Dancing with Shadows

One

      There was blood everywhere. Jasmine screamed at the sight of Derick laying in a growing puddle of blood. She stood up trying to get to him. Trying to help him out of under the sharp pieces of crystal. The puddle grew until it was ankle deep. She took one step and another. She needed to get to him. The blood was now circling around her calves and only getting higher. Each step she took made the blood swirl around her legs creating small waves as the blood came up to her hips. It was near impossible to walk anymore, and Jasmine felt herself falling into the pool of blood. Despite the height, she could still see Derick under the broken chandelier. She still needed to get to him. She needed to feel him near her. She couldn't feel him anymore.

      The blood was so high that she couldn't keep her head above it. She could feel it swirling into her nose and mouth. It was so thick that she could feel it choking her. Jasmine tried desperately to take in a full breath. She tried desperately to find Derick's body. All she could see was blood. All she could feel was the thick, sticky liquid. There was no floor any more. There was no way up. There was nothing but blood.

*  *  *  *  *

      The air rushed into her lungs in a loud gasp. Jasmine sat up straight in bed, her lungs heaving with how vivid her dream was. She should have been used to them. Ever since that night four months ago, she had variations of the same dream.

      Still, Jasmine could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes.

      Still, Jasmine couldn't take a full breath, her lungs refusing to expand enough to accommodate air.

      Still, Jasmine felt as if her heart was breaking all over again.

      She looked over at the nightstand that held the compact digital clock. The green readout blinked 2:34 AM.

      It had been months since she was able to sleep through the night. Jasmine tossed the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet slipped into Derick's slippers. She pulled the open panels of his button down shirt together. It overlapped more than normal in front, now that she'd lost so much weight.

     She didn't think too much on her weight, or lack of it, as she shuffled in the too large slippers across the hardwood floors of her bedroom. She needed to feel Derick again. She needed to know that he was still with her. She needed him.

      Jasmine made her way down the short hallway to the stair case. At the bottom, she turned right and made her way over to his office. A burst of stale air came waifting out when she pushed the door open. Along the currents she picked up dusty papers, leather in need of a good oiling, and that sandlewood potpuri that sat in a bookshelf right behind his swivil chair at his desk.

     Jasmine took in the office that had been trapped in a time capsule, unmoving since the last time he occupied it. There was a pen still laying across the documents he was last working on. Jasmine wanted so badly to go into that room. To sit in that chair. To hold that pen. But she could never bring herself to cross the threshold. The farthest she'd ever gone was stretching her arm out with the door so she could take in the sight of all that remained of Derick.

      Not feeling any better, Jasmine turned her eyes away and pulled the door closed again.

*   *   *   *   *

      "Hello?" She knew that she shouldn't feel irritated that her mother was calling, but alas, she was irritated.

      "Jasmine, dear, dad and I are on our way into town. How would you like to meet us for lunch?" There it was again. Her mother putting on such a cheery front. Like she sould be excited to just move on.

     "Well," she began. Before she could think of another excuse, her mother interrupted her.

      "I meant to say that we are in town, and almost to the house."

      Jasmine groaned inwardly. And what mom really meant was they were in town, and pulling up in the drive.

      "The door is unlocked. I've got to put clothes on." Jasmine didn't bother to say her goodbyes. It wasn't like she wasn't going to see her mother in less than a minute anyway.

     Jasmine forced herself to get out of bed, and take off Derick's favorite shirt. She gently hung it up on his side of the closet before turning to her own side and her own clothes. She was pulling a hunter green tee shirt over her head when she heard her bedroom door open.

     "Jazz, are you decent?" her mother asked as she was knocking on the open door.

      Jasmine came out of the walk in closet in her tee shirt and a pair of underwear. "Well, I think that's a question you should have asked before you came in." All humor was void from her voice.

      "Oh, Jazzy. Couldn't you lighten up just a little?"

      Jasmine chose not to answer. She knew that any retort she gave would only make her mother upset, in turn making her even more the overprotective monster than what she already was. She turned around and went back into the closet to find a pair of shorts on one of the shelves at the back wall.

      Once she was fully dressed, she emerged to see her mother nosing through the array of perfume bottles atop the dresser. Another round of tears threatened to spring forth. Derick bought all of those for her. Every time he had to travel for work, he would come home with a new bottle of perfume. Somehow he managed to remember all the scents that she already had, because not even one of the twenty scents was duplicated.

      Not able to take one more second of seeing her mother disturbing what she felt like a little piece of Derick, she crossed to the door and pulled it open enough for the both of them to go through. "I'm ready," she said, and walked out.