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The glimmering, glassy mirror echoes me. Its simplicity is complicated. Every time I
glance at this mirror, I am amazed. How can an inanimate object be so illusory? A tear
slowly caresses my check, as it slides off my chin and followed its path to the floor, it
was a constant reminder of the past year. Only three words were repeating themselves
in my head. While looking at myself in the mirror, I spoke them aloud. ''Who am I?''
''Cut! That's a wrap,'' Phil, the director, called. I hopped off the set to hear claps all
around me. I smiled humbly like my father always reminded me.
''You aren't better than anyone just because you can act.'' He would say in his low
warm voice. But after speaking these words, he would chuckle. I smiled.
This wasn't at the fact that I was a ''child'' actor or that people were clapping all around
me. No, it was that I was imagining my dad's eyes. They sparkled like he had just heard
the world's funniest joke, or he knew something wonderful you didn't. It was his eyes
that comforted me in the hard times. No matter what happened in my life, I could always
refer to those twinkling eyes to be there for me. My dad, was, is, a amazing person.
Phil snapped me back to the present, ''That was a great scene Jasmyn. We're done
for today, tomorrow 6:00 A.M. sharp?''
'' Of course, sure thing.'' I smiled slightly. My plan was to keep a normal look on my
face, yet to seem connected. I didn't really know if it was working, but I knew what it felt
like. This arrangement of my features felt very familiar. Of my ten years of acting, I knew just how it felt to ''put on'' my face. I used it every time I didn't get a character I wanted so
badly. I also used it quite a bit when I talk about- '' Would you Jaz, please?''
I again was broken from my train of thought. I wasn't listening.
I had about five seconds to come up with a response to Phil.
'' I, um, will most definitely consider it.'' That was always a safe plan, generalize it.
But when I really looked at Phil I noticed that he kept looking at his watch and was very
distracted. His eyes weren't really focusing on me or anything, and sweat
was forming on his forehead and on his palms. This look on the male species was very
common. Pre-date nervousness.
''Got a date?'' I couldn't hold back a giggle, followed by a giant grin.
Phil shot me a disapproving glance, then looked down. If I wasn't mistaken, which I
wasn't, he was blushing, deeply.
'' Well, um, yeah,' Still not looking at me, he sighed.
Boy, did I know that sigh. It was all to familiar. Here is something that I have to
remember about Phil. His wife died. It happened about four years ago. But the
repercussions were bad. When I say bad, I mean very bad. Footnotes version, Jamie, his
wife, left behind a one year old son at the time. So if you aren't as bad in math as me, that
would make him five. Phil is a great dad, when he is there. You see, when people have to
deal with grief, it comes out it different ways. For Phil, it was working, getting lost in
making movies. My theory is that he tries to ''enter'' that movie world. I love Phil to death,
but he wasn't ready to raise a one year old by himself. So, he sent Henry to his sisters
house. Where he figured that a women could raise Henry better then himself. He sees
Henry almost everyday, but it isn't like having a real father. And it isn't like having a real
mother either. I know this, which is why I so well understand the sigh.
My own father, has expressed that same sigh. It is the sigh of hopefulness, doubt, and
After my dad had countless nights of watching the discovery channel and sighing, I
made him a e-harmony account. After he realized the hint I was giving him, he pushed
himself. It was hard, but he did it. And now after twelve years of being alone, he has Mary.
The widowed, middle aged teacher is just about the perfect woman for him. But I know
who the perfect woman really was.
''Phil,'' he finally looked at me. ''It will be fine. Don't worry, she'll love you.'' I gave Phil
a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He responded with his goofy grin that was like the sun
warming up a cloudy sky.
At that moment, three things happened simultaneously. My phone started to vibrate,
a siren on a fire truck was going off, and HE walked passed me. I held his gaze, but broke
it first. I quickly dropped my stare to the floor. Out of the corner of my
eye, I saw him, he gave just the very smallest, smirk.
What a condescending loser, I thought. My rage towards-Sterling, it burned to
even think his name-was massive. The anger was creeping up from my toes and going to
my face. I could feel the scarlet, and it was traveling fast.
''Jaz, are you, okay?'' Phil tried to comfort me, but he was clueless. A quick nod of my
head and then I made a bolting run to the exit.
