No Time To Bleed

Is it totally weird to say I got home after that car ride, locked the door to my second floor room, and turned up the music so loud that Uncle Trevor and Aunt Meg couldn't hear my screaming sobs?

It's not like I saying my life isn't horrible or the worst.

It's just that it's my own and I'm forced to live it.

There's so much to what's happened and been done that I can't even begin to explain it all right now.

And if I did, would you even understand?

I'm not a mean person. I just hate being taken advantage of.

I'm not closed off. I'm just careful with who I trust.

I love people, right?

So, why do I feel so empty away from the people who actually care for me?

I went to the bathroom and washed my face as more death metal drowned out the veins of my room.

I'd probably be absolutely nowhere without my music just like 98% of the teenage population.

I brushed my soft black hair behind my ears and ignored my red eyes in the mirror.

My hair reached past my ears, something I shared with mother although I'd never met her.

African Americans mostly always had brown eyes which I had too.

My nose seemed to be a combination of mom and dad. A small bridge, but just long enough to be considered “cute”.

I also had a bit of Irish in my veins which made my height about 5'4”.

I liked the way I looked.

I got back out to my room. Uncle Trevor had upholstered it with all my favorite band posters: Suicide Silence, 30 Seconds To Mars, Paramore, Killswitch Engage, and the list just goes on and on.

My old school may have had those few good friends I could always depend on, but everyone else there tended to judge you.

My musical taste exemplified that, because it wasn't the usual rap and hip hop filling the iPods of the other kids.

Here, it seemed to be strangely along the same lines. Only just a different issues, one that I didn't exactly know yet.

I checked the clock on my nightstand and it was after 7.

I decided to finally open my door after changing my clothes, some skinny jeans and a band tee shirt was all I wore.

I made it down the draping stairs to the main living room.

I sometimes still couldn't believe Uncle Trevor and Aunt Meg had so much money which was why they were able to afford living in this neighborhood and paying for me to go to this prep school.

If I hadn't have switched my internal thinking for a small second, I wouldn't have noticed the man in our living room.

“Um hi?” I greeted meekly.

The man was one dressed in all black and Doc Marten boots. He seemed to be in his late 30's with smooth light skin and light caramel eyes. He was lean as well and very tall.

“Hi, my name is Lion Brown.”

I smiled. “Lion, that's a cool name. I love it.”

The man smiled back. “Thanks. Your name?”

“Jasmine.” I took a long pause before letting out a small giggle.

“What's funny?”

“Nothing. I just don't give out my last name much. Sorry.”

He shook his head. “It's fine. When I was your age, I had all kinds of weird traditions.”

“So, you're eating dinner with us?”

“Yeah, your aunt invited me over since I'm new at her job. Actually, I have two sons. They may go to your school. We're new in town.”

My eyebrows raised. If his kids were as cool as him, maybe we could be friends.

“Really? How old are they?”

“16 and 5. Ryant and Max.”

Cool names.

Did I mention our prep school had a middle school and elementary branch practically down the street?

It did.

Aunt Meg came through the door frame beside the fireplace.

Aunt Meg was honestly a nice lady as well. She had pale skin and dimple that sunk into her cheeks almost naturally. She wore a lot of soft yellows, today it was a sun dress.

Her hair was this brilliant color of red that you usually see in the commercials, but hers was natural.

“Aw, I'm glad you're feeling better Jasmine. And I see you meet Lion. Do you want to eat dinner with us Jasmine?”

My eyebrows cringed together. Was she asking me out of consideration to my psycho breakdown in my room or because I wasn't supposed to be invited?

“Um, if it's okay... I guess I can join.”

Aunt Meg smiled sweetly and put her hand against my elbow.

She led us into the dining room. One of dark, dark wooden floors, kitchen to the left of it, another fireplace to the right, and Italian glass doors just past the table that led to the back deck and everything.

Now the air past those glass doors were pitch black.

The table was set in cream cloth and such. Aunt Meg did sort of fit the classic housewife image, even though Trevor offered to help a lot.

Speaking of Uncle Trevor, he wasn't here.

“Meg, where's Uncle Trevor?”

“Oh, he just had something to handle out at the office? He'll be there til the end of the week I believe. Some huge meeting of some sort with head honchos and everything.”
I nodded, not sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

I sat to my usual seat which faced the glass doors and Lion sat directly in front of me. Aunt Meg sat to the head of the table to my right.

Aunt Meg forced us to hold hands and say a prayer to God, which I didn't repeat. I noticed that Lion barely murmured it, as if out of household courtesy.

Within minutes, the wine had been poured to their glasses and I had a nice share of sparkling apple cider.

Aunt Meg shared out the lamb and the usual adult conversation went on.

“Wow, what an amazing story. You moved all the way here from Missouri?”

Lion nodded and smiled to me graciously. “Yeah, after my wife left, I just couldn't stand living there anymore and my kids agreed they'd go wherever I went. The custody battle took a while though. So, the move's been long overdue.”

“You divorced your wife?” I came in.

Aunt Meg's lips tightened, I bet she was thinking the topic should preferably voluntary on Lion's part to speak of. She was all about manners.

“Yeah, it seems to be happening a lot these days.” he spoke. “Are your parents still together?”

My cheeks hit a block of heat. Adults didn't usually care enough to ask questions like that.

“Um, it's complicated with them. They don't live together. They're not together. It's easiest to say they're separated. They don't make it easy to be around either one of them.”

“I'm sorry about that.”

I laughed then, something I always tended to do. “It's okay. I'm here now, right? That's all that matters.”

Lion seemed to be itching for more out of me. “Are you happy?”

That's when the air seemed to freeze. Aunt Meg zoned in on my expression. Lion's eyes seemed to be smoldering over the few candles at the table.

“Um, what?” I choked.

“Are you happy?”

“What's the question?” I repeated.

“Are you happy?”

I gave a half sad smile back. “It depends on the answer you want. Do you want an honest answer or the answer everyone expects?”

“You choose.”

I looked to Aunt Meg, whose eyes seemed to have softened as well.

“Well, I'm at a new school with a bunch of idiots. So...”

“Is that your answer?”

I snickered. “I'm not even sure I have an answer to that question. It's complicated.... Can that be my answer?”

Lion smiled. “Sure. Whatever feels the most honest.”

And that was how dinner went on, small talk and those few moments of realness.

I guess I liked this guy, Lion.

Maybe his sons would be nice too.