a girl drenched in emotional scars and a rapper tangled by toxic demons are forced to face their legal issues together. Little did they know of the sparks they'd electrify within each other.
warning: profanity/drugs/death referrences
highest rank: #...
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|LIL UZI VERT|
I looked up at the sky. Not a star twinkled. Not a moon glowed. It was a pitch black. An endless portal to nowhere. I placed my hand on my cheek. A tear. An actual tear made its way down my face.
The more I replayed that night, the more I believed her. And every time I did, I asked, 'Why does she hate me?'
Why didn't she knew the truth? How come she could not open her eyes and see it was all on Demi?
But why did I kiss her back?
You're never going to have her again. --Demon.
I kept walking. And walking. When was I ever going to head to my car? Never, probably. I was going to keep walking away my hurt and guilt and remorse and self hate. I was going to keep walking until the demons in my head became tired and fell on their knees before falling out of my mind.
When was that time going to happen? Never, probably.
I thought of Grey. I had totally forgot about him. We were supposed to pop a few xans that night. I didn't deserve to numb my pain, anyways. I deserved to feel the pain I had caused, raw. Then, I would know next time not to fall in love.
I stopped wandering around and glanced up. In the breezy night, the hospital lights gave off a puff of warmth. It stood grandly over me. Why did I want to walk inside a hospital in the middle of night?
I walked down the hallway, lost in my daze. The whiteness had started to become blurry clouds of mist. The chattering nurses and beeping machines had turned into echoes fading away into the distance. My footsteps, became louder and louder, as if that was the only thing to hear in the world.
Suddenly, I heard my name being called. It sounded like something in my head at first but, started to sound more real. I snapped out of my daze at the sight of her bouncy golden curls. Was it real? Was Jasmine really there?
"Jassie?" I called, expecting the image of her to fade away like a ghost.
Jasmine spun around. Her eyes wide, watery. Her face blotchy and red. She ran towards me at the speed of a race car. She looped her legs and arms around me into a hug. I was relieved. She was real. I could smell her. Touch her. See her.
"UZI, UZI! I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD!!" She wailed.
Then she did what I thought she would never do. She kissed me. She let my lips own hers. I held her tight just in case it was all a dream. I kissed her like it was the last time we'd ever kiss and I would have kept going if she hadn't pulled away to cup my face.
From the way she held it and stared back in my eyes, with a longing desire and passion I knew she had never hated me. I had realized that she had loved me. That was all I needed to know.
"What's going on?" I asked
Dead? Why would I be dead? Who would tell her that? Dead. I'm not physically dead.
A weary looking doctor approached us, "No, miss, you misheard us over your wails. Greyson Greg has overdosed." The both of us stared at the doctor in disbelief.
"I'm sorry, he overdosed on Xanax." Said the doctor.
Had everything right there and then broke apart, I would have been happy with that. Had Grey walked up to me and asked to switch places, I would have gladly accepted. But, why him? Out of the billions of people that could have died why the man who offered me rare but kind smiles and cigars with beer. Why him?
In one loud thump Jassie collapsed to the floor. She sobbed so hard, her voice cracked, her chest heaved up. Down. Up. Down.
Grey had overdosed on the drugs we both agreed to take that day. What would have happened if I was with Grey that night? Would we have both died? Or would we both be alive? Grey could still have been living, maybe, at the cost of my life. Or maybe, still, he would have died and I would be living.
I didn't know what to feel. Electric shocks had tried to jolt me back to reality. I pinched my arm until it stung with irratation. Nothing was working.
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.
When I realized, I couldn't wake up, I helped Jasmine up. She didn't deserve so much.
Has she not been through enough?
Have I not been through enough?
And Grey, it wasn't his time.
Why is everything so unfair?
I slumped into a waiting chair. Jasmine laid on my lap. I think she ran out of tears. There is a point, where crying gets old. All you could do is just ache. I was aching. So was she.
The doctor told us the drugs were laced with something a lot stronger than Xanax.
"I---thought it was you--"
She sat up holding my face again, gazing into my eyes. With her long fingernails she traced my face tattoos, admiring every curve detail. Jasmine loved me so much I felt sick to my stomach. How could she love a sickly creature like me? Hadn't she learned her lesson by then?
"It was almost." I muttered, feeling as if I owed the world everything I had.
Her eyes blazed fiercely, "Don't you ever say that again!"
I simply looked back at her, not sure what to do with myself. How did you react to a death? Did you just break down or something? Were you supposed to hold it all in?