''This is your Early, I mean really early WAKE UP CALL!'' I reached over to silence my
radio alarm. But my finger was pricked, I came upon my kit. It was laid open. I never left it
open, let alone, on my end table. As I stumbled along this thought, I slammed the
booming voice of Tom & Tom's radio show off. Now that I was recalling last night, any
thing could have happened.
The smell of freshly baked pancakes and fried bacon was making its ways under my
door and into my nose. Groaning, I rolled over and flipped off my quilt. It was my moms,
she gave to me when I was born, or so I was told. I sat up, and ran my
fingers slowly tracing the patterns of flowers and little hearts. I wouldn't trade this quilt
in for the world.
Now more eager to get caffeine in my system, I quickly slipped on my chilly bunny
slippers and sauntered down the winding staircase. Lazily I dropped into my usual seat
at the end of our old oak table.
''Morning bright eyes,'' my dad greeted me like this every morning since before I
could remember. Before I could retort, there was a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.
One cream and two sugars, just the way I liked it.
''So Jaz, I was thinking,'' my father had
just said the five words, I didn't want to hear. I was literally dreading them. Ever since
Mom left us, when I was only five, my dad tries to ''bond,'' regularly.
''Maybe we could get lunch today. That is, if you don't mind being seen with your old
man.'' He took a cautious glance at me. I was contemplating how to tell him no. I didn't
have the heart to say what was really on my mind. I just sat there nursing my coffee. Then
The Silence started to creep back in. It was full of doubt and worries. I remember this Silence all to well. It was a childhood memory that I will never forget. After Mom left, it
filled all the rooms. It seemed like every time I walked in a space, it would be so heavy on
my heart, it would ache. It was worse when it would be mealtime. Dad would try to make
terrible small talk, but it never quite filled the hole she took when she left.
I suppose it got to be to much for Dad. He saw on TV one night, after an very long supper,
an ad for the next Shirley Temple. He knew I could do it. This opportunity helped him a lot
to be able to live for something. I got the interview at the age of seven. After that,
my acting career started up, and we never looked back. The Silence never did come
back. I wasn't about to be the one to let it back in.
''I loved to Dad, but, um,'' I was racking my brain for anything that would be
believable. ''But Phil wanted to spend lunch going over some stuff, so...'' I bit my lip from
babbling anymore lies. I was a terrible liar. Sneaking a look at his sad puppy dog face,
crushed my heart. My dad was taking me getting older pretty hard. He tried everything
from putting a brick on my head, to hugging me constantly.
''Maybe tomorrow,'' I suggested timidly.
"Yeah,'' he paused, ''maybe.'' I took another drink of my sweet, creamy coffee and
stood to leave.
''You know, she...she really loved you.'' He said this out loud. He said this, what I
doubted, was fact to me like 'we're having chicken for dinner.' I was frozen with shock.
Dad never, and I mean never talked about Mom.
''She---was scared and...'' he never finished, just trailing off into his own thoughts. I
wasn't really sure what he meant and I didn't understand the point he was trying to
make. I couldn't respond. It was like my feet were nailed to the floor. What had brought
this all on?
Then after a painful couple of minutes, it was if someone blew a whistle. Dad snapped
back out of his haze.
''Well, go get dressed. You'll be late!'' Those last words were followed by a strained
smile. Still totally confused, I managed to uproot myself and put one foot in front of the
other and proceed up the stairs.
''Jasmyn Elizabeth Williams. Over here! ''
Wow, did I here that phrase all too often. I shielded my face from the blinding
flash. This explanation only requires one word. Paparazzi. Yeah, like I said, it tells all.
My body guard, Hunter, or Hunt as I call him, was pushing his way through the crowd very
effectively. Let's just say he was very built up, as in NFL star. His strong hand guided me
through the sea of media. It seemed like hours before we finally got inside the studio. I
let my lips drop the placed formation of a smile.
''Is it just me or are they getting worse?'' I asked with an annoyed look on my face.
''You big star jazzy. Too, look at face in mirror, so beautiful.'' Hunter was from Jamaica.
His English was a tad broken. I couldn't imagine my life without him, he has played such
a huge part in my career. Whenever you look at Hunt, he looks fierce, but he is such a big
teddy bear underneath his shades.
