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A Bullet Sounds the Same in Every Language

Jasmine sat there, muttering profanities to herself as she covered up her blackened eye with some liquid base. “Damn… why me?” She stopped and looked down, knowing she shouldn’t think like that. Although she was far from fortunate, her life could be worse.

Every teenager supposedly had the same feelings.

“Am I wearing too much make up?”
“Am I not wearing enough make up?”
“Does the hottie over there like me, too?”
“Does this outfit match?”

Jasmine however, had other things to worry about.

“Are there any bruises showing?”
“Did the neighbors hear the fight last night?”
“Will dad ever come back?”
“Will the confusion and pain ever stop?”

She looked at her clock. 7:46 AM. A few more minutes, then she’d be out the door. She looked into the small mirror hanging on her wall. She was a decently pretty girl. Her smooth face shone brightly out in the sunlight. Her pale skin complimented her icy blue eyes, which so rarely ever showed any happy emotions. She looked down. Her hips were slightly curvy, but not enough to make her look like a slut, which most boys liked about the girls she went to school with.

She looked back at the clock. 7:49. She should be going. She picked up a tattered green backpack and sprinted out her bedroom door, hoping to avoid her stepfather. Too late. He was waiting for her, blocking the door that led to freedom.

“Why the hell aren’t you gone?”

“Tony, I’m sorry… I was getting ready for school!”

“The hell you were!” he yelled, throwing his fist at her.

She ducked, looking like she was going to cry, her auburn hair slightly frizzy. “Please let me go! I’m going to be late!”

He glared. “Just wait until later. And it’s Sir, not Tony, you filthy skank.”

She gave a slight nod, muttering a barely audible, “Yes, Sir,” before walking out and down the stairs, leaving her small apartment behind.

She always loved walking to school. It was a quiet and peaceful journey that she wished would last forever. She bathed in sunlight and took in all the scenery.

Jasmine always took a quiet path through a small nearby forest that led to the back of her school. Very few, if any people knew about this path. She looked down at her watch. 7:54. Perfect. Almost an hour before she had to be to her first class.

She finally reached the back of the school at 8:00.

“Forty-five minutes until class starts… perfect!” She smirked and snuck into the cafeteria, stealing a small sandwich saved from the day before. After leaving the cafeteria, she walked to her locker and took a bite of the sandwich. “Eh… slightly stale, but hey, it’s better than that crap Tony tries to feed me.” She paused. “IF he remembers to feed me…” She flung the sandwich into her locker as she heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, Jazz!”

Her heart caught in her throat. It was Mark, the one person who she seemed to have a semi-decent relationship with. The one she had dreams about. The one she wanted to…

“Hey, Jazz? Are you alright? You’re here early and paler than usual!”

She stopped, smiling and turned around.

“Oh, I’m fine. I just wanted to have some quiet time before classes started.”

He gave a slight wink and threw his arm over her shoulder.

“Mind if I butt in on your quiet time?”

She blushed furiously, surprised he didn’t notice.

“Of course not, I really—" She stopped herself.

“Really what?”

She looked up.

“Uhh… really like the idea of not being alone before school,” she silently lied, hating herself for her lack of courage.

Jasmine and Mark walked and talked for a while, and then she saw the one person she hated most. Gail walked up to Mark and pulled him off of Jasmine, flinging him into a locker and passionately kissing him. Jazz watched in horror as Mark slowly ran his hands down her back, then down to her butt, where they held a firm grip on Gail.

Jasmine looked away awkwardly, wishing for them to stop. Gail pulled away and looked at her. Alright, so Jasmine didn’t hate Gail, she just wanted Mark as more than a friend…

“Hey, Jazz!”

Go to hell, you good for nothing whore.

“Heya, Gail. How’s it going?”

“Oh, I’m alright I guess… what about you?”

******** off…

“Oh, I’m alright, I guess. Just a little tired.”

“Aww, sorry to hear that.”

The bell rang.

My savior…

“Well, Gail, Mark; it was nice talking, but I’m off to class.”

They gave a slight nod and walked off, each giving a small wave. For some odd reason, Jasmine wanted to cry. She wanted to rip Gail’s throat out and hold Mark. No, she wanted to do more than hold him, she wanted to claim him as her own; she wanted to set her territory.

