Categories > Original > Drama > The Happiest Day
“Okay, so you said errands. So far, we’ve bought your groceries,” Jasmine deadpanned, closing the refrigerator door, after she’d tucked the last of the veggies into the bottom drawer.
“That was just the most pressing, kiddo, plus you needed to see that. You’ll notice that everywhere we go today serves a purpose—for me, I’m doing my normal domestic routine—for you, however, well. You’ll see.”
Chas shot the teen a cheeky grin, patting her on the head; Jasmine scowled, quickly batting the hand away.
“I hate it when you get all cryptic like that. Also, I have a question.”
“When don’t you have a question?”
Jasmine ignored the thinly veiled insult, and charged ahead with her question, determined to get some answers as to what was going on.
“Why am I here? What is the purpose of this?”
“Jasmine, honey, take the cotton out of your ears. This is the third time I’ve told you this, you’re here to learn a lesson. You got the first part of it earlier.”
“Yeah, yeah, my life means more than the opinions of everyone else on earth.”
“Well, that’s part of it, at least you’re starting to grasp the concept,” Chas agreed. “finally,” she added, under her breath.
“I heard that.”
Jasmine crossed her arms, glaring childishly at Chas, her mouth twisted in a snarl; Chas rolled her eyes, and fell into a motherly stance, hands on her hips.
“Spare me the teenage outrage, Hanson. The other part of your lesson, the part that you missed, is that the world will not end if the “boy of your dreams” changes his mind, or seems not to notice that you exist. Sometimes, fate has something better planned for you. And, if you haul off and try to take your life in a fit of grief, outrage, loss of sanity, etcetera? You’ll never know what that plan was.”
“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be helping me, you’re a real bitch.”
“Alright, that’s it. I’m gonna give you a piece of sage advice, honey. Stop. Feeling. Sorry. For yourself. To be honest with you, you really don’t have it that bad. Your parents—yes, both of them, crappy as your mom might be at her job—love you. They love you exactly for who you are, and there is nothing you could ever do or say to change that. There are plenty of kids who don’t have that luxury. At least back in your time, you have an escape, the bullying stops when you get home. Kids now don’t get that option. They have cell phones, all of them,” Chas ranted.
“…Kids have cell phones?”
“I know, again, more surreal shit. Pretty much every kid your age has a cell, and guess what? Their ordeal doesn’t stop when they get home. They have to deal with bullying in text messages, bullying in e-mail, bullying in instant messages, and bullying through social media.”
“What is social networking?” Jasmine asked, tilting her head to the side quizzically.
“What is—oh, right, that hasn’t happened yet. Social networking is a kind of website you can join and build a profile on. MySpace is the first of its kind, but it’s an afterthought in today’s society. No, I’m talking about Facebook, which is quickly becoming the new MySpace, Twitter, Tumblr, 4Square and the like. Kids today get bombarded twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. There is no break. There are kids killing themselves every day, because they get bullied for being fat, bullied for sending out nude pictures, bullied for the color of their skin, their accent, their religions. Kids are being bullied for being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, you name it. And you’re whining over this? You’re seriously telling me you slit your wrists over this? Please, Jasmine, tell me more about how your life was so bad, I’d love to hear it,” Chas snapped.
“You know, just because I didn’t get bombarded twenty four seven doesn’t mean my ordeal didn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean my experience isn’t valid, and it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t completely unbearable. Those notebooks were my diary, Chas. And that particular one was the only one to get a poem about a guy in it. Excuse me for being properly embarrassed that the entire student body at SHS was going to know,” Jasmine retorted.
“Answer me this, Jasmine. How many times have you been told by your peers to go kill yourself?”
Jasmine paused, and racked her brain; that was one thing she’d never heard from any of her classmates. None of them had ever outright told her to go kill herself. Chas stared her down, her gaze drilling into Jasmine’s forehead.
“These kids are outright told to go kill themselves?”
“Yes, Jasmine, they hear that every day. And sometimes, it’s not even coming from kids. It’s coming from the parents of kids who think it’s okay to treat other people this way. There are parents who condone this. You don’t know this yet, but if you see any of this, by 2006, cyber-bullying will be a big deal. It starts with a girl named Megan.”
“You keep saying “if you see this”. If I’m not dead, and I’m not technically alive, what is this?”
“Purgatory? Nah, it’s too nice, sadly, to be Purgatory. This is Limbo. Sort of. Look, kid, you’re here to learn a lesson. Even if I knew the answer to your question, I can’t answer it. It’s against the rules,” Chas explained.
“There are RULES to this?!”
Every time Jasmine started to get the hang of this flash forward thing, whatever it was, Chas blindsided her with something new, which made it even more challenging.
“Hate to tell you, kiddo, the world is full of rules, and not all of them are meant to be broken. Yes, there are rules to this. No, I can’t tell you what they are, as this is explicitly against the rules, too. There are only certain things you’re allowed to know, and it’s only things that will push you in the right direction. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d knock it off with the interrogation, okay? Now, come on, I have to go to Verizon Wireless and pay the phone bill. Reed will flip a bitch if his iPhone loses its 4G service, he depends on that while he’s on the road,” Chas stated.
