𝑅𝑂𝑆𝐸𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑌 | jasper hale [1]

I. 𝐻𝑂𝑀𝐸

REVISED: 9/24
WC: 1,225


       𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝑅𝑆𝑇 𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑃  to escaping an undesirable life is to sever all attachments- to forget everything about the place you used to call home. I had been ready to say goodbye to my old life in Savannah for a while, and now I had a justifiable reason to do just that. 

       It was just over a month post the incident when I decided it was time and packed the few things I could call my belongings. I finally felt desperate enough to flee that town I had called home for seventeen years and the woman who I had called mother, no matter how undeserving of the title she had been. All of these reasonings in their own respects had accumulated to the point of my no longer being able to push it back; so there I found myself three greyhounds tickets in, standing at a small bus-stop at 10:36 PM on the outskirts of a rainy little town known as Forks. 

      I was in a state of aching limbs and chattering teeth by the time I managed to reach the petite yellow home on the outskirts of the town. The paint had been chipped and the plants were overgrown from years of poor management, but the small porch-light flickering into view gave me hope that I might soon see my favorite person; the only family I really had left. It took only three knocks for the door to come swinging open revealing the bewildered face of my Aunt Jayne. I took in her appearance noting the same unkempt blonde curls adorning her head, strands splaying each and every way.  Her emerald eyes were wide and her mouth was ajar signaling to me her surprise to see her seventeen year old niece drenched on her doorstep.

"Hey, Aunt Jayne.", I grinned. She furrowed her brows. 

"Rose? What in the hell?" I shrugged in response as she engulfed me into a hug. "God, I missed you. Three months. Three months and no call, no text, no nothin' to let me know you were okay. Do you know how fuckin' worried I was?"

"I know, I know..that's actually the reason I'm here. I needed out J- you know? I couldn't stay in that place another minute with her." She pulled back, keeping her hands firmly grasped on my shoulders.

"This isn't exactly legal..you do know that?" She bit her lip trying to think of what to do as I was silently praying she wouldn't make me go back. I didn't think I could take another night in Georgia. "Okay, you know what? I've never been one for rules, and I reckon if you stay on this porch for any longer you'll get hypothermia. We'll talk more after you are settled. Alright, hun'?" 

       I barely had time to form a response between her shoving me through the door and onto a counter stool. I took in the almost familiar surroundings. Not much had changed since I had been here last. The air still smelt of cinnamon and nutmeg, the walls were still decorated with the woman's very own oil paintings- plants and books scattered throughout. Her house always felt warm and cozy. It truly was a home.

      Several blankets had been wrapped around my shoulders and a mug of chamomile placed in my hands before I could even begin to regain the feeling in my frozen fingers. "So, kid. I'm guessin' that it has to be pretty serious for you to show up in this town after eight years." She made sure to emphasize the eight years and shot me a mock-pointed look awaiting my response.

"Okay- well, yes, I wouldn't have come here for a quick check-in, even though I do love you dearly."

"You definitely got the sarcasm gene from your father.", she chuckled. A sad smile rested on her features at the thought of him. I knew she missed her brother. She always told me stories about how alike we were in both appearance and personality. I missed him too. If  it is even possible to miss a person you never really had the chance to meet. I can't really blame the man for dying though. "He loved you. Leavin' you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do."

"You say that as if he had a choice." I twirled the tea string between my fingers, not wanting to look at her face.

"I didn't mean it like that. If he could have stayed with you he would've." She turned her back to me and poured herself another cup. "If he knew what your mama was gonna' turn into..he would have made sure you were-" I cut her off before she could continue. I'd rather not hear about all the things he wanted for me that didn't happen.

"I know." The words came out harsher than I had meant them to. She turned back and met her eyes to mine. They were just as they'd always been except for the small tinge of pity. It was well-hidden but I still caught it. She didn't even know the half of it yet. "I'm sorry. I-I'm just tired. It's been a long trip and I am certainly not ready to talk about anythin' just yet."

"It's alright hun, but in the morning we are going to figure some things out, alright?" I just nodded in response hoping she'd let me go- thankfully she did. "You know where your room is." 

       With that she shooed me up the stairs with a fresh mug. I found the guest bedroom with ease noting that nothing much had changed since my summers there as a child. It had the same beige tuscan walls as it had before. There was the large window seat where I used to fall asleep, the dresser we painted small flowers on together, a large bookshelf filled with as many novels as could fit, and the queen bed with one of my Nanna Maggie's famous quilts. The one she has made just for me.

     The room felt more mine than any place I had permanently lived in before. Even though I was dreading the conversation to be had with my doting aunt, I still felt that just being in this place made it easier to breathe. I set my bags on the window seat and made my way to the small bathroom. It was the first hot shower I had in ages and it helped to soothe my aching muscles greatly. It was nice to not have to worry for a short while. It was nice to feel safe. I got out and towel-dried my blonde curls before slipping on an old tee, grabbing my mug and a random novel from the shelf before slipping into bed. I knew I was most likely not going to sleep- but I was at least comfortable, which was a feeling I'd been missing for a long time.