As we were on our way to the venue, Earnest couldn't take his eyes off me. He kept glancing at me."You are effortlessly beautiful," he said, holding my cheeks and pecking them. "You are making me go crazy, Jas." I felt like a queen as he kept complimenting me.I guess this is my chance to let him know that I have always desired to be in that ballgown."I...want," I paused. I didn't really know how to tell him that I wanted to walk down the aisle with everyone watching me."What, my darling? Anything for you," he smiled and pecked me over and over again. I couldn't believe my ears. He asked what I wanted; I think I should let him know about my dream before I could utter a word.As we approached the venue, the driver slowed down and brought the car to a smooth stop.Earnest got out first, then turned to help me out. I took his hand, feeling a spark of electricity as our palms touched. I still had a lot to say to him. He smiled and led me out of the car, onto the red carpet that stretch
"The day didn't go as I wished. Earnest didn't introduce me to the crowd as his girlfriend,” I muttered to myself upon waking up with a strong pain in my head. “I was expecting him to say it loud that I'm his girlfriend. Before I knew what happened yesterday, those attention-seeker girls landed a hot slap on my cheek, which made me start fighting them. The dinner party just ended like that."I sprang to my feet and walked directly to the bathroom to wash off the junk that accumulated in my eyes. I gazed at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, my cheek still stinging from the slap. I still couldn't believe how the night had ended without anything special. I thought maybe it was because I wasn't dressed properly. I had been so excited to be introduced as Earnest's girlfriend, but instead, I had been humiliated by those attention-seeking girls.I splashed water on my face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. But as I looked into the mirror, I saw a reflection of a gi
I guess I should start from the first page of her diary. It's an incident that happened when my daddy left the house. She titled it "The Day He Left My Life."I started reading it: “I was bitter knowing that I couldn't see my daughter ever again. Why would she ever have to leave? Drake entered, drunk. I was stressed out; he is a burden to me. I don't think I will sit down watching him act this way when my daughter is nowhere to be found. I can't just sit down and fold my hands watching him mistreat me.‘That useless daughter of yours has finally died. I can now have my peace,’ he said. This got me mad. How could a father be praying for his daughter’s death?‘She is not my daughter and can never be; she cannot have Drake’s blood,’ he laughed abruptly. I think he is under the influence of alcohol.‘Drake, she is your daughter. We have to look for her.’‘Get out of here, you old smelling bitch. You killed the only woman who made my heart throb. I hate all of you. I can't ever imagine my
I opened another page; this one was actually the answer to my curiosity. Her first statement started with, "Time and days have gone by. I have been very happy since I met Sam." I smirked, a tickle of a smile escaping from my lips as I tried to see if I knew who Sam was, but I didn't. I turned my attention to her diary."You are indeed the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." His voice keeps echoing in my ear since he said this to me. I have never been myself. How could one be so charming and romantic as him? I wish I had met you in time. I would be glad I didn't waste my youth just like I did with a scumbag like Drake."I'm interested in you; you are really very attractive." It's screamingly funny for someone to find me attractive. I didn't know that because Drake, whom I have loved with all my heart, had never said that to me."Would you like to go on a date with me?" I felt young again when he asked me that. I gave it much thought, and I think I'm growing wings for Sam. I think
The sun shone so barely; it’s midsummer, and I was still on my bed, turning and tossing myself. "Jasmine is a mistake," my father retorted angrily. His face was so hardened that he felt like killing me. I hated my father. He is heinous. He takes pleasure in punching my mother. "Jasmine is not my child." He keeps reminding her. In fact, I agreed with him. I can’t be his daughter with such a ruthless and dishonest man. Sometimes I can’t still believe that a lovely, beautiful woman like my mother ended up with him. I can remember her telling me that her parents betrothed her to him. My father’s word keeps coming up in my memory; it's torn my heart into pieces in my mind—a father who has so much hatred for his daughter. It's always been my dream to attend Kisco High School, but when I told my father about it, he blurted out, "You are useless, and I won't squander all of my money on you." I dreaded him so much that I sat staring up at the ceiling, wondering what I could possibly do to
It’s late at night, everyone has gone to bed, but dad isn’t back yet. My mom was still awake, waiting for him to come so she could prepare him dinner. I fling on my bed. I was trying to meditate. I don’t know when I doze off. Now I’m waken by dad’s uproarious noise I could hear someone hitting something. "What’s happening? I hope this man is not hitting Mom." I muster to myself as the sound continues to disrupt me. I stood up to know what it was I was hearing as I got to my door. I quietly opened it because I was afraid to see that my dad was hitting my mom. I couldn’t bear to see him beating my mom. "Stupid woman, what do you know how to do, you and that your daughter is good for nothing," he yelled at her and hit her wooden chair on her head. She fell down unconsciously. I opened the door with so many tears in my eyes. I cast him a furious gaze. He is totally drunk. I approached my unconscious mother, watching her as she lay helplessly on the floor, blood streaming from her
I lay in my bed, attempting to mediate. I was daydreaming about the present, specifically how I received scholarships to Kisco High School. I took a few deep breaths, reopened my eyes, and returned to the awareness of my breath. After a few minutes, I felt compelled to jot down my thoughts. I opened my drawer and took out all of my painting supplies. I began drafting my feelings on a piece of paper, and the black paint of my mother and daughter's fear coiled in their eyes. It's my fear of insanity, I guess, as I draft it. "Jasmine, my dear," my mother called, and I unlatched my room door. I was pleasantly happy to see her face glowing with a resplendent smile for the first time. "I want you to prepare. You are going for Kisco scholarship exams. I strive to get this money to see that you entered that school. She handed me over $200. That’s a lot of money. I was so shocked and excited at the same time. Where did she get all this from? She must have suffered so hard to get this mon
"Jasmine," my father called with a calm voice. I was so surprised at the way he called; it wasn’t like that before. He must be having a very good day. I answered him, but somehow I felt like switching him around, like my money. "I have done everything for you." "The least you can do for me is pay me by getting married to whomever I choose for you as suitors." I glared at him. I’m just twenty, and he wants to marry me to someone who is just like him. "I have a very rich friend who is willing to take care of you." It’s quite certain I will be getting money from him every day for my upkeep . Don’t disappoint me, do you hear me?" I couldn’t focus on what he was saying with just his annoying voice and his adenoidal voice. He grasped my left ear, making it hurt. "Ouch." I winced in pain. His grip is really hurting. He must have been a wrestler when he was my age. Now I can remember him saying that his friend, who is just his age, will come and marry me off because he has a lot of pr