She entered class without a minute to spare and began daydreaming. As scenes of her and Mark together, sharing passionate moments she only dared go into full detail in the privacy of her room sped by, the teacher was giving a review on the Pythagorean Theorem. Old basic geometry…

“Jasmine?”

Uh-oh… what was she talking about?!

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Could you please define what the Pythagorean Theorem is?”

Pfft, easy.

“A squared plus B squared is equal to C squared.”

“Hmm… alright, just be sure to pay attention form now on…”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The day passed slowly, but surely, each class was the same. Jasmine would dream about Mark, about to reach the climax of her dream, when a teacher would butt in.

Damn, I wish they’d leave me alone…

Jasmine walked home from school, taking the main street to save time. She could make it home before her mom or step dad and avoid any unnecessary questions or actions. She cringed as her mind slid over the word ‘actions.’

“Hey, Jazz!”

Today is great…

She turned to face Mark. “Hey, Mark! What’s up?”

He gave a slight shrug, falling into step with her. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Just wondering if you wanted to hang out this Saturday?”

She looked down, hiding her blush. “When and where?”

Mark smiled. “I thought we could see a movie or something… on me.”

“I’d love to go, Mark.”

He smiled. “Good, because I’m breaking up with Gail. We can go back to your place and close the door and—"

“Jazz?”

She was snapped out of her trance. “Huh? Oh… I’ll see if I’m free.”

Well, duh, of course I’m going

“Hey, Jazz, can you wear a tank top?”

NO! You cannot see the cuts and bruises…

She gave a slight shrug, trying to seem casual. “Perhaps…” She then winked. “Depends on how I feel.”

Another smile, a wave, then he was off.

I bet if I hide for the next few days, I can make it without any bruises or cuts and lie about the ones that are healing…I fell down the stairs might work… Although that may be a little drastic…

Her stomach began to twist into knots when she couldn’t think of a good enough lie.

“Hey, Jazz? What happened to your arms?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mark. My step dad abuses me every chance he gets. Not to mention cutting makes the pain go away.”

“You psycho!”

She pushed those thoughts out of her head. She’ll have to keep away from any abuse. Whether it be Tony or herself. A difficult, yet not impossible, task.

She walked home in silence and then slipped into her room unnoticed.

As time went on, Jasmine grew bored of sitting there, doing nothing. She reached under her bed, pulling out a tattered CD player and putting in her only CD. “Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge” by My Chemical Romance. She had heard one of their songs on the radio and used the little money she had saved to buy a copy. She skipped ahead to track 13, singing along in her head as she leaned back into her worn out pillow, closing her eyes and relaxing.

Stay out of the light
Or the photographs that I gave you
You can say a prayer if you need to
Or just get in line and I'll grieve you
Can I meet you, alone
Another night and I'll see you
Another night and I'll be you
Some other way to continue
To hide my face

Tears slid down her face as she mixed the last few lyrics with thoughts of Mark. She would see him- and she would be pretty. Scratch that, she’d be gorgeous.

Another knife in my hands
A stain that never comes off the sheets
Clean me off
I'm so dirty babe
The kind of dirty where the water never cleans off the clothes
I keep a book of the names and those

Only goes so far 'til you bury them
So deep and down we go

Touched by angels, though I fall out of grace
I did it all so maybe I'd live this every day

She forgot about the tears and Mark as the second part of the upbeat chorus came on, this time she sang aloud, forgetting about her mom and step dad.

“Another knife in my hands
A stain that never comes off the sheets
Clean me off
I'm so dirty babe
It ain't the money and it sure as hell ain't just for the fame
It's for the bodies I claim and lose

Only goes so far 'til you bury them
So deep and down we go

Down

And down we go
And down we go
And down we go
And we all fall down

I tried
I tried

And we'll all dance alone to the tune of your death
We'll love again, we'll laugh again
And it's better off this way”

She yanked the headphones off and threw the CD player under her pillow, as her mom knocked and walked in.

“What were you singing to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to play tricks with me. I’m your mother, I know everything about you.”

