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She falls asleep on the ride back, and is woken with a slight shake that rips her out of sleep with terror, half-expecting to see one of her parents smirking as she struggles to her feet, but instead sees Miss Walker, who ushers her out of the car and takes Danny to her room. Jazzy curls up on the floor nearby and goes back to sleep, mind untroubled for now.
Chapter 4: Narnia
Jazzy makes it back from school today with a little card tucked deep inside her pockets. She climbs off the bus, casts an anxious look around, checking for signs of her parents, and sees nothing to indicate that they're home. A tiny sigh of relief passes her lips in a puff, butterflies' flittering inside her stomach calming. She shudders lightly at a cool breeze that passes over her skin, rushing through her thin jacket and shirt as if they were gauze. The weather has become oddly cold for the beginning of March. Then again, with March came fierce winds.
She pulls open the door with some effort, though the door tries to slam itself shut before she can fully pass, crushing her body between the heavy metal of the door and the door frame. She cries out but manages to pry the door open again, slipping through before another particularly powerful wind can blow through. She lands on the floor hard. Her ribs burn, and she runs her hand along her chest, wincing quietly at the pulsating, hot pain that spreads from the contact.
She stumbles up the steps, limping badly, using the banister for support. Dragging herself up the steps is difficult, painful, and almost not worth it. The world shifts dizzyingly around her several times, nearly sending her tumbling down the stairs. She finally makes it though, and stumbles into her room, tripping on air, and landing on the ground. She closes her eyes and rests.
A few minutes later she pushes herself to her feet and carefully takes off her clothes. Her arms ache as she manipulates her pants carefully over her legs and she struggles to take off her shirt. Finally it comes off, though, and she dries small tears of pain. She looks in the mirror. Her small chest is covered in purple bruising from the heavy door's abrupt slam into her. The lock on the door had slammed into her back, and as she twists she can see blood streaming from the hole. Her head has a small trickle of blood welling up, dripping down her cheek. Her legs aren't too bad, but they do have a little bruising.
Jazzy carefully presses a washcloth against the bloody injuries, and hopes that the bruises go away soon. She sits still for a long time, waiting, waiting, waiting for the cloth to absorb most of the blood. It finally does, and she manages to redress herself. She curls up on her bed, pressing her head into the cool white pillow, letting her eyes drift closed again as she thinks.
The butterflies fill her stomach with nervous flitterings as she feels the card jabbing into her hip, crumbling. She tries not to think about it, but she can't throw away a report card. Even Mom and Dad know to look at those. She wonders where they are. She hopes they don't come back for a long time. Dread deepens as she rolls over carefully and pulls out the card. She gulps and a few tears struggle to reach the surface. She pushes the tears away from each other-tears are only bad if enough of them come together. The card says that she made As in every subject except history. She made a B+ for history. She shivers and thinks about the punishments she might get. She can't stop shaking as she panics, descending into a black-shadowed realm filled with nightmares. She knows that she won't be physically hurt. She may be locked in her room, Mom and Dad's favorite punishment. If they get locked in some place, they aren't interfering. No food is one way. Or maybe they'll do something to Danny. They might think he distracted her. She hopes not.
After a few minutes of lying there, terrified of consequences, she gets up and limps to the kitchen where she finds the remainder of the apples, too rotten to consume. She sighs and sneaks to the lab downstairs, hoping for food down there. There's a small box of fudge beside an experiment, lid knocked askew. She grabs a small piece, hoping it won't be noticed. She stumbles back up to her room and grabs The Magician's Nephew with a plan in mind.
She walks down the hall a short ways and stops outside Danny's room, where he has once again enclosed himself. She settles against it quietly and says, "Little brother? I've got something for you."
No answer at first. It isn't very surprising, though.
A small voice finally answers her. "What is it?" Danny whispers through the door.
