That light, it's too bright for hell. How did I make it to heaven then? The pain and this light. This fluorescent light. This can't be heaven. There is no way God would install fluorescent lights in heaven. Which means I'm alive.
I try to move my hands, but everything hurts so much. My movements are stiff, creaking and straining as I turn my head from side to side. Flipping my palm over and pushing against the bed, I try to move myself up but something is caught in my way. Wires. Beep beep. I look around to check my surroundings, having no inkling of my location. White sheets. Salmon-colored walls. All these medical machines. I'm in a hospital room.
Daisy! I push myself up again and one of the machines starts to become erratic. A nurse comes running in. She's short and petite, her hair worn in a single braid to her shoulders.
"Well hello, sunshine! Nice of you to finally join us!" she exclaims as she rushes in to help me, steadily placing me back on the bed.
I lie down slowly as the constant throbbing pain on the back of my head refuses to let me get up again. It's hard to make sense of what has happened, and all I know is that Daisy is nowhere in sight. What does the nurse mean by finally?
"How long? Where's Daisy? Who has Daisy?" I ask her weakly, confused, trying to prop myself up on my elbows.
"Try months, honey," she said in a soothing, southern-like accent, completely ignoring my request for my daughter. "It's been almost three months. Now you lie back down while I go get the doctor and notify the police."
I stare at the door after her. The police. That must mean Daisy is not back? Or that....no. No! That is not an option. I refuse to accept that as an option.
A few minutes later, a man who I assume is the doctor enters the room. I only see saw him from the corner of my eye, more afraid of what test he will require from the patient who just woke up from a three month nap. I could have ignored him entirely, but he stands silently at my bedside, and curiosity causes me to turn and face him. His eyes. Those deep green eyes looks intently back at me, his square jaw tightens, light stubble shadowing from side to side. I let my vision take in more of him, his features bold and glaring, like how his eyes are glaring at me right now—like how I am staring at him right now! He shakes his head slightly, his thick, dark hair ruffling as he does so. Under different circumstances, I would have to say that he's quite beautiful, jet black hair thrown back in a natural yet mesmerizing way, but I don't care about how anyone looks, occupied with deeper emotions. This doctor seems quite young, but the sternness in his face makes him seem much older. He remains beside me without a word, tapping away on his tablet.
He proceeds to check me—light in my eyes, looking in my ears, touching around my head—a series of what I think is a routine checkup.
"How old are you?" he asks with a cold tone, his deep voice startling me.
"24."
"That's correct." What the hell, why wouldn't it be correct? Jerk.
He reaches to the side of my forehead, against my hairline, examining a wound I haven't noticed. His touch is light and gentle, but I pull back, wincing at the thought of a man touching me there, expecting pain to follow.
"It's ok, your stitches are looking good." His voice is commanding, but soft, and so familiar, almost like I've heard it in my dreams before. Impossible. I've never met the man.
"Dr. Leonard has been caring for you since you got here sweetheart," the nurse tells me. "I wouldn't mind having this handsome fella with his hands on me sometimes," she chuckles teasingly.
He doesn't respond back to her joke, but she didn't seem to mind the rudeness. The nurse must be used to his cold and crude behavior. This guy really is a jerk.
A series of other questions and examinations follow, all the while, his eyes are focused on mine. His expression changes from frustration to relief and back to frustration again. I watch his one dimple come and go as he focuses, reminding me of how Daisy's was, except she had two. My head starts throbbing again, and I couldn't be patient another minute in this ridiculous situation.
"Somebody tell me where the hell my daughter is!" I raise my voice as much as I can but it barely escapes as a raspy whisper, contradicting the threatening tone of voice I was going for.
"That's what we want to help you find out ma'am," a voice coming from the doorway answers me. An extremely tall and lanky man joins us in the already crowded room and pulls out his badge, flashing it to me.
"I'm Detective Gardner. I've been on the case since we found you at your house. I have been exchanging information with your sister, who says your daughter and her father are both missing. Can you tell us what happened that night?"
I look at the ceiling, the familiar chill of fear washing across my soul, and I try to conceal the drowning depths I feel within the cavity of my chest. I'm afraid, but I force myself to look at the positive prospect, the fact that Daisy is still out there and alive.
That night. I can tell him exactly what happened that night.
Tim came home from work late. I knew he was in the wrong mood so I gathered Daisy in my arms and a few of her toys from the living room floor. She was a small two-year-old, so I had no problem juggling her and the toys. I stood up to leave and over my shoulder I said to him, "Dinner is on the table. You just need to reheat it."
As I'm leaving, I felt my arm being jerked and spun around so violently, I dropped Daisy from my arms, luckily, with the couch there to catch her fall. I yanked my arm away, not putting up with his shit this time.
"You will not touch me like that again!" I screamed at him, but more to myself so I can gain and contain the courage.
He stares at me, not wavering. "I will do whatever the hell I want. It's my fucking house. I'm the one that works to give both of you this life. You ungrateful bitch."
"That is exactly why we are leaving. To give you back everything that is yours!" I yelled back. "This is over, Tim! The arguments, the pain, the abuse. I am done and we are leaving."
"And I will have full custody of Daisy after my team of lawyers are done with you. And you will never see her again." His threats were repetitive from many times before, but never ceases to dull the sharp effects it had on me. Except this time.
"You don't want to do that," I held back the tears because I cannot show weakness now. "I've gathered all the evidence. Videos of you hitting me, recordings of you threatening me, texts messages of all the horrendous things you've said you would do to me. It's over, Tim! Even your family's team of lawyers can't help you." I take my first deep breath, knowing that I only have seconds to gather my next thought. "So please, do the right thing for once and step aside so we can leave."