“What’s an iPhone? And what is 4G service?”
Jasmine found herself flashing her “guardian angel” a cheeky smile, as the older woman rolled her eyes, and planted her face firmly in the palm of her hand.
“I’ll explain on the walk over, come on.”
~*~
“So, wait, you can get internet on the phone?”
“You can get really fast internet on the phone, and do pretty much anything with it that you can on a laptop. Comes in really handy, when you think about it, no?”
“Wicked! And it’s wireless? I’ve never had wireless internet before!”
“God you make me feel old.”
“Yeah, well, consider it payback for making me walk fifteen minutes, when you could’ve driven us here in four.”
Chas turned to glare at Jasmine, crossing her arms.
“Look, kiddo, walking is therapeutic, gives you time to clear your head. That, and I guess you haven’t seen the gas prices of 2012 yet, but it’s almost triple what it is in 2002. Walking is free, driving is expensive. We walk, unless it’s late at night or unless it’s over half an hour to walk. Go over there and play with the phone cases while I pay the bill, okay? Go on, shoo. Skeedaddle.”
Jasmine raised a middle finger to Chas, before walking towards the phone cases, peering interestedly at the ones for the contraption known as the iPhone. One in particular caught her eye—it was done all in crystals, in her favorite shade of pink, with white crystals spelling out the words “to write love on her arms”. Picking up the package, she took a closer look at it, and found that it was specially designed for a suicide prevention charity, by a famous clothing designer by the name of Allison Leonard.
“…Allison became a fashionista? But why would she do this?”
“I see you found the case, I was hoping that you would. Allison went on to graduate from FIT, just like she always wanted,” Chas observed, standing over Jasmine’s shoulder.
Jasmine jumped, screeching; Chas cackled like a demon at this, pointing at her in amusement.
“Not funny,” Jasmine griped, glaring.
“You know, she did that for you.”
“What?”
“Allison. She did that for you. The girl the charity was created for was a cutter. After what happened to you, Allison was inspired to use her craft to help others, and to do good things in the world whenever she could. She lives to lift people up, and tries to have a positive impact on everyone around her. A lot of her artwork is sold at charity auctions, the majority of which are to help at risk teens.”
“…I was an inspiration to her?”
Jasmine’s voice betrayed her feelings of awe at the action; she was sure that nobody would care if she died.
“You have no idea how much you were loved, Jasmine. You were Allison’s best friend, you know, and she blames herself for not seeing the writing on the wall,” Chas replied.
“But—no, no, there was nothing—she couldn’t have—this wasn’t her fault,” Jasmine stammered.
“Pity you can’t tell her that yourself, huh, kiddo?”
“That was just the most pressing, kiddo, plus you needed to see that. You’ll notice that everywhere we go today serves a purpose—for me, I’m doing my normal domestic routine—for you, however, well. You’ll see.”
Chas shot the teen a cheeky grin, patting her on the head; Jasmine scowled, quickly batting the hand away.
“I hate it when you get all cryptic like that. Also, I have a question.”
“When don’t you have a question?”
Jasmine ignored the thinly veiled insult, and charged ahead with her question, determined to get some answers as to what was going on.
“Why am I here? What is the purpose of this?”
“Jasmine, honey, take the cotton out of your ears. This is the third time I’ve told you this, you’re here to learn a lesson. You got the first part of it earlier.”
“Yeah, yeah, my life means more than the opinions of everyone else on earth.”
“Well, that’s part of it, at least you’re starting to grasp the concept,” Chas agreed. “finally,” she added, under her breath.
“I heard that.”
Jasmine crossed her arms, glaring childishly at Chas, her mouth twisted in a snarl; Chas rolled her eyes, and fell into a motherly stance, hands on her hips.
“Spare me the teenage outrage, Hanson. The other part of your lesson, the part that you missed, is that the world will not end if the “boy of your dreams” changes his mind, or seems not to notice that you exist. Sometimes, fate has something better planned for you. And, if you haul off and try to take your life in a fit of grief, outrage, loss of sanity, etcetera? You’ll never know what that plan was.”
“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be helping me, you’re a real bitch.”
“Alright, that’s it. I’m gonna give you a piece of sage advice, honey. Stop. Feeling. Sorry. For yourself. To be honest with you, you really don’t have it that bad. Your parents—yes, both of them, crappy as your mom might be at her job—love you. They love you exactly for who you are, and there is nothing you could ever do or say to change that. There are plenty of kids who don’t have that luxury. At least back in your time, you have an escape, the bullying stops when you get home. Kids now don’t get that option. They have cell phones, all of them,” Chas ranted.
“…Kids have cell phones?”
“I know, again, more surreal shit. Pretty much every kid your age has a cell, and guess what? Their ordeal doesn’t stop when they get home. They have to deal with bullying in text messages, bullying in e-mail, bullying in instant messages, and bullying through social media.”
“What is social networking?” Jasmine asked, tilting her head to the side quizzically.
