Categories > Original > Drama > The Happiest Day
Jasmine moaned softly, turning over onto her stomach, and snuggling deeper under the soft, warm covers. They were the softest she’d ever laid on, come to think of it, and she briefly wondered what they were made of, as she burrowed farther into the bed.
She was almost back to sleep when someone cleared their throat loudly.
“Get up.”
Jasmine moaned in frustration, and put the pillow over her head to block out the annoying voice at the door of her room. The person in question growled, and yanked the pillow away, whacking her once with it.
“I said, get up,” the voice repeated, more forcefully this time.
Rather than respond verbally, Jasmine raised her right hand into the air, with her middle finger firmly extended.
“Oh, you pretentious little brat,” the voice snarled.
Seconds later, the entirety of the covers were yanked off the bed, leaving a nightgown clad Jasmine freezing cold; she sat up and glared at the offending party, who merely grinned cheekily in response. The memories of the day before crashed back into her head, and she glanced down immediately to find that her arms were still heavily bandaged.
She wasn’t, however, in the hospital, as she had expected to be. In fact, Jasmine did not recognize any of her surroundings. This wasn’t rural Illinois, either, the sounds outside the window confirmed that immediately. Before the person who had awakened Jasmine had time to speak, the teen lost her cool.
“THE FUCK AM I, THE FUCK IS THIS, THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”
The young woman who had woken Jasmine rolled her delicately lined hazel eyes, and raked a handful of shiny chestnut locks out of her face, before fixing a steely gaze on her houseguest, a devilish smile playing around her lips.
“You are Jasmine. You are in Chicago. This is my apartment, obviously, and you may call me—”
Jasmine shook her head, not quite understanding the name the young woman had given her. It sounded like Chaz or Chas, and so Jasmine opted for the second choice.
“So, Chas, why am I here?”
“You’re here to learn a lesson, kiddo.”
“You’re my foster mother?”
Chas stared at Jasmine, wide eyed, before falling over in laughter; Jasmine glared childishly at the adult rolling in the floor, completely consumed in a fit of mirth.
“Oh, that’s the best joke I’ve heard in a long time. I’m not a foster parent, and I’m not a mother to anything, yet. Furthermore, if I were going to be a foster mother, I sure as hell wouldn’t choose such a pouty, self-centered little snot like you. No, I’m more like a…guardian angel, if you will,” Chas explained.
“I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”
Chas, now sitting on her knees on the floor, next to where Jasmine sat in bed, reached over and tweaked the young girl’s arm.
“Ouch!”
“Still think you’re hallucinating?”
Jasmine glared, rubbing her arm.
“No.”
“Good. First thing’s first, I need you to go get a shower, get dressed, and meet me back out in the living room in ten minutes. I have errands to run today, and I obviously can’t trust you here alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you finish telling me who you are and what the hell I’m doing here. Also, what is that thing?”
Chas glanced over to her bag, which had fallen over in the doorway, and noticed that her iPad 2 had slid out.
“Oh, that? That’s an iPad, it’s a sort of tablet computer—oh, right, forgot. This wasn’t around in your time.”
Jasmine stared at Chas, almost in shock, as she heard these words.
“My time?”
“Yeah, your time, the dark ages, so to speak, technology wise. You didn’t have the iPod yet, let alone the iPod Nano or the iPod Touch, no such thing as an iPad, and Mac computers still looked like something out of the Little Mermaid movie instead of an actual laptop computer.”
“Exactly what year is this?”
“Well, I hadn’t planned on springing this on you until later, but since you insist…”
“You’re damned right I insist!” Jasmine exclaimed, glaring daggers.
“Brace yourself, this is gonna be a little bit of a shock. I’m glad you’re sitting down. Also, you have way too much of a potty mouth for a fifteen year old, just sayin’.”
“Tell me what fucking year it is.”
“2012.”
Jasmine, flabbergasted, began to laugh.
“Oh, I see what this is, some elaborately planned act to make me think that “this is what the world is like without you in it” thing, isn’t it? Ha ha, very original. Now, really, who are you, and what year is it?”