''Thanks, Hunt.'' I added with a sigh. He grinned.
His grin was all I needed to brighten my day, but it wouldn't continue on that path for
long. Phil spotted me.
''Hey Jasmyn!'' He waved me over quickly, it looked like he was going to burst.
I walked over as fast as my fogged brain was allowing.
''What's up Phil?'' I forced myself to form the ''ill'' sound at the end of his name. I tried
to pull the corners of my sagging mouth towards my eyes, I wasn't having much luck.
''Well, I was thinking about on page thirty-three...'' He wasn't able to finish his thought.
'' Your coffee, Miss Williams.'' A cup that had my initials bejeweled on its pink handle
appeared in front of me on an outstretched hand. I could only stare at the familiar cup
that my lips touched every single day. This cup held my favorite coffee and this coffee
was made with one cream and two sugars, just the way I liked it.
''Oh,...I, um,'' I was having an issue with talking. I was all together speechless. For the
only reason my mind was a total blank sheet, was the outstretched hand, tan and wiry,
belonged to the one and only Sterling. My mind was reeling. You know how your brain is
supposed to send little messages to your body? Well, mine wasn't. Somehow, my hand
reached, grasped, and held the weight of the cup, which seemed to be a hundred pounds,
somewhat firmly. And somehow I responded,
''Thank,'' I swallowed hard to clear the large lump growing in my throat, ''you.''
I couldn't even look him in the eyes. I had been mentally preparing myself for this
moment in time, when I've have to talk to him. But like so much else, I wasn't near ready.
''My pleasure, JW.''
He retreated his hand and chuckled.
* * * * * * *
Well, well. I'm at a lose for words, any words really. He spoke to me. I can't
believe my eyes or ears. After all the things that happened to us. ''Us.'' I never thought
I would've said that again. I suppose I should try to forget, push the memories down into
the deep dark pool of bad things where I've kept them, but I can't.
This all happened when we were three, well, he was almost four, but that isn't the
point. So a couple of years before Mom left, we were put together. My mom was a knitter.
She loved to knit, and sew and anything that kept her hands busy. So, she found
a knitting circle that she liked. I still talk to most of the friends she made. Anyways,
one of the people she met was Jules. Jules O'Brien. Man, was she a friend. Even
when Mom went through her bouts of depression. Jules was always there for us.
She would bring dinner over when all we had was frozen meals.
''No, no! This isn't going to be eaten. Here, have hot and fresh.'' Then she'd place
a steaming plate of whatever she made in front of us. She would come over
every Saturday to clean. I remember waking up to the sound of the vacuum cleaner
at eight o'clock on the dot. Jules provided everything that we needed, that she
could. Something we needed, was for me to be entertained. And low and behold she
had a son my age.
Sterling, cringe, was my very best friend until, I don't really know when it hit, but I
felt it. It was when I noticed the way his hair fell in his face. Or how defined and strong
his jaw line was, but the first thing I really, truly saw was his screaming, silver-green
eyes. They would twinkle when he was talking about something he was so excited to tell
me. Yeah, tell me. I always knew that Sterling was good looking. I could tell the way girls
would watch him when we walked at the mall. They would give me dirty looks, thinking I
was ''with him.'' Hopelessly devoted to getting his attention, they would flirt,
shamelessly. But that wasn't even the worst part, sometimes, he wouldn't know. He was
just being the nice gentlemen his mother taught him to be. I guess guys don't realize that
for desperate girls any signs of speech are taken way out of context. I would sigh, pull
on his arm, and explain on the way to the car. The best part though, was that he didn't
know. He didn't know that he was, well, beautiful.
Okay so here is the problem, I don't know who I am, after see Sterling and thinking
about my mom. So maybe it doesn't help that I locked myself in my trailer closet, but I'm
running out of options. I totally freaked when he brought my coffee. I mean , come on!
Is he trying to kill me? Don't answer that. You know how before I was trying to not
remember those awful things in the pool of despair? That isn't going so well. The image
of my mom leaving keeps replaying in my head.
I woke up to hear a really loud grinding sound. It almost sounded like
metal forks going through a blender. It was not that nice for my ears to hear.
