Impudent [Jasper Hale]

eighteen ; safe and sound

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Do you ever feel like there is no point in getting dressed up, and put on the makeup and heels, and do your hair because in three hours this will all be behind you and gone and dead?

So there I was, in my underwear and heels, looking at the mirror in five minutes to eight p.m., with no chance of getting there in time, and no will to actually do that.

What was the point, really?

Beauty passes. Beauty and life, they're both gone in time, so what was the point?

I knew I was beautiful. I did, I used to look at my pictures for hours and think how perfect I looked and how can I look even cuter, but at that moment, when I stared at the mirror, I felt ugly.

Was that how people saw me?

A stupid brunette that almost died, that should've died? Me and my so-called beauty were supposed to pass away from this world months ago, and I was still here, and at that moment, I could not bring myself to be thankful.

I am so used to wrecking and ruining, that I almost never notice it, and I can't stop.

I blinked away the tears, causing more to fall. I spent so long telling myself that I was so much better, but all that I needed was to see the gray shirt Iggy gave me three years ago to realize that I can't handle it by myself.

I just can't.

I bit my fingernail, eyes watching the trees that swayed in my window. I shut my eyes, unsure of who I was.

I was Ashley Swan, that was the only thing I knew. I wasn't sure if Ashley is happy or sad, or if she can be sad. I couldn't tell you for the life of me what Ashley Swan wants from her future, but she was feeling worthless and her head ached to no end.

"Stop," I heard my voice say.

"Just stop it."

I blinked my eyes repeatedly, they were dry at last. I ran a hand through my hair, rubbing my face, was that what Dr. Sleepy said that I might suffer from?

Moments when I'd lose myself and would hate myself and my head would make me want to kill myself? Was that what he was speaking of when he said that I may not be able to recall anything  from that night, but I'd wake up screaming? That I'd be constantly anxious and feel alone?

I didn't like PTSD.

I didn't like having this trauma.

In fact, I hated it.

So I stood up, threw on a shirt Jared gave me the first time I slept at his house, and made my way quietly to the bathroom, grabbing a sleeping pill from one of the bottles I never opened.

Prom was a waste of time.

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Five minutes later I was laying in my bed, waiting for the pill to kick in, and avoiding any thought at all.

"Ashley?" dad asked, knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Dad opened the door slowly, before he finally saw I was in bed.

"Ashley Swan is skipping on the party? Is there something wrong?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed, walking to sit next to me.

"I'm not really feeling like going."

"Oh," he accepted, though looking suspicious. "Well, is there any particular reason?"

I looked away, "Well, you remember when Dr. Sleepy said that most PTSD suffer from anxiety and depression and chronic pains? And how there could be insomnia and nightmares, and amnesia of some sort with the whole traumatic experience?"

"Yeah," he said, probably seeing where I was going with this.

"Then I think it's my first time suffering from anything but the nightmares and the amnesia."

"Want me to get you anything, sweetheart?"

"No, I took a sleeping pill, I just wanna sleep."

"Oh, okay," Charlie looked awkward. "Good night then, sweetheart," he wished me, placing his lips on my forehead before leaving me on my own once more.

I was starting to get sleepy when I heard a knock on my window, and turned to see Jasper sitting there like it was completely natural, waiting for me to open the window.

I stood up, going to the window, only halfway there realizing I was wearing no pants and that a. Jasper will see me pantless and b. I'm gonna get cold when I open the window.

I ignored both of the facts, opening the window and closing it once more when Jasper was in.

"Hello."

"Hi Jas."

"Why are you not in the prom?" he asked with a smile, before he furrowed his eyebrows. "And what happened?" he sniffed the air, "did you take a... sleeping pill?"

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well."

"Oh." he said, pushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "Well, it's a shame, you would have been the most beautiful girl if you did come."

I gave him a pathetic excuse of a smile, before sighing. "I really am tired, so... you can stick around for a while if you'd like, watch TV or whatever, but I-" I yawned, "I wanna sleep."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"I wouldn't mind," I said truthfully.

"I could stay the night, if you'd like." he said, hesitant. "You know, make sure to keep the bad feelings away and make  sure the bed bugs don't bite," he continued with half a smile, and I couldn't help but giggle. "So? Is that a yes?"

"You could stay," I shrugged. "But feel free to leave when you're bored."

"Don't worry, I will," he smiled brilliantly. 

"But," I looked at his clothes. He was wearing Prom Clothes; a black, elegant Tux. "Your clothes?"

"Oh, don't worry," he waved it off, "I'm comfortable with the pants, and I've got a tank top underneath the shirt."

"Okay then," I bit my lip. "Goodnight Jas."

"Goodnight Ash," he smiled, sitting down on the chair and examining the book I had laying there. "Safe dreams," he added as I covered myself in the blanket.

And then I faded to pure darkness.