartment with alcohol. Talking to herself became more frequent whether she realized it or not. That day, she planned to go to a coffee shop down the road to at least try to eat something and then she would make a visit to Danny. If she could work up the courage to even step foot into his store. Jasmine scanned her shelves for something to eat, knowing very well there was not a good selection. Sighing heavily, Jasmine walked back to her room to get dressed with the same heavy feeling weighing down on her shoulders.

Changing became a harder task. The depression was overwhelming and was infecting her brain like a deadly disease with no cure. It prevented her from doing every day tasks. It became harder and harder. Walking felt like she was trying to run through quick sand. The world weighed heavy on her shoulders. Living was becoming a chore.

"Nothing to wear..." The blonde huffed as she scanned through the few outfits that hung in her closet. No time for laundry anymore, so there was hardly anything she could wear. "I guess I'll just go with this." Reaching into her closet, Jasmine grabbed a blue blouse and black skirt. Something simple, but there was no time to actually try. Dressing down was something she took on after a while.

The coffee shop was just down the road from Jasmine's lonely little apartment. An easy five minute walk. "Alright, don't make a fool of yourself," she mumbled under her breath before opening the door. An immediate wave of cold air washed over her when she stepped inside and it dried the beads of sweat caused by the sweltering, summer heat. It felt good, but the smell of fresh bagels, donuts, and other sweets just made her nauseous. Jasmine hadn't seen a real meal in three days so all of this food made her feel nervous, but she promised herself she would eat something. But it always seemed that something came up and she never went through with the promise.

Scanning her bright blue eyes over the crowd, she slowly walked toward the front counter, but she immediately stopped in her tracks when the sight of familiar red tresses caught her eye. Bright, fiery, curled locks that rested at her shoulders. Those same eyes that gave piercing looks. It was her. The woman she met in the park the night before. If she saw here here, what was she supposed to say? 'Sorry, I had a nervous breakdown last night and you saw me taking to myself in the street.' No. It was awfully embarrassing and seeing her here was the last thing she wanted. Jasmine turned away from her and stood behind the line of people with her heart racing and nervous beads of sweat fell down her forehead.

Grabbing herself a plain bagel and iced tea, Jasmine inhaled sharply before starting her path toward this familiar woman's table.