Dylan and I hadn't spoken in a day. He went out to work. I stayed home (I don't have a job). He came back home. I stayed in the living room. He stayed in the bedroom. We hadn't spoken since. Junior was already fast asleep before Dylan walked into the living room, drunk and...grinning.
"You can't leave," he said. "You can't, Jasmine. You don't have a job. You have a kid. You'd barely live. You can't leave. I can make you do whatever I want..."—his eyes widened—"Whatever I want you to do..."
I turned toward him. "No," I refused. "You can't make me—"
"Where would you go? Your parents are dead, bitch. You have nowhere to go..." he fell down on the floor. Then it was clear.
I had to get out.
"Dylan," I said, running up the stairs, calling to Junior, "We have to get going."
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We're Gonna Do This: Jasmine's Story (Independence Day)
FanfictionWhat was Jasmine's story before Independence Day? Why is she an "exotic dancer"? Who is Dylan's father? All will be answered in this (short) Independence Day fanfic.