Funny… You really don’t seem like one to know much about me. Do you know who I like? What my favourite band is? Do you even know what my middle name is?

“I promise I wasn’t singing, mom.”

“Whatever… you were lucky that Tony didn’t hear. Although I’m sure you do deserve some correcting, I’m not in the mood to be hassled by the neighbors.”

As soon as Jasmine’s mom walked out, she muttered a few scattered lyrics form her song.

“I gave you two shots to the back of the head…”

She started crying silently.

“And you’re dead…”

She stopped herself from reaching for her small wood jewelry box, where she kept a piece of sharp metal.

More tears.

“And I’ll dance to the tune of your death…”

She stopped, her breath short.

That’s not how the song goes. I don’t want my mom dead...

Realization struck.

I do want her dead… and that moron, Tony. I’ll happily take care of him… when the time is right… Until then I’ll put up with his s**t…

Fear began to gurgle in the pit of her stomach.

I’ll get caught… how stupid am I to even think I could get away with something this huge…

Pause. No voice in the back of her head was hassling her.

How twisted am I for even thinking that?

She had a fight with the voice in her head when she heard Tony come walking down the hall.

“Jasmine, you really are a worthless skank, just like Tony says. He’s right for wanting you gone”.

No, I’ m not. I’m brave… Mark loves me…

The voice gave a shrill, cold laugh.

“Brave? You’re brave by cutting yourself? You’re brave by not reporting Tony and your mother to the police? And a little FYI… Mark has suspicions about your cutting. That’s why he’s taking you out Saturday. He loves Gail and he’ll never love you.”

Shut up! SHUT UP! I am brave and Mark does love me.

“Fine, Princess. You keep telling yourself that, but I’ll be back, you can count on that.”

Tony barged into her room and threw down a small paper plate with a cold hot dog on it.

“Dinner. Eat up.”

Jasmine sighed, the last of the conversation finally leaving her head.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Tony gave Jasmine his infamous smirk, the one that made her want to punch him in the face. He walked out and she punched her mattress, nearly breaking her hand.

“Right… forgot… thing has no springs… only a solid wooden frame… blast…”

She walked into the bathroom and filled the sink up with warm water. She let her hand sit in it for a minute so it would loosen up. Fifteens minutes later, she was walking back to her room, where she ate her cold, stale hot dog in peace.



Days passed and eventually Saturday morning came. Jasmine was up and in the shower bright and early. She spent about an hour and a half making herself presentable. Her arms were covered in faded scars, barely noticeable unless looked at closely. It was noon. Mark would be there in an hour to take her to the local theatre. They were going to see some movie, she didn’t care which. She walked into her room, her eyeliner and hair styled perfectly as she slipped into some underwear and a bra. She searched through her closet, humming a small tune to herself and pulled out a pair of old faded blue jeans. Ripped at the knees from falls, worn form being washed so much, but they were comfy and she thought they looked decent.
She continued to search through her closet and eventually pulled out a shirt she wore if her parents ever decided to take her out for dinner. It was a light orange, which complimented her auburn hair. It was also old enough that an inch of her hips and stomach could be seen. She smiled, looking herself over as she slipped on her white sneakers. In thirty minutes, Mark would be meeting her at the school.
She headed out, stealthily avoiding Tony and her mother as she went to the school. She was 20 minutes early, but she didn’t mind. She sat down on a low wall and began to hum “You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison.” Minutes passed and Mark came walking up. Jasmine’s breath caught in her throat as she heard Mark’s light footsteps come up behind her. She turned and smiled as he winked and quickly scanned her exposed skin.

“I told you he was going to search for any marks. Voice: 1. Jasmine: 0.”

Shut up, shut up, now is NOT the time!

“Fine, I’ll let you enjoy this. I’ll be back for your beating tonight.”

She looked up, Mark was giving her an odd look.

“Jazz, you alright? You kinda spaced out on me for a sec…”

She smiled. “Sorry. So… shall we go?”

He smiled back, linking his arm with hers and nodded.

