I waited.
I waited a year, just like Jason told me to. Gramma Jo never hurt me again. She looked like she wanted to a couple times. But she didn't, and she never told me why. I spent Christmas, Easter, and my birthday with Gramma Jo. It seemed like the year would never end; and yet, it seemed to speed by, too.
The next thing I knew, it was the one year anniversary of Daddy's funeral. Gramma Jo got really drunk and started smoking her cigarettes in packs at a time. When I went to bed, she'd already smoked four whole packs.
After screaming myself awake, again, I walked into the living room. Gramma Jo was passed out, face down, on the floor. I sighed; I guess I have to wake her up. I walked over to her and shook her shoulder, "Gramma Jo, it's time to wake up!"
She didn't budge. "Gramma Jo!! Wake up!!" I screamed at her. Still no movement, she didn't even snore like usual. Hmmm…. I grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over. "AH!!" My voice shot an octave higher.
Gramma Jo's eyes and mouth were wide open and she looked pale. "Gramma Jo!?" Tears were flowing from my eyes as I ran to the phone and dialed the operator.
"Operator." said a kind, bored, voice.
"G-get me the police, p-please!"
"One moment."
I heard two more rings, then: "Sheriffs' office."
"I-I think that my grandma is dead! You have to help!"
"Okay, calm down. Where's the accident?"
"419 Reed Street."
"Okay, the police are on their way. Stay on the line with me, okay?"
I stayed on the line until the police and paramedics arrived. They pronounced her 'dead at the scene.' Apparently, she had a heart attack… too many cigarettes, probably.
Her funeral was a couple days later. It was like Déjà vu: I wore the same dress I'd worn at Daddy's funeral; I even stared at the closed casket like last time. But it was an incomplete Déjà vu because Jason didn't come.
I didn't move from my spot in front of the casket, not even when the minister got up to speak. I just stood there. No one wanted to move me anyway. Hmmm… I thought, Jason was right…. I only had to live with Gramma Jo for another year…. I never expected her to die though….
I was spiraling into a deeper and deeper, never ending depression. Not even the apology letter I got from Jason cheered me up. It read:
Dear Jasmine,
I'm so very, very sorry about missing your grandmothers' funeral. I begged my boss for the two days off, but he's stubborn and wouldn't let me. I'm a forest ranger, and it's one of our busiest seasons right now…
I'm SO sorry!! Please forgive me!
I love you,
Jason Richmond
Gramma Jo was my only other living relative after Daddy died. So I had nowhere to go now that she was gone, too. So I was forced into the foster care system.
It only took me a few weeks to get fostered into a nice family. My foster mom, Raven Swanson had long, curly, light blonde hair and hazel eyes. She was short for her age, she was only 29. Her husband, and my foster dad, Michael, had semi-short dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He was of average height for his age, he was 31. And I even had a foster sister, Cassie. She was older than me, but only by three years. She had medium length dark brown hair and dark amber eyes. She'd been living with the Swanson's for four years, when they got me.
I lived with them for a year before they adopted me. I loved them all very much, Cassie did pick on me a bit, but I got used to it. For the next five years I was very happy and peaceful.
But, those six years were, apparently, too much for one person to go carefree for.
One cool August morning Michael decided that the whole family should go on a trip to the Grand Canyon. We had to drive through the Colorado Rockies to get there. We were just driving along, singing to Domna Summer, when Michael must not have taken the curve right and we swerved off the road and rolled for what seemed like hours before the car stopped.
I got pretty banged up, but remained conscious. I looked around, concerned. I couldn't see Raven but I did see a leg caught on the dashboard and a whole through the severely cracked windshield. Michael's head was pressing against the glass and there was blood oozing from it. I turned and looked at Cassie and noticed her head and her right arm were hanging out the broken window; it looked like she was sleeping.
"Jasmine!? Are you okay, sweetie?" asked Jason. I expected him to ask—he always asked whenever I got hurt—so I didn't jump. There wasn't much room to jump, anyway.
"Yes, Jason, I'm all right."
"Are you sure? Can you move everything?"
I flexed my muscles to see, I was sore in my right leg and left arm and my head was pounding, but other than that I was fine, "I'm just sore, it's okay Jason."
"…Okay…" He still sounded concerned.
"Thank you so much for your concern, Jason. But I'm really fine, just sore and I'm only bleeding a little bit, nothing to worry about." I said in the most comforting voice I could manage.
Jason sighed, probably in defeat, "Okay… I believe you. I love you, Jasmine."
"I love you, too, Jason. You know that, silly!"
"Yes, I do." He sounded happy, and then he sighed, "The cops and an ambulance should be there in about three minutes, okay?"
"Okay." Jason could see the future for some reason, and it never failed to come true. "Jason?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
"Are you only going to talk to me if I'm hurt or in danger?" My voice sounded sad, even to me.
"I'm so sorry, sweetie, I've just been really busy. I have lots of work to do."
I was confused, "A voice has to work??"
"Yes. Of course a voice has to work." Jason laughed.
I just smiled; Jason's laugh was wonderful, it was ten times better than his chuckles. It was the best sound in my world, aside from his perfect voice…
"It sounds like the police are coming," Jason said, still chuckling, "I must go, but I will talk to you as soon as possible! Okay?"
I sighed; I didn't want him to go. But if he would talk to me again, I guess I could wait, "Okay, as long as you promise and don't break it."
"I promise. And I will never break any promises I make with you." He said this in such a soft, comforting, loving voice that I couldn't disagree with it.
"Okay. Thank you. I love you." I said, trying to match his tone.
"And I love you." I smiled, Jason was the best. I just wish he was real and not only a voice. He sighed, "Here come the cops. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay, I'll talk to you later."
"Goodbye, sweetie." His voice started to fade away.
I whispered: 'I love you' just before it disappeared completely.