“What is—oh, right, that hasn’t happened yet. Social networking is a kind of website you can join and build a profile on. MySpace is the first of its kind, but it’s an afterthought in today’s society. No, I’m talking about Facebook, which is quickly becoming the new MySpace, Twitter, Tumblr, 4Square and the like. Kids today get bombarded twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. There is no break. There are kids killing themselves every day, because they get bullied for being fat, bullied for sending out nude pictures, bullied for the color of their skin, their accent, their religions. Kids are being bullied for being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, you name it. And you’re whining over this? You’re seriously telling me you slit your wrists over this? Please, Jasmine, tell me more about how your life was so bad, I’d love to hear it,” Chas snapped.
“You know, just because I didn’t get bombarded twenty four seven doesn’t mean my ordeal didn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean my experience isn’t valid, and it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t completely unbearable. Those notebooks were my diary, Chas. And that particular one was the only one to get a poem about a guy in it. Excuse me for being properly embarrassed that the entire student body at SHS was going to know,” Jasmine retorted.
“Answer me this, Jasmine. How many times have you been told by your peers to go kill yourself?”
Jasmine paused, and racked her brain; that was one thing she’d never heard from any of her classmates. None of them had ever outright told her to go kill herself. Chas stared her down, her gaze drilling into Jasmine’s forehead.
“These kids are outright told to go kill themselves?”
“Yes, Jasmine, they hear that every day. And sometimes, it’s not even coming from kids. It’s coming from the parents of kids who think it’s okay to treat other people this way. There are parents who condone this. You don’t know this yet, but if you see any of this, by 2006, cyber-bullying will be a big deal. It starts with a girl named Megan.”
“You keep saying “if you see this”. If I’m not dead, and I’m not technically alive, what is this?”
“Purgatory? Nah, it’s too nice, sadly, to be Purgatory. This is Limbo. Sort of. Look, kid, you’re here to learn a lesson. Even if I knew the answer to your question, I can’t answer it. It’s against the rules,” Chas explained.
“There are RULES to this?!”
Every time Jasmine started to get the hang of this flash forward thing, whatever it was, Chas blindsided her with something new, which made it even more challenging.
“Hate to tell you, kiddo, the world is full of rules, and not all of them are meant to be broken. Yes, there are rules to this. No, I can’t tell you what they are, as this is explicitly against the rules, too. There are only certain things you’re allowed to know, and it’s only things that will push you in the right direction. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d knock it off with the interrogation, okay? Now, come on, I have to go to Verizon Wireless and pay the phone bill. Reed will flip a bitch if his iPhone loses its 4G service, he depends on that while he’s on the road,” Chas stated.
“What’s an iPhone? And what is 4G service?”
Jasmine found herself flashing her “guardian angel” a cheeky smile, as the older woman rolled her eyes, and planted her face firmly in the palm of her hand.
“I’ll explain on the walk over, come on.”
~*~
“So, wait, you can get internet on the phone?”
“You can get really fast internet on the phone, and do pretty much anything with it that you can on a laptop. Comes in really handy, when you think about it, no?”
“Wicked! And it’s wireless? I’ve never had wireless internet before!”
“God you make me feel old.”
“Yeah, well, consider it payback for making me walk fifteen minutes, when you could’ve driven us here in four.”
Chas turned to glare at Jasmine, crossing her arms.
“Look, kiddo, walking is therapeutic, gives you time to clear your head. That, and I guess you haven’t seen the gas prices of 2012 yet, but it’s almost triple what it is in 2002. Walking is free, driving is expensive. We walk, unless it’s late at night or unless it’s over half an hour to walk. Go over there and play with the phone cases while I pay the bill, okay? Go on, shoo. Skeedaddle.”
Jasmine raised a middle finger to Chas, before walking towards the phone cases, peering interestedly at the ones for the contraption known as the iPhone. One in particular caught her eye—it was done all in crystals, in her favorite shade of pink, with white crystals spelling out the words “to write love on her arms”. Picking up the package, she took a closer look at it, and found that it was specially designed for a suicide prevention charity, by a famous clothing designer by the name of Allison Leonard.
“…Allison became a fashionista? But why would she do this?”
“I see you found the case, I was hoping that you would. Allison went on to graduate from FIT, just like she always wanted,” Chas observed, standing over Jasmine’s shoulder.
Jasmine jumped, screeching; Chas cackled like a demon at this, pointing at her in amusement.
“Not funny,” Jasmine griped, glaring.
“You know, she did that for you.”
“What?”
“Allison. She did that for you. The girl the charity was created for was a cutter. After what happened to you, Allison was inspired to use her craft to help others, and to do good things in the world whenever she could. She lives to lift people up, and tries to have a positive impact on everyone around her. A lot of her artwork is sold at charity auctions, the majority of which are to help at risk teens.”
“…I was an inspiration to her?”
Jasmine’s voice betrayed her feelings of awe at the action; she was sure that nobody would care if she died.
“You have no idea how much you were loved, Jasmine. You were Allison’s best friend, you know, and she blames herself for not seeing the writing on the wall,” Chas replied.
“But—no, no, there was nothing—she couldn’t have—this wasn’t her fault,” Jasmine stammered.
“Pity you can’t tell her that yourself, huh, kiddo?”
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