Holy s**t! This is so right… he’s actually going out with me and holding my arm…

The day passed in a blur. Mark held on to Jasmine the entire time they were together. They saw a movie, and all she cared about was the fact that Mark was still holding her arm. As the movie ended, he offered to walk around with her. They soon found themselves alone in a park.
“Mark?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks so much for everything today.” She gave a small smile as he wrapped his arm around her and winked, pulling her close. She couldn’t take it any more. She wanted him. She wanted him to know that. Now was not a good time for rational thought. She grabbed him and pushed him into a tree, kissing him furiously. He sat there in shock, but she didn’t care.
She was going to stop, not getting a response had hurt her. Bad. As she was pulling away, Mark reached up and gently placed his hand on the back of her head, gently rubbing it as he kissed back, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to enter. This carried on for some time before they pulled away. Kissing is great and all, but it’s kind of hard if one can’t breathe.
“That was… incredible.” Jasmine sighed happily.
Mark rested his forehead against hers. “So, I guess that means you’ve wanted to do it for some time now?” He smirked, already knowing the answer.
She looked down and blushed, nodding a little bit as he pulled her into a hug.
“I knew it.”
She looked up. “Wha—How--?”
He smirked again. “Just a feeling.”
“What about Gail?” He snapped his head down and looked at her, his eyes full of pain and longing.
“We broke it off. We thought it’d be best to be… acquaintances.” He heaved a heavy sigh before pulling Jasmine into another hug. “But it’s alright, I’ve got you now.”
She looked up smiling. “Really?”
Mark nodded and blushed a little. “Only if you want to, of course.” He was answered with a kiss. They took off, hand in hand together towards the school, where they would part ways and go home.

When Jasmine got home, her step dad looked up form the paper. "Where th' hell have ya been?" he asked with a slur. She sighed, knowing this wasn't going to end well.
She started to edge towards her door. "I was on a date."
Tony jumped up from his seat. "On a date? What kind of pathetic loser would want you? I bet he just wants an easy lay." He smirked, seeing the hurt look on Jasmine's face. When she went to reply, he smacked her across the face. "Just go to bed."
She ran into her room, closing and locking the door. She leaned against it, slowly falling down into a sitting position, tears sliding down her cheeks. She couldn't go on like this. If Tony didn’t kill her, then she'd probably kill herself.
Suicide is a touchy topic. Jasmine had always known that. She thought about it often, but never talked about it. Death… the only thing man has to look forward to. No one person is guaranteed a great life. But every living thing on this earth has something in common; mortality. Death unites every single breathing thing.
She slowly crawled over to her nightstand and pulled out a sharp piece of metal. She looked at it, gently tracing the sharp edge, occasionally scratching dried blood. She quickly slipped her pants off and looked down her smooth thigh. She was hurting inside. Why can't she see it? She slowly pulled the blade across the outside of her thigh.
She sighed with relief when she saw the blood, the reassurance that there really was pain. She can see it now, she knows it's there. She slowly, but surely, carved "Mark" into her thigh. When she was done, she pushed her pants up against the marks, drying it off a little. She smiled lightly.
"Such a pretty scar…" She gently traced the name with her fingers, flinching a little. She did it. She made a painting. She loved it. And it was all hers. She continued to apply pressure for a few more minutes until she was sure it had finished bleeding.

"Are you going to let him keep doing this to you?"
Her head snapped up. Oh, not you again…
"Aww, I'm hurt." The sarcasm was evident.
Oh, please. I don't need any of your sarcastic comments tonight. Please do us all a favor and go ******** yourself and die.
"You know, that's not very nice. I can help you do great things."
She scoffed. Like what? Teach me how to insult people?
"Oh, you're sharp. I wonder why you're failing English…"
Alright, alright, is there any reason you showed up, or was it just to make me more miserable than I already am?
"Actually, there was a reason. I just thought you should know that you should take care of Tony and your mother soon. They've got big plans for you."
Jasmine stopped and kneeled over, covering her ears with her hands as she forced her eyes closed. "Stop being paranoid. Stop talking to this stupid voice. Stop listening" she muttered furiously to herself, her breath coming in short gasps. Sweat was slowly dripping off of her face. She had to stop these voices. She had to stop them soon. She was going insane.
She quickly stood up, only to fall down again. She had forgotten about the new addition to her leg. She hissed in pain as she slowly pulled herself up once more and gently hopped over to her bed.