I pushed my quilt aside and climbed out of bed. My feet felt the chill of the
morning air. I sleepily opened my door, the noise stopped. I cautiously peered
around my door frame. Nothing. I walked out into the hallway. I looked down our
winding staircase. Nothing. I crept down the stairs very slowly. It was a little
eerie. The quiet was so loud, it filled my ears and weighed down my heart. I had
a terrible feeling that crept its way up from my feet and through my spine to my head.
I made my way through the living room. It was painted a deep burgundy. The fluffy
white couches didn't look the same. I ran my hand over the deep, dark wood of the
door frame. It was rough. Keeping my hand skimming along the wall, I stepped into the
kitchen. My memories of my mother would never be the same. She was slouched
on the blue tile floor, shaking. Her eyes were rolled back into her head where only the
whites showed. Her left hand was oddly bent into a claw shape. I tried to scream.
Nothing. I tried to run for help. Nothing. My feet were firmly planted on the ground.
Nailed. What felt like hours later, people pushed passed me and took hold of my
mothers limp and white body. They carried her away. Forever. I wished that she
would've come back. I wish.
Have you ever woken up with a sudden start? You know how you're all sweaty
and breathing hard, that’s how my nightmare ended and I came back to the real
world. I have to say it isn't much better.
A loud rapping sound came from the other side of the thin, fake looking wood
door. I was a just a tad disoriented to say the least. My eyelids fluttered open, everything
I saw was blurry. My head was pounding. My heart was aching. Ouch. My stomach was
growling, great my blood sugar had to be low. Dad was going to kill me then bring me
back to life to clean up the mess. I tried to sit up, my head was rushing fast. I was going
through a tunnel, and not the choo-choo kind. Okay, not a good idea to sit up yet. The
rapping sound came back again faintly. Along with a ''Jaz?'' It seemed so far away, like
it was in a old movie I used to watch but turned way down. I felt, well, yucky. The back of
my shirt was soaked. It stuck to my back. My whole body was achy and drenched.
Ewwwww. I didn't have a mirror, but I'm pretty sure my make-up was cried off. When I
moved my face it was stiff from the salty tears that dried on my cheeks. My eyes were all
puffy and sore. I felt my hair, it felt okay, but how much was that worth? Not much. I
suddenly felt a vibration in my back pocket. I jumped, so to speak. There was no way I
was getting that purple bejeweled phone and talking to human life. I had no idea what
time it was, when I ran and locked myself away, I forgot to make note of when my life was
falling apart. But you know, I'm just silly like that. (Insert sarcastic snort here) I knew I
was going crazy, but was someone trying to pick the lock on my trailer closet door? The
knob was click, click, clicking. I could just picture that person having a hair pin and a
hanger prying the lock open.
I again, tried to sit up. My stomach, no longer hungry, but churning. Who was on the
other side of this door? Who was going to find me in this state of awfulness? Click, click,
clack. They got it. A large beam of light shone on my face, squinting, I could make out a
tall, dark shadow. It was hovering over me. Then the next thing I know, I'm staring at the
pink stripped wallpaper in my bathroom. It was covered head to toe with all pinkish
accessories. Come to think about it, my whole trailer was made up of pink hues.
Was my trailer really this girly? I couldn't hold back any longer, no matter how much
I didn't want anyone to see this, it had to happen.
In the next couple of hours or so, the toilet became my best friend. But there
was someone flushing my best friend every time my stomach came inside out. My hair
was held the first few times, then gently gathered and put into a pony tail. Every single
time I would drift off into unconsciousness, I awaken upon a bunched up bath towel as a
pillow. The other present item I was thankful for was the leather jacket that was
carefully laid on me. It smelled so familiar. It smelled like something I wanted to
dissolve in. I wanted to fall into the folds of this amazing jacket. That is when I would
remember why. My best friend would find its way underneath me, with the jacket
floating just out of reach. After I was done, the ever warm jacket was replaced. I don't
know how long this weird kind of dance went on, but I almost didn't want it to stop. I
mean, don't get me wrong, I didn't like getting sick, but I was almost okay for the first
time in ten years.
''Jasmyn. Jasmyn, can you hear me?'' A low husky voice pulled me out of my haze, like
so many times before.