“Well, what do you know, the denial stage has already set in. Tell you what, you know how to work a laptop computer right? Mine is in the living room. Walk with me, please,” Chas instructed, seizing Jasmine by the upper arm and practically dragging her to the next room.
“Hey, let go!”
“Cram it, kiddo, it didn’t hurt that bad. Sit.”
Jasmine sat down, rubbing her upper arm and glaring, as Chas plunked a laptop down in her lap.
“Alright, I want you to check your e-mail.”
“My Hotmail e-mail? Okay.”
Jasmine logged into her account, noting that there were lots of names in her inbox now that she did not recognize; she chalked it up to Jessica’s flunkies under fake names, as they were fond of doing.
“Okay, now what?”
“Send yourself an e-mail. You know the time stamp on that can’t be faked, and if you send one to yourself, you’re more likely to believe the truth,” Chas instructed.
Jasmine eyed her warily, before following the instructions. As soon as the blank message appeared in her inbox, Jasmine opened it, and carefully examined the timestamp. Sure enough, it read “2/15/2012”.
“You were—this is—TEN YEARS LATER?!”
“Yes, I was telling the truth, yes, this is some surreal shit, and yes, Jasmine, this is ten years into the future. Like I said before, you’ve got a lesson to learn, kiddo, and I’m your guardian angel, sort of. Now, go shower and get dressed, and meet me back out here in ten minutes. I’m going to school you a little bit as we go through the city. If you are not back within ten minutes, I will drag you out of this house, nude, by the hair of your head. If you try to run away from me, I will find you, and when I do, I will make your brain implode. Or explode, depending upon the amount of pressure I apply to it. It’ll be one of the two reactions, when I overload your tiny little mind with info you aren’t yet ready to handle.”
Chas smiled widely, and Jasmine shot the older woman a childish glare, but obeyed the orders; at this point, she didn’t put Chas past following through on those threats, in spades.
“Oh, and one more thing, Jasmine sweetie. Yes, this did happen because of what you did last night, and before this is over, you’re going to realize what a huge mistake it was.”
“And what would you know about my reasoning?”
“I know you’re really stupid for it, because this is a future you will never see.”
She was almost back to sleep when someone cleared their throat loudly.
“Get up.”
Jasmine moaned in frustration, and put the pillow over her head to block out the annoying voice at the door of her room. The person in question growled, and yanked the pillow away, whacking her once with it.
“I said, get up,” the voice repeated, more forcefully this time.
Rather than respond verbally, Jasmine raised her right hand into the air, with her middle finger firmly extended.
“Oh, you pretentious little brat,” the voice snarled.
Seconds later, the entirety of the covers were yanked off the bed, leaving a nightgown clad Jasmine freezing cold; she sat up and glared at the offending party, who merely grinned cheekily in response. The memories of the day before crashed back into her head, and she glanced down immediately to find that her arms were still heavily bandaged.
She wasn’t, however, in the hospital, as she had expected to be. In fact, Jasmine did not recognize any of her surroundings. This wasn’t rural Illinois, either, the sounds outside the window confirmed that immediately. Before the person who had awakened Jasmine had time to speak, the teen lost her cool.
“THE FUCK AM I, THE FUCK IS THIS, THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”
The young woman who had woken Jasmine rolled her delicately lined hazel eyes, and raked a handful of shiny chestnut locks out of her face, before fixing a steely gaze on her houseguest, a devilish smile playing around her lips.
“You are Jasmine. You are in Chicago. This is my apartment, obviously, and you may call me—”
Jasmine shook her head, not quite understanding the name the young woman had given her. It sounded like Chaz or Chas, and so Jasmine opted for the second choice.
“So, Chas, why am I here?”
“You’re here to learn a lesson, kiddo.”
“You’re my foster mother?”
Chas stared at Jasmine, wide eyed, before falling over in laughter; Jasmine glared childishly at the adult rolling in the floor, completely consumed in a fit of mirth.
