The Art of Finding Jasmine Rose Peters

19

'It's always too late to start over if you're not willing to work hard.'
~JRP

Ale heaved a sigh as his house came to view.

School was over, and he had to return home. Heck, if he didn't return on time, only God knew what that witch would do to him. He and his brother, Pete, had named her witch because that was exactly what she was.

Pete had gotten a scholarship to a fancy school in Greenside. He was always the smartest of the two Harrison brothers. Although Ale was thrilled for him and had pushed him to accept the scholarship, he missed him so much and wished he hadn't left him alone to fend off the witch by himself.

He opened the door slowly in case she was passed out on the tiny couch in their small living room. Peering over his shoulder, he saw that she was indeed passed out, and quickly made his way up the stairs.

It still baffled him how she had been able to keep the house after their father passed away when they were little kids. He had expected her to sell the house to buy herself those fucking pills she was addicted to. But she hadn't, and Ale was rather glad about that.

Ale made sure to skip all the stairs that creaked. The house was old, but it was better than living in the streets; like most of their mother's friends did. There were two rooms upstairs, and Pete had allowed him to get it. It was the biggest room, and Pete said he didn't mind living in the smallest room of the house downstairs.

Now that he wasn't there, Ale had no one to take his beatings.

Removing his shoes, and lying down on the broken bed, Ale sighed. He still had loads to do before she woke up. But he had to celebrate not being caught.

He had stayed after school watching Amelia practice ballet. He had hidden by the window and didn't leave till he suspected someone had seen him. She was the prettiest girl in school, and he had a huge crush on her like every other boy in his class.

But he knew she wouldn't talk to someone like him. He had bruises all over that he covered with his tattered jackets, and most of the students went out of their way to show their dislike towards him.

His eyes were closed, his back reclined, and for the first time in forever, he had almost fallen asleep until a yell startled him.

"Ale, where the hell are you?"

He wondered what she wanted or what he forgot to do. Was it the dishes, the lawn, or did her stupid excuse of mental illness come up again and she wanted to carry out all her frustrations on him?

"Ale!" his mother shouted again.

He sighed before leaving his room to see what the witch wanted.

***

The car screeched to a stop at the front of an office. Hayden wanted to ask what they were doing in the place, or rather what the place was.

"Come on," Calvin said. He had already unbuckled and turned off the car while she was still daydreaming.

She came out of the car. The building looked homey and had a huge sign with the name Counselling & Therapy.

"You were serious," Hayden muttered more to herself than him.

When they had first discussed their little plan sprawled in her room, she didn't think Calvin was serious when he told her he wanted her to see the same therapist he was seeing. She was shocked when she found out he went to therapy but later realized his sister's death must have affected him really badly.