Chapter Text
What can you say about leaving a place you loved?
Jasmine bites back the bitter feeling that forms in her as she packs up her leotards and old, worn pointe shoes. She zips up the bag, tossing it over her shoulder harder than she probably should to drown out the voice in her head, taunting her for packing these things when she’ll never be able to dance like she used to ever again.
The memories, all the experiences.
She takes a look around the room that was once hers, boxes pushed against walls that were once covered with posters and pictures, but now stood bare and beige. The posters that once held so much love and meaning to her, bringing her personality into her space, are now stuffed in a trash can. She knows deep down she could take them with her, too, but when her poster for a production of Giselle ripped as she was taking it down, she tore the rest down as well, shoving them into the bin. She wouldn’t tell her family she did that.
It can be heartbreaking.
Heartbreak. Jasmine mused over the word. Heartbreak that crushes your chest, that lights you on fire, that fills you with emotions that words can’t describe, heartbreak that consumes you until you’re standing face to face with it, a bitter acceptance overcoming you.
Jasmine thought she had experienced heartbreak before. She assumed the tears that pricked her eyes after a failed audition was heartbreak, but now she looks back, and envies that feeling. She would trade her current ache for those tears. She would trade her guilt, her loss, and her mourning for those tears.
Her grandmother was gone, her grandmother who always asked about her over the phone was gone, her grandmother who would watch her performances and comfort her with Oh sweetie, you did beautiful, I didn’t even notice whenever Jasmine was upset about a slip up was gone, and Jasmine didn’t know how to face that fact head on. She should’ve visited more, Jasmine thinks. She should’ve gone when she was invited to all those Thanksgivings, she should’ve swallowed her complex feelings on the holiday and she should’ve gone, she should’ve been with her more.
Jasmine bites her tongue at the thought, fists clenched by her side, shoulders rising and almost reaching her ears, all as her body became uncomfortably hot and her stomach lurched. With a shut of her eyes and a deep breath, she pushes the thought away, yet it still lingers in the back of her mind like the ringing in her ears. She turns her attention to her suitcase.
Until the excitement takes over.
Jasmine isn’t quite sure what she was feeling, she could dig through her mind full of thoughts and she still wouldn't find what she is feeling, she could sit and search and attempt to understand herself, and she still wouldn't find what she is searching for. Jasmine muses over the term excitement for a moment, then she carefully folds an old and worn shirt.
Because you soon realize you get to make new memories.
Memories, the word makes Jasmine smile, even if just a bit. Memories, moments in your life that are seared into your brain for some reason, moments in your life that may seem so small but end up so big. The ones you wish to stay with you fade, and the ones that you wish would fade stay.
The sun shining down on her, wind gently blowing her hair, her stomach twisting as she looked up at her father effortlessly lifting a truck. Even as her knees gave out from under her, she thought about what it would be like to soar amongst the stars like he can. That was just one of Jasmine’s memories, one that happened not too long ago so thinking about it stung like an open wound being touched, and yet it had seared itself into her mind.
Have new experiences.
Jasmine has faint memories of her and another brown haired girl laughing as the sun watched over them, memories from that summer in Smallville so long ago. Being together with her was easy, as if they could glance at each other and see their thoughts and memories, a connection that words couldn’t describe, a connection that formed over the summer and stayed. Jasmine remembered her name, Sarah, she remembered that name from all those summers ago.
According to Sarah, Smallville sucked. Jasmine wonders if she would feel the same there as she does here, if she would feel as if walls are slowly closing in on her, killing her by stealing her breath one by one. She wonders how trapped she would feel. With a shut of her eyes and a breath, she pushes the thought away, yet it still lingers in the background.
And best of all,
Jasmine zips her suitcase up with shaky hands. She takes a final look at the place that has guarded and nurtured her for so long, a place that was once full of love now stripped down to an empty, worn down state. The evidence of life is still ever present, splotches of paint and markings on the wall, stains from split drinks and failed science experiments on the floor, but now the room sits empty and quiet, unnervingly quiet.
Her space is now nearly devoid of her , the only thing left being her mere presence, and once she leaves, everything will be but a distant memory.
Jasmine isn’t sure who will be the next person to claim this room as theirs, but she silently prays that they feel as guarded by these walls as she once did, she hopes that they lay in bed with a soft smile on their face as everything else fades away, she prays they’re happy here.
Her space is now empty, and Jasmine wonders if she’ll be able to find her space in Smallville, if she’ll be able to feel guarded by those walls as well, she prays she’s happy there.
Fall in love all over again.
With a silent goodbye, Jasmine steps out of the room, never to turn back.