“Oh, that’s the best joke I’ve heard in a long time. I’m not a foster parent, and I’m not a mother to anything, yet. Furthermore, if I were going to be a foster mother, I sure as hell wouldn’t choose such a pouty, self-centered little snot like you. No, I’m more like a…guardian angel, if you will,” Chas explained.
“I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”
Chas, now sitting on her knees on the floor, next to where Jasmine sat in bed, reached over and tweaked the young girl’s arm.
“Ouch!”
“Still think you’re hallucinating?”
Jasmine glared, rubbing her arm.
“No.”
“Good. First thing’s first, I need you to go get a shower, get dressed, and meet me back out in the living room in ten minutes. I have errands to run today, and I obviously can’t trust you here alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you finish telling me who you are and what the hell I’m doing here. Also, what is that thing?”
Chas glanced over to her bag, which had fallen over in the doorway, and noticed that her iPad 2 had slid out.
“Oh, that? That’s an iPad, it’s a sort of tablet computer—oh, right, forgot. This wasn’t around in your time.”
Jasmine stared at Chas, almost in shock, as she heard these words.
“My time?”
“Yeah, your time, the dark ages, so to speak, technology wise. You didn’t have the iPod yet, let alone the iPod Nano or the iPod Touch, no such thing as an iPad, and Mac computers still looked like something out of the Little Mermaid movie instead of an actual laptop computer.”
“Exactly what year is this?”
“Well, I hadn’t planned on springing this on you until later, but since you insist…”
“You’re damned right I insist!” Jasmine exclaimed, glaring daggers.
“Brace yourself, this is gonna be a little bit of a shock. I’m glad you’re sitting down. Also, you have way too much of a potty mouth for a fifteen year old, just sayin’.”
“Tell me what fucking year it is.”
“2012.”
Jasmine, flabbergasted, began to laugh.
“Oh, I see what this is, some elaborately planned act to make me think that “this is what the world is like without you in it” thing, isn’t it? Ha ha, very original. Now, really, who are you, and what year is it?”
“Well, what do you know, the denial stage has already set in. Tell you what, you know how to work a laptop computer right? Mine is in the living room. Walk with me, please,” Chas instructed, seizing Jasmine by the upper arm and practically dragging her to the next room.
“Hey, let go!”
“Cram it, kiddo, it didn’t hurt that bad. Sit.”
Jasmine sat down, rubbing her upper arm and glaring, as Chas plunked a laptop down in her lap.
“Alright, I want you to check your e-mail.”
“My Hotmail e-mail? Okay.”
Jasmine logged into her account, noting that there were lots of names in her inbox now that she did not recognize; she chalked it up to Jessica’s flunkies under fake names, as they were fond of doing.
“Okay, now what?”
“Send yourself an e-mail. You know the time stamp on that can’t be faked, and if you send one to yourself, you’re more likely to believe the truth,” Chas instructed.
Jasmine eyed her warily, before following the instructions. As soon as the blank message appeared in her inbox, Jasmine opened it, and carefully examined the timestamp. Sure enough, it read “2/15/2012”.
“You were—this is—TEN YEARS LATER?!”
“Yes, I was telling the truth, yes, this is some surreal shit, and yes, Jasmine, this is ten years into the future. Like I said before, you’ve got a lesson to learn, kiddo, and I’m your guardian angel, sort of. Now, go shower and get dressed, and meet me back out here in ten minutes. I’m going to school you a little bit as we go through the city. If you are not back within ten minutes, I will drag you out of this house, nude, by the hair of your head. If you try to run away from me, I will find you, and when I do, I will make your brain implode. Or explode, depending upon the amount of pressure I apply to it. It’ll be one of the two reactions, when I overload your tiny little mind with info you aren’t yet ready to handle.”
Chas smiled widely, and Jasmine shot the older woman a childish glare, but obeyed the orders; at this point, she didn’t put Chas past following through on those threats, in spades.
“Oh, and one more thing, Jasmine sweetie. Yes, this did happen because of what you did last night, and before this is over, you’re going to realize what a huge mistake it was.”
“And what would you know about my reasoning?”
“I know you’re really stupid for it, because this is a future you will never see.”
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