Jasmine sat with a thud on the sofa, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She let her dirty arms drop and leaned back, head sinking into the cushions. She didn't even have a strength left to wash off the greasy film of eggs and powder of flour that clung to her arms. It smelt so sour that she felt nauseous for a moment. She almost regretted agreeing to the dinner.
She closed her eyes, not to sleep, but to pause. She scrunched her nose as she tried to eliminate the sour smell that lingered on the air around her. She noticed the tiny smell of dust that lingered around the sofa.
It suddenly dawned on her that she had never really spent a night in the house since she packed in.
At that moment, the house suddenly felt distant and creepy. She opened her eyes and looked around the house. Although it was fully lit, it was getting dark outside. It felt eerie.
As she became fully alert, she pushed herself off the sofa. Her legs almost gave way. She had been on her feet since the late hours of the morning. Personally supervising the production facility took the first half of her day and then the food test.
Every step to the bathroom felt unsafe, like she was walking to her execution ground. Even her footsteps sounded frightened her. Her whole mind had been into cooking that she hadn't noticed any of this. She wished Damian could come immediately. But he wasn't coming till 7:30pm. It was just 6:40. She had just enough time to get ready, but did she really want to have enough time?
Jasmine picked up the television remote and switched it on. She needed some noise. She increased the television volume. She felt less afraid. She swiftly climbed the stairs and made her way to her room to freshen up.
Few minutes later, Jasmine was dressed in a Grey gown. Ankle length and long sleeve. Her hair tied up in a bun.. She looked at the mirror. She thought it was the best she had to be for tonight. Casual and a little bit of professional.
For a moment, the television noise stopped. She swore she heard sounds of footsteps that weren't hers. The television noise continued again. She couldn't make out the sound of the footsteps.
Her chest tightened. Heart raced and sweat dropped. Goosebumps filled her skin. She breathed in and out trying to think hard on what to do. She searched the room for her phone but realized she had left it on the kitchen counter.
Weighing her options, she decided to try saving herself. She picked up a glass cup that sat on the bedside stool. She tiptoed out of the room. She saw someone climbing up the stairs. From the place she stood she could only see his back.
Her hands became shaky. He didn't look like a thief. Although he continously looked around the house. Did her father send someone to get her? She closed her eyes and said a little prayer. She could rather die than go back to that man.
With that, she gathered courage and walked slowly to the intruder. She soon increased her pace, rushing towards the intruder. Her hands raised, ready to strike with the glass cup. But as she got closer, she noticed his side profile was familiar.
Wait, Damian? But it was too late. Her hand was already few inches away for his head. Somehow, Damian was able to swiftly dodge that. The stairs betrayed him—his legs slipped. In a quest to save him, they both came tumbling down the stairs.
Jasmine thought she could die at the end of the fall. But somehow she only felt a slight ache in her head. She felt Damian's hand at the back of her head. He had protected her from the fall.
She was faced down, her head on his hard chest. She raised her head and asked "Are you okay? Oh my God, I didn't know it was you." She scanned his face wondering why his face suddenly changed in a good way. "Why did you have to get a haircut today huh?"
"Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked ignoring her previous question.
"No" Realizing she was still laying on top of him. She quickly stood up but felt a jolt of pain and electric rush through her right arm to her whole body. She looked and saw a jagged shard of glass drove into her right arm , drawing blood instantly. Her Grey gown highlighted the dark stain of blood.
The glass cup had broken and pierced into her skin. She gnashed her teeth in pain.
Damian stood up, he gently pulled her to the sofa. "Where is your first aid?.
"The kitchen. Second cupboard by your right" She whispered through pain.
Damian quickly walked to the kitchen and came back in seconds. "A doctor will be here in 10. But before he gets here we have to do something".
He brought out a scissor and cut open the sleeve of her cloth. He folded a towel and gave it to her. "You might need this."
Jasmine already knew what he wanted to do. She breathed out and took the folded towel. She forced in the towel in her mouth. This shouldn't be more painful that her childhood.
As Damian took out the glass, she felt a lit bit of relief, but it soon ended almost immediately. The pain somehow tripled. She bit hard on the towel but noticed that Damian had paused and was silent.
She looked at him inquisitively. His gaze was stuck on her arm. Stuck on the faint, silvery scars that crisscrossed there skin like faded trails on a forgotten map. Scars that she had long hidden.