Chapter 108: Hope For a New Beginning

Jasmine’s POV

This garden is so vast, yet very beautiful. I have never been anywhere like this before.

I stand barefoot as soft petals crunch underneath my feet.

Where am I?

Is this the heaven everyone’s been talking about?

Everywhere is bright, and there’s a mountain at the far end, where the sun and moon sit together.

So I can’t tell if it’s night or day.

I just stand there, looking around, taking in the strange nature around me.

“Jasmine.” The voice I’ve dreaded to hear calls behind me, sweetly.

I don’t turn, afraid it’s not real.

Scared that I’m just imagining things.

“Jasmine, my baby.” She calls again, like the old times.

Why is she here?

This place was perfect until now.

Worse, I can’t control my movements, cause I’m turning around.

She stands there in a white, flowy dress.

No baby bump like in the last picture I saw of her, but the smile is still there.

“I love you.” She starts, but I just keep watching her.

Her features are the same, detailed, beautiful, and unscathed.

“I need you to forgive me, Jasmine.”

I can’t move my mouth to say anything.

Am I trapped in this body too?

“I have wronged you, and I deserve your hate.”

Her smile falls, a deep frown replacing it, before morphing into hurt.

“But for your own sake, you have to forgive and let go.”

My heartbeat grows louder, so much that I think it might burst out of my rib cage.

Why can’t I talk?

“Please.”

She reaches her hand out in front of me, but I hesitate to take it.

After some time, my hand moves, and I hold onto hers, the instant contact sending a sudden jolt through my body, and then, several flashes of memory.

The good memories.

The happy family.

The best mom.

Now I’m crying and smiling.

I cannot describe this emotion, but it feels like it might be my last time experiencing it.

When I open my eyes, I take in every line and wrinkle on her face, before it slowly starts to fade.

“Remember me.”

The words echo as her body bursts into flowers and fades away.

I fall to my knees and start crying, but the sound is muffled.

I watch as the wind carries the petals beyond the mountains.

“Remember me.”

The words ring again.

For the first time in a long time, I wake up happy, without Xavier sleeping next to me.

But more than happy, I feel relieved.

My chest feels empty and lighter.

And there’s this continuous voice reminding me to “paint,” so the very first thing I do is remove the cloth covering the piece I’ve been working on for the longest time in my life, and stare at it.

Art is truth.

Xavier’s words ring in my mind.

I shouldn’t be hiding this from the world.

This is my pain, yes, but it’s also my truth.

No matter how I try to fight it, it will forever be part of me.

I embody this pain and torment, but I don’t need it to define my current reality.

I take out one of my new brushes, the one Xavier gifted me, and dip it into black paint, before lightly stroking the huge canvas.

The skinny girl with the blurry face, crouched, is me, and every single stroke, every dark petal, signifies an encoded truth, but either way, it’s a truth.

This is the first time I don’t feel like crying while working on this.

Instead, I’m hopeful.

I can’t wait to be done with this, and present it at the final exhibition.

I also can’t wait to tell my story, the one they can’t see in the painting, not scared of being judged but proud that I’m creating awareness.

I’m no longer a victim, I am a survivor.

My phone rings, and my foster mom’s name flashes on the screen.

I’d better get used to calling her my mom.

I instantly pick up, expecting to hear her excited voice, but instead, I’m shocked to hear a young boy’s voice over the line.

“He… hello.” He stutters.

I haven’t spoken with Timothy before to recognize his voice, but everything points to it being him.

“Timothy?” I ask, to be extra sure.

“Yes.” He says softly.

“Is anything wrong?”

My heart skips several beats at the thought that something might have happened to my mom, and he had no other choice but to speak to me.

“No.”

Phew.

I let out a sigh.

A long silence passes between us, and I know I should be the one to break it.

I’m obviously the older one. Right?

But it would be rude to ask him why he was calling.

“Hello.” He says again, his voice very clear.

“Yes, Timothy. How are you?”

That’s good for a start.

“I… I’m fine. You?”

Is this what it feels like to talk to a sibling?

I didn’t bother to ask about his age, but I know he isn’t even ten.

“I am doing great.”

“I just wanted to…” he pauses, before whispering, “hear from you.”

I thought it was only Xavier who had the ability to make my stomach flutter, but I’m wrong.

“Thank you.”

“I can’t wait to meet you, sis.”

My insides melt into a puddle, and my chest tightens, but not painfully.

It feels full. Full of something new.

Full of something that’s yet to come.

My voice sounds way lighter than intended when I say, “Same, kiddo.”

The line pauses for a little while, before he mutters,

“Mom shared some chocolates, and I kept half of mine for you.”

Good Lord.

It takes my stained cheeks to make me realize I’ve been crying.

“Thank you.”

I should refuse it, and tell him to keep it since it’s his, but I can’t reject my very first gift from a sibling.

I’ll be selfish about this.

“When will you come?”

“Very soon.”

“Timothy, what are you doing with my phone? Do you have a secret crush now?” My mom’s voice sounds in the distance, and I giggle.

“Let me see that.” She says again.

“Bye.” Timothy says hurriedly, before ending the call.

I’m sure my mom will call again just to hear what he said, but for now, I can’t help the feeling of satisfaction that settles within me.

Other than that, the feeling I woke up with envelops me again.

It feels like a new beginning.

Hope.

It’s the only word that defines this.