She breaks the fudge in half and rolls both pieces into small balls. She places one on her palm and slides it through the door. "Fudge, Danny. I got it from the lab." The piece of candy disappears from her hand and she lets out a small smile. "Do you want me to read to you?" She asks. No answer. She waits longer, but after long enough waiting, she decides to begin.
She starts softly.
Chapter One: The Wrong Door
This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child. It is a very important story because it shows how all the comings and goings between our own world and the land of Narnia first began.
Danny never objects, just listens, or so she assumes.
…
That evening, Jazzy's voice is horse, but she feels less nervous, at least until she hears a familiar, dreaded sound downstairs. The door opens and slams shut. Heavy steps pound through the house and angry yelling fills it with echoes of fury. Dad is in a bad mood, but Mom is the one who cares about grades, so right now it's most important that Mom feels okay. She doesn't want to go downstairs, into a war zone. She hopes everything still looks okay to them.
Finally, Dad bellows up the stairs, "Jasmine, get down here and show your mother your report card. The calendar says it came in today."
Jazzy jerks to her feet like a marionette, guided by the strings her father's commands manipulate. She stumbles down the stairs again, slowly, joints aching from the door's slam and from being still so long. Her breaths come in sharp, shallow gasps, unable to prevent herself from mild hyperventilation. Her brain knows punishment won't be harsh for her, but her body seems to disobey her brain and shakes with the memories of punishments that were used on Danny, or punishments she's dreamed of.
She arrives at the bottom of the stairs, tucks her hands into her pockets, and struggles to follow the rules. Don't stand out. She tries to blend in with the floor and wall so she never gets seen again. It takes practice, and it doesn't work when your parents are specifically looking for you. Her mind draws up all the excuses she can imagine. Anything that means she won't get punished.
She comes to a halt about ten feet from her parents. A safe distance. She can't get hit, though they could easily throw something. She might have space to dodge at this distance, though.
"Hi, Dad and Mom," she mumbles, struggling to follow their every mood. She doesn't want them to hit her.
"Where is your card, Jasmine?" A second. "You didn't clean the countertops, young lady." Maddie's words are easy to identify as potentially threatening. Maddie's stance is one, not of worry, but of anger, tense, prickly anger that bristles around them with s tension that tightens Jazzy's throat with anxiety.
Slowly, cautiously, obediently, Jazzy dips her hand into her pocket and pulls out the report card. Her stomach begins to churn and she shakes all over again. Maddie's hand clamps around the card and snatches it from Jazzy's grasp. She trembles even more as her mother glances at the paper and says, "You should take better care of paper, Jasmine. If you tear this, I don't want to have to go to school to get a new one." The paper makes crumbly sounds as she twists it open. "What's this? A B in history?" Her mother looks up, pinning Jazzy to the spot with a steely gaze.
Jazzy wants to cry. She mustn't cry, though.
"Why aren't you making As, Jasmine? You're our daughter. You shouldn't make anything less than straight As. We raised you better than this, and now you go and disappoint us." Maddie's tone is angry. The words ring inside Jazzy's head, and she fights to come up with a reason. "Has Daniel been distracting you?"
She manages to shake her head.
"Then why are you shaming us with such low grades?"
Jazzy flinches violently, but knows she has to answer. She says the only thing she can say. "It's m-my fault, Mom. I didn't study hard enough. I'm sorry." Her breath is coming in gasps between words and her teeth won't stop chattering.
"So it is your fault. Why?"
"B-b-because I was doing other stuff. I w-was trying to r-r-read."
"That's your punishment, then, Jasmine. No reading, and no food until tomorrow. Come." Jazzy doesn't need the glare that accompanies the command to obey. She follows her mother into the bathroom, where her mother locks the door and leaves her.
This chapter is finished, and the entire story has one chapter left to update. How do you like this chapter? The entire story? The final chapter will be up by Sunday if all goes well. Remember to review! I'm afraid this one didn't turn out well. It was hard to get into writing mode.
-MiaulinK