Every person I know owns a mirror, but have you studied your own image? When I look
at my face, I see the soft but yet defined jaw line; the hue is peachy cream. The edge of
my bottom lip is rosy, full and encases pearly hard enamel. My lips meet; the hollow
space between them now departed. Above my mouth, my nose has been carefully
placed. When I breathe, I see how alive I am. The puff of air is only evident on the mirror
for a brief lapse of time. Beside each lightly freckled cheek, my ears are listening to dry,
rough, fingers of my father as they caress the edge of the paper, awaiting the last word
so as to turn the page and continue the story. The distant hum of the cars speeding
along, the tires bearing the weight of tons of metal and the sound of my melodic,
monotonous and magical breathing are heard. I look upon my eyes; they are like the
ocean, a raging war, yet calm. The edges are darker, then lighter hues of blue toward the
pupil. My eyelashes are midnight black; they are lengthy and curled. They frame my
ocean eyes. My eyebrows are dark chocolate, arched and have a depth that follows
down my forehead and ends at my temple. My forehead rounds and meets my coal black
locks, my hair flows down and creates a camber at my shoulder blade.
You see, I turn to this mirror time and time again. The perimeter is bound with oak
wood. Pansies were delicately stenciled in magenta and emerald across the arched
frame. Even though this resemblance of me will change, will I as well? I know that I am
growing inside and out. I am not vain for referring to this mirror often, for this is how I
process my thoughts. It helps me find who I am. My mirror is much like a compass for
someone lost in the woods; the mirror points my soul north.
Yet lately, whenever I gaze into my mirror, I only get lost into a pool of nothingness. I'm
drowning in myself. I never have been a good swimmer, but the life guard was always
on duty. Then the life guard took a break. I slowly slipped into the deep. It felt like years
as the water wrapped itself around my ankles and crept up my calves. The current
yanked and as I fought, I grew weak. That's when I came to a resolution to let it take me.
Yeah, it would burn and hurt, but only for a while. Then I would be in a better place, right?
I was so preoccupied with the end result that I didn't think about the middle. The middle
is important, and long. Only then did I realize that I was being tugged upward; it was
almost more painful then being pulled away, almost. Some crazy, good willed person was reaching their hand down into what they could also be sucked into and grabbing my
hand. They were tugging hard. They weren't going to give up. The tugging grew to a
gigantic force, my hand ached. I almost wished that the force would let me be. I was
ready wasn't I?
''I have a confession.'' My breath was heavy with regret. ''I,.. I, I love Hello Kitty.'' A smile
emerged on my lips. The crowd laughed as I stepped off the stage from behind the
podium. Lights flashed in my face, Hunter took my arm gently at the elbow and lead me to
So, pretty much I was drained from late practices. I needed to catch some serious Zs. I
was surprised that Kelly was able to conceal the bags under my eyes. The press
conference went well. I talked about the new movie, not about Sterling, my next gig, not
Sterling, and my Dad, not about Sterling. If you haven't picked up on the ''No Sterling,''
thing, pick up on it. I am trying my best to hide anything weird from my dad. So far, so
good. Well, sort of; I have tons of homework, I think I'm getting a ulcer, and flashbacks of
my mom keep emerging from the pool of bad memories. Other then that, I'm doing...okay,
I'm doing awful. I don't think I've slept in sixteen hours. Trust me, Phil doesn't keep us
that long. One other thing that has been bothering me, my skin feels itchy. I don't mean
dry, like lotion can cure, I mean I feel uncomfortable. In my own skin, something that I've
never felt. It kind of hurts. Not unbearable or anything, just itchy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
''Jaz, baby doll. Wake up darling, its time to visit grams.'' She stroked my dark hair
that was stuck to my cheek from sleeping on it, away. Her long slender fingers felt like
butterflies on my hot face. Then like so many times before she laid down next to me. Just
for a few minutes before dad came in to rouse us again.
''Pearl... Pearl.'' My dad was searching for her, my mom, Pearl. Pearl Mae Anderson-
Williams. She was the person I always wanted to be. Her tall slender figure, her large
caring heart, and her beautiful voice.
