You Were Always Mine

26: Rose Petals on a Canvas

Jasmine

Paint splatters onto my face. I let out a frustrated groan. This is the third time I have dropped my paint brush, and it has sent paint flying once again at me. I blame Carter. If it wasn't for his stupid idea that we need to find ourselves apart from each other then I would not be caught up in my thoughts right now instead of concentrating on the new art piece I have been working on while slowly slipping into madness.

I stare at the white rose on the canvas before me. My favorite flower. Roses were all I used to draw when I was a child. I would draw hundreds of them on little pieces of notebook paper and give them to Carter. I smile at the memory of it. His face would always brighten in surprise at the fascination of how life like the roses looked. The twist to my painting of the white rose before me is that the rose looks plain, but if you tilt your head to exactly just the right angle, it becomes a rainbow of colors. You wouldn't know, though, unless you took the time to see what else could lie within its white petals. White petals that look so realistically real that I have even surprised myself with my own skills.

I take a step back from my painting. I feel like there is something more I could do... I am just not sure what.

My doorbell rings, startling me. Ever since everything that happened with Angel and his threats, I have been on edge, scared that he might just show up. I had stopped going to school because I was afraid of him trying to get to me while I was there, and I was afraid that if he were to see me out somewhere, he might try something. I do not answer calls or texts from any of my friends but Kelly. I didn't tell her what happened with Angel, though. Carter never calls or texts, not that I would answer if he did. I have to keep him safe, and if us not being together means he lives, then so be it. I would rather watch him move on and love someone else than watch him being placed into the ground inside of a casket.

I sigh, setting down my brush and making my way out of my studio, down the hall turning left and going through a swinging door that leads into the dining room that enters into the kitchen. From the kitchen, I leave and take another short hallway and enter the living room. From there, I would enter into our entry where our massive marble staircase lies a few feet away from our double front doors, but I find my pace slowing down.
As I am about to round the corner, I hear my mom speaking with someone. I peek around to take a look, and my heart leaps inside of my chest at the sight of Carter. For a moment, I lose track of their conversation while I continue taking in his appearance from my hiding place. His face looks downcast and in shock as my mom continues on.

"I am sorry, Carter, but she doesn't wish to see anyone now." I hear her say. She goes to close the door, but Carter stops her and then hands her something.

"You take care of yourself." She concludes before shutting the door. I see her look down at the bag in her hands and sigh.

I come out from behind the corner.
"What's that?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Damn, Jasmine, don't come up on me like that." My mother clutches at her chest dramatically, and I roll my eyes.

"Why are you not packing?" She asks in an accusatory tone.

"Why are YOU not answering my question?" I cross my arms defiantly.

"Jasmine, our flight leaves early tomorrow morning. I do not have time to argue with you about this."

"Then don't," I scoff. "I don't even want to go. You're forcing me!"

"Because you have proved yourself irresponsible!" She shouts. "Your father and I gave you freedom to do as you pleased as long as you stayed in school, got good grades, and checked in with us occasionally. We trusted you, and you broke that trust."