Beastiful || Completed||

Forty Four

Jeremy opened his eyes suddenly.
His breathing was labored and pain shot all through his body as he recovered from his nightmare.

In the nightmare, he'd been hit by the car again. He'd felt the impact, felt the slam of his back against the wind screen, felt each rib crack as he rolled over the car and his awkward landing that broke his leg. It had felt so real.

Slowly, he reached out and switched on the television. A random sitcom was showing. As he watched, there was a soft knock on the door and the nurse entered.

She was a young and pretty lady named Amy.

"Jeremy, there's a Mrs Stewart here to see you."

"No visitors please."

"She says it's urgent..."

"I said No Visitors!"
Amy left the room and Jeremy sighed. What did Sasha's mom want?

Amy came back in and Mrs Stewart stormed in after her. Her face was grief stricken and there was a whole lot of anger in her eyes as they landed on Jeremy. He felt himself trying to press backwards into the bed and disappear for ever. Whatever she was mad about, it couldn't be good.

Jeremy realized she was holding a framed painting and she thrust it onto him forcefully. Tears began to fall from her eyes in a slow steady stream.

"Mrs Stewart, what's the matter?" Jeremy asked, fear making his breath hitch. He pushed the button on his remote that made the bed rise so he was almost sitting up.

The painting was face down and he picked it up.
"Mrs Stewart?" He asked again. The woman was sobbing silently and she sat on the chair next to the bed.

Jeremy looked at the painting in awe. It was one of him. He could tell already that it was Sasha that painted it. Fondness filled him as he thought of her painting this. It was beautiful. It was whimsical and perfect. He fingered the camouflaged signature at the bottom of the painting.

All of a sudden a lightning bolt hit him. Why would Mrs Stewart be weeping while giving him Sasha's painting? Dread filled him as he looked up slowly.

"Mrs Stewart... is Sasha okay?" His heart was racing as Mrs Stewart handed him a sheet of paper that was clearly a photocopy. He recognized Sasha's precise handwriting from the many hours they'd done homework together. Her writing was cursive and very loopy. At the same time, it was easy to read and decorative.

The blood drained out of his face as he read it. For a long moment, his heart stopped and he couldn't breathe at all. He felt like someone had hit him with a baseball bat.

With shaking hands, the paper fluttered out of his grip.

"Do you see what you did? Do you see what you made her do? How could you be sooooo insensitive to her?!" Mrs Stewart wailed. Her eyes were wild as she glared at Jeremy.

"I- I- I really didn't want her to find out..." His tongue felt heavy as he realized that he had no excuse. He had just caused a young girl to kill herself. He was a stupid killer. He picked the letter up and read it again stupidly, wishing the words would change.

How did she find out about the dare? How did she find out about him and Sylvie?

A bigger thought entered his head. Why did he ever agree to it? He knew no one would like it or take it lightly. Now he just had to pick the most emotionally unstable person to do it to.

He understood that she must already have been close to the edge once or twice. From what he could piece together from the time he'd known her, her life wasn't easy at all. She was constantly depressed and sad and she hid it or expressed it through her art. Now he'd come along and taken her from the edge she'd been happy. She'd been truly living for a while. And he'd rudely ripped that away from her and pushed her over that edge simultaneously.

As he stared at the paper, he realized he would never see her weird face again. He'd never kiss her lips and marvel at the beauty of her emerald eye again. He'd never admire the tiny art on her finger and toe nails or the way her golden hair swished to and fro as she walked again. He'd never hear her high pitched laugh or watch a slow smile creep onto her face again. He'd never hold her hand and experience the delicious feeling of being totally high and out of control when he was near her again. He'd never look at anymore of her beautiful paintings or laugh because of her crazy jokes again.

His hands began to shake harder as his thoughts kept spiraling. He didn't even realize it when tears blurred his vision and rolled down his face.

She would never finish his ceiling painting, never head off to college, never get that surgery that she really wanted, never experience life the way she should have... all because of his stupid actions.

His breath hitched as he tried to control himself.

"H-h-how did s-she... how did she do it?" He said, clearing his throat and wiping his face.

Mrs Stewart didn't reply for a long moment.
Jeremy spent that time looking at the letter again.

She'd loved him. She'd really loved him. Jeremy didn't know what to think or what to feel. Did the raw ache in his chest mean he felt the same? Did the way his heart and body refused to behave around her mean he loved her? Jeremy didn't know for sure... but he knew one thing.

He didn't want her dead.

He repeated the question and Mrs Stewart sighed.

"She took an overdose of sleeping pills."

Jeremy rested his head against the pillow. The bandage there felt too tight for his skull all of a sudden.

"I don't know what you did with Sylvie. And I don't want to even know about the date. All I know is that somehow, you and your creepy friends at school pushed my beautiful daughter to attempt suicide yesterday." She accused him.

His head flew up. Attempted?

"She's... she's not dead?"

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Hey guys sorry for the late update. I've been having serious writers block over here! I need some inspiration babes! Thank you for reading so far.
Dedicated to @SmileySOS for calling me out on my laziness 😜
Loads of 😍
Ally_town