''Pearl, have you seen my yellow striped tie?'' My dads head popped into my doorway
from the left side. His confused formation turned upwards to a smile. He leaned his head
on my doorframe, then pushed off and came to rest on my bed. ''What am I going to do
with you two?'' Moms eyes shut fast, and her fake snoring kicked in. I followed her
example at the age of four and played possum. ''Well, I guess I'll have to eat ice cream
all by myself.'' He stood to leave, I opened my right eye slowly. He was moving towards
the hallway at turtle speed. Waiting until we stopped him. Mom shot right out of bed and
ran after him, tickling. I quickly joined the game, defeating the target. We were a tangled
mess of limbs and laughs on my floor. ''My two best girls, what would I do without you?''
He in turn kissed both of us on top of the head affectingly. I smiled so big my left front
missing tooth showed.
''Come on Jazzy. Your daddy wants to get a move on.'' She swung me high towards my
ceiling; it was covered with those glow in the dark stars.
''You know,'' she said to me the night before she left us while tucking me in, '' if you
want, you can be one of those stars. Only if you want though, don't let anyone make you
what you don't want to be. Love you, baby doll. Nighty night, may God bless with you all t
he wonderful gifts he has in store for you.'' She would kiss me, turn off the light and
close my door three-fourths of the way.
That night I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't know that was the last time I would
smell her mommy-vanilla scent. Or hug her soft cotton P.J.s, or be whole as a person,
even at five. She was my best friend. I loved her so much. And now she is gone, forever.
Please mom, don't forget me until I get to you in heaven. Wait for me, please. Shine your
glow in the dark star bright so I can find you.
Keep your light bright.
''AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'' This scream was pouring from my mouth. Dad
bolted into my room like so many times before.
''Jaz, are you okay? What happened? Did you have the dream again?'' He pulled me
into his large encircling arms. He cradled me tight while rocking me on my bed with the
flower quilt. I couldn't make a sound that resembled words. I in fact didn't have the
dream I had been for the past month or so. It was the one and only memory I was
blocking. The most painful thing I have experienced in my whole world. The night
before....''It isn't fair,'' I wailed. Tears were escaping my eyes as fast as their molecules
could carry them. ''Why? Why did it have to happen to me???'' I was doubling over in so
much pain, it wasn't bearable. I needed out, now. I broke free of my dads strong yet
gentle arms. I tripped over clothes and myself as I pushed to get out of this house. I ran
and tumbled down our winding stairs. I ripped open the door and ran into a solid wall of
flesh. Through bleary eyes I saw my savior. I grabbed onto Sterling as hard as I could and
let all the tears and bad memories that I had been trying to hold back flood me. He
dropped the bundle of whatever he was carrying and hugged me tight.
''See, I told you. You can't live without me.'' He chuckled lightly. His arms squeezed
''Why, why did you leave me?'' I asked between tears. His face turned firmer, but
not less compassionate.
''I didn't Jasmyn. You left me. You left your dad, Phil and every single person that
wanted to reach in and help you. I guess that I was the only one that could still reach in. I
Could detach myself from the pain and save you from yourself.'' He sighed.
Even though it didn't seem possible, he again held me as tight as I wanted to hold
myself, my dad and every single person that had lost someone so attached to their heart,
that they couldn't go on without the tightness around them, just like me.
My dad sauntered down the winding staircase. He had tears trickling down his
checks. When I looked up in his eyes, I saw the fear that he was losing me too. I
suddenly felt a whoosh come over my body and blackness took over. I did feel a
presence of strong arms catch me though, ever present they will always be.
How do I cope? Music. A lot of three doors down and switch foot. When beats, rhythm
and pitches swirl around into my ears; I am at peace. I cannot thoroughly explain how it
makes me feel. I know that God sent music from heaven to keep me sane. The world
without music would be empty. When I walk into a room bare of music, the quiet is loud.
The silence almost burns and tingles; sometimes no sound screams. The message is
loud and clear. No wonder people in jail go insane. I know I would go crazy without my
Ipod. The point I am trying to make is that I was deprived of my Ipod. That was the most
terrible experience of my life, kind of.
After I blacked out in Sterling’s arms, I would not wake up. Sterling and my dad drove
me to the ER. I was then hospitalized. But before that lovely bit of the no Ipod and Ivs in
my arms, here was the car ride over.