An unexpected fist met my left cheek, followed by my body crashing directly on the coffee table, glass shattered around me and pierced into my skull with hundreds of tiny shards. He leaned over me and sent more blows directly to my face.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. He was exhausted now or his fist was in pain. He threw me aside, turning to spit on me before he walked away. But none of this was as painful as watching him take half of my heart away, ignoring her cries for me. He was gone with...with...
Her name is choked in my throat—clawing to get out, but unable to escape—as I relive the most heinous night of my life. I close my eyes and tears begin to violently and uncontrollably stream down my face.
The whole room is quiet at this point. I can hear the nurse sniffling, but other than her, silence. I keep my eyes shut, unable to confront her emotions, as I'm struggling with my own. I'm shaking, and maybe it's from the cold of the hospital or from the memory of it all, but I know it's mostly from the excruciating pain, the pain of remembering my daughter's perfectly round face and thin, rose lips, crying out for her mom, tears coming from her emerald green eyes—tears that I desperately long to wipe away.
I slowly release my lids and allow them to flutter open. Dr. Leonard is standing at the end of my bed, his eyes infuriating, looking right past me, lost, yet focused. My gaze drops to his hands, which are now tightly in fists. He's angry, that I know, but I can't fathom how he can be so upset about a situation which has nothing to do with him. It could be that I have mistaken his nonchalant character as callous, because the emotions are written blatantly across his face now.
He catches my stare and his eyes immediately softens, now filled with dreariness. They remind me so much of Daisy's. Those pleading eyes. Pleading me to come get her. Pleading me to save her. Pleading me to get up.
I can't breathe. My chest feels so stricken with agony, it can no longer function correctly. Everything becomes fuzzy and the room starts to spin, the sound of multiple voices calling my name fades slowly into the background. Once again, darkness returns.
✤✤✤
I wake once again in the same room, this time to find the familiar face of my little sister, I have never been happier to see her. Her hair is professionally ombre blonde, the dark roots fading into lighter shades until it stops at her shoulder. She always looks so chic and trendy, matching the perfect earrings to her outfit, the perfect shoes to her clothing.
Violet grabs my hand and squeezes it as she purses her thick lips together and her eyes become glassy, making them a lighter shade of hazel. She reaches up to sweep the bangs from my eyes, eyes that are almost identical to hers. Our features mirror each other, the only difference being that she had an oval face, while mine was heart-shaped, ending with a slight point.
We hold each other's gaze for some time, neither of us speaking. That's the thing about us. We didn't have to talk to know exactly how the other was feeling. Being eighteen months apart, we grew up feeling more like twins, sharing this bond, this hurt, that connects us in a way far too great, words sometimes cannot suffice.
"You look like crap," she tells me, her voice raspy, evident that she's been crying for hours. "If you ever scare me like that again, I will—well, just don't. Please, Jasmine. You're all I have. All I've ever had."
I can't bear to look at her like this.
"Violet," I whisper, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
I should have never hidden my life from her, rather confide in her as the little sister who would have been there for me, like she's alway had been in the past, sharing all of our lives' joy and despair with each other, and trusting that she would have been able to help me leave safely with Daisy.
I tell Violet everything. How I realized I made a mistake the first time he slapped me across the face in his office, while I was pregnant. How he cried and apologized and swore it was his first and only time, and that the baby and I meant more to him than his own life. How the hitting became more frequent, but the apologies became scarce. How I continued to hold on to the hope that once the baby came, things would change. How I watched him love Daisy, and knew that no matter how he treated me, he was a great father. How I hid this from her because she didn't need anymore pain and dilemma in her life, especially from me, and how it all ended so wrong.
She's quiet, but her hands never left mine, soothing me with an immeasurable amount of comfort. Even so, I don't look at her not even once, ashamed of my confession.
"I will talk to the detective," she finally says, matter-of-factly. "But Jas, they haven't found Tim or Daisy." She's looking down at the ground, full of regret, like any of this is her fault. "They've put out Amber alerts. We've even begged Tim's family to help us if they know anything at all, which they swore they had no clue. Taylor even notified every pediatrician he knows, just in case she shows up."
"Taylor?" Not a name I recognize.
"Dr. Leonard," Violet answers. "He's been caring for you since you got here, but he's so dedicated. Taylor's been really helpful, Jas. He even comes in on his days off just to check on you. I'm so grateful for everything he's done."
At this point, I have disappear into oblivion because nothing matters now. Daisy is gone, and I don't know how to survive my remaining days without her. Besides from Violet, she is the only other person in this world that gives me strength to deal with whatever shitty hand life is about to deal me. Because with someone as innocent and beautiful as her, how can this life be all ugly, all darkness, when she radiates light with every smile she made?
I think about just ending it. My life. It'll stop the pain, and I won't feel anymore. But what if Daisy comes back? I couldn't just assume the worst and give up on life. Tim might be a lot of things, but he loves Daisy. He wouldn't hurt her. Besides, what would Violet do without me? I am all that she has left in this world. All these thoughts cross my mind, and I laugh at myself for being a coward, thinking of such absurdity, ready to run so quickly now, yet not having enough courage to leave much sooner.
My heart is aching. Pain should be something familiar by now, disappointment and grief being common tackles starting from our early stages of life. For every ounce of happiness we received, Violet and I would have to pay in multitudes the detriment. We took comfort in knowing that we, at the very least, had each other.
I look over at Violet. She's still, patiently waiting for me to come back down to reality, allowing me a moment to be alone within my thoughts. "Vi, get me out of here ASAP. Please," I beg her.
She nods slowly, understanding the desperate plea behind my eyes.