“ Jasmyn. Can you hear me? You need to wake-up now.” Rushed, the words spilled out
of my dads mouth. My shoulder numb, was being lifted and dropped repeatedly. I could
not open my eyes yet, but I could hear Sterling’s frustrated thoughts spilling out of his
“Come on. Come on! Man, it’s a wonder people ever get anywhere.” Sterling looked
back at me, I think, and said,” If we make it, I am writing a letter to the president about
driving laws.” He turned back around and accelerated.
We finally got to the ER and this is what went down.
“ Her blood sugar is too low for my comfort. Put a IV in her left arm at once.” I felt a
strong prick in the crease of my left elbow. Winching, I opened my right eye very slowly.
The room around me was pure white, sterile. A bright white light shone directly into my
“ Her body is rejecting the medicine.” A blond nurse showed a worried expression.
“ Just stabilize her,” the dark haired doctor was getting impatient. “I have thirty other
victims from a major free way accident. Let me know if she gets worse. I’ve seen the
identical condition with her mother.” He turned to leave and sighed loudly. I opened my
other eye to see dark circles lining his eyes.
“ I need to…..” My lips are numb around the edges making my speech impaired.
“What is it dear?” The blond nurse was full of compassion. “ I need to get you going
first then we can make you more comfortable.” she smiled and carried on with her
Her words hit me like a soccer ball to the stomach. Those were the exact words my
mother used to tell me. My heart rate started to become erratic. My blood pressure
dropped like a rock. I felt myself slipping away into the deep dark pool of nothingness.
My eyelids fluttered and I saw the nurse press the HELP button. I finished slipping as a
team of MD’s raced into my room.
Dark. That is how I would describe what I was seeing. I put my hands in front of my
face, nothing. Kind of creepy, but better then pain. I wondered had I finally left? Had
Sterling finally let go of his silly notion to save me? That thought passed through my
mind when a pinprick of light appeared. The pinprick grew. It was now the size of a golf
ball and still growing. I walked, I think, toward the light. By the time I reached the light it
had expanded to the size of a doorway. Here is where I saw a lady dressed in flowing
white robes. She walked toward me with the grace of an angel.
“ Hello, baby doll.’’
My mouth dropped open, well I assumed. Nothing felt right in this dark world. The
angel was my mom. Just as beautiful as she ever had been. I floated toward her slowly.
She reached out her hand to receive mine.
“ Mom? I…I-wait, am I dead?’’ She laughed. “No, my precious child. This is merely a
point in the journey that I have to see you. I am not able to any otherwise right now.”
She smiled and I just stared in awe.
“ Mom, I,I, I cannot believe it is you.” I reached to embrace her, she stiffened her hand in
“ My gorgeous daughter, more then you know how much I would love to hug and fill the
loss time, but now is meant for much more.” I stared at her with the ignorance plastered
all over my complexion.
“I do not understand. I, ouch,” I felt a strong zap touch my chest.
“Listen my dear child, I do not have much time. I love you and I am meant to tell you
this. You are not ready to come the other side yet, whether you think so or not. You have
people’s hearts to change and children to bear. I have come to give you hope. You have
to stay alive no matter what happens. I love you,” in the middle of that sentence, another
zap came on my chest, this one harder and more painful.
“ Our time is almost gone, baby doll.” Her smile had to have been carved by angels. It
warmed me from toes to scalp.
The realization of what she had just said sunk in, “ Mom, I am not leaving you. I have so
much to tell you.” Tears started to trickle down my cheeks. “I have been robbed of my time with you. It isn’t fair!” I wailed the last words. I felt another shock to my chest this
zap almost unbearable.
“Jasmyn Elizabeth Williams, you will find me. I know that this is true. You have to go,
you have to help find me.” She placed both hands on my heart and pushed. The shock
that came to my heart made me scream. I felt like someone had taken my heart and put
it on a exposed wire. The dark was no longer around me. Light seeped through my
closed eyelids. I heard rushed footsteps.
“She is back. We got her back. Good, now make sure you stabilize her. “ The voice I
knew as the dark haired doctor. He had such a relieved sound in his voice. He exited the
“Thank you dear Lord God, for saving this young soul. Amen.” I knew that this was the
blond nurse. Yet, when I opened my eyes, the room was almost empty. There was the few
scattered EMTs, but no blond nurse. I know that she was there earlier, she had to have
been my angel. I closed my eyes from fatigue.
“She has been stabilized. I was sure that we lost her, I mean we shocked her four
times. Usually after three we give up. But this new nurse assured us that four would do
the trick. She was right. Matter of fact I do not even know where she is, I will go get her.
Be right back,” The dark haired doctor left the hall.
“Jasmyn.’’ My fathers voice, “can you hear me?” I blinked hard to get my heavy lids
open. His bright eyes were dull. I had never seen them before that way. He reached
down and squeezed me tight. “I thought…” he never finished his sentence.
“No hogging the girl, Mr. W.” I saw Sterling’s head rise over my fathers shoulder.
Dad released me and stepped aside. Sterling sat at the edge of my bed. “Don’t you ever
scare me like that again, do you understand?” He hugged me tighter then I thought
possible, when he pulled back, he had tears in his eyes. He leaned down and kissed my
forehead. He took a long breath inward, then he let it out. “ I love you so much,” he
whispered this in my ear. He stood from my bed.
Sterling and my dad shared a look. Sterling started to leave, “Wait. Where are you
going? I thought you said you were never going to leave me?” I cried and reached my
hand to Sterling. He received it and squeezed tight.
“ I am just going to be down the hall in the waiting room if you need me.” He smiled
and let go of my taped hand. His tall form exited the room. I turned my head to my father,
“ Dad I have to tell you something. It might sound crazy. When I…I blacked out,” He
“Honey, you didn’t black out, you flat lined. They almost gave up on trying to save you.
The doctor said that if it weren’t for a young nurse you would have been gone.” He let the
words sink in as he pulled the visitor chair up next to my bed. He sat down heavily.
“ You mean to tell me that I died.” My dad nodded his head twice. “Dad, I saw mom.”
The look that crossed his face was unexplainable.
He blinked rapidly. While opening and closing his mouth, a tear escaped his blurry
eyes. Then a sense of doubt moved through his eyes, he set his jaw, and became
“That is physically impossible.” The stern and certainty in his voice scared me.
“ You just thought you saw her,” the tone in his voice was insulting.
“I did see her,” I shouted. “Just because you never fought to keep her, doesn’t
mean she couldn’t have contacted me. She still loves me!” My top lip quivering, the
He entered, saw my lip and stopped. “ I am sorry. Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, no. Of course not. Anything new?” The coldness in my fathers eyes was starling.
I had never seen him so , so icy.
“Well, we couldn’t find the nurse, but we did recognize the symptoms. They were
“Yes, I know all that, anything worth while?” My own father was being so rude and
The doctor looked taken aback and insulted. I assumed that he did not get
interrupted often. Looking very meek he answered, “ No, not yet. Well, I have to go attend
to that other car wreck. I will check on you soon.” He gave me a look of pity. That was
new. He turned and left the room.
I raised my taped hand. I pulled back as much as possible with the IV restraining
me and I released. I slapped my dad on the cheek. Now looking back on this moment, I
saw that this action was not very respectful or nice. But at the time, it was all I could do.
My dad needed cold ice water poured down his back, and since I was immobile at the
time, this was the best I could do. I was confident of my decision, until he looked me in
the eyes. His look made my veins freeze. No words were said. We just stared at each
other. All the sadness and grief were almost tastable, if that was possible. This stare
down continued for hours, it seemed.
“How is…” Sterling trailed off as he got a good look at me and my dad. His head
and one hand was only visible through the doorway. He suddenly disappeared. I heard
him murmur something to someone in the hall outside of my room. My father had turned
his face as Sterling popped in, now he turned it back. Dad turned his more pinkish than
usual cheek toward me. I must have really let go.
There is no words to describe his expression. There are plenty of words to describe
mine: hurt, sadness, pain, grief, anger, people stabbing over and over again in my chest,
but most of all--hope. I knew what I saw and heard. My mom is out there; I just have to
find her, with or without my father. God has shown me my mother for a reason. I truly
believe this. I will let no one stop me. Ever.