Pet Sematary

#1

The room was pink in colour. Pink carpet, pink blankets, pink accessories. Jasmine looked around, away from the set of drawers behind her and at the bed. It was large and grand, the type of bed you would expect a royal to sleep in. White sheets coming from the top. Giant stuffed animals in front of the pillows. Some sort of… scented stuff. Honestly, the smell of it was awful. Made her gag, almost made her throw up. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to be in here any longer. Not because she’d get caught - honestly that was something she wanted to happen - but because this place genuinely, truly disgusted her.

So she turned. So she began to take her steps out the room.

Then:

“Jazzy?”

She was in the doorway, ratty brown hair in some sort of stupid style. Dressed up in… whatever she was wearing. It seemed as if the princess had just entered her castle.

Time to have some fun.

“Me,” Jasmine replied.

“W-what are you doing in my room?”

“Oh, nothing. Just looking for something.”

“Um, what exactly?”

Jasmine smiled. Brought out the book from behind her. The title read: Secret Diary of Primrose King.

And the moment her sister saw that, any part of her expression that could have been happy dropped. To a frown. To an expression in her eyes of absolute fear.

“Just a little thing I wanted to read,” Jasmine said.

“No,” Primrose said. “Nononononononono don’t open that Jazzy please don’t-”

And for a moment, Jasmine considered it. Was she being too mean? Was she going too far on her sister?

But then she heard Primrose speak.

And then she heard Primrose give her that nickname she fucking loathed.

But she still questioned it. Should she do it? Should she hurt her sister?

Do it.

Make her squirm.

Make her cry.

Make her bleed.

And in that moment, the biggest grin came across Jasmine’s face.

And in that moment, as she opened the diary right in front of her sister, she knew that Primrose was feeling the true meaning of fear.

((G25: Restart))

Imagine waking up on the ground in the middle of nowhere, with no clue in the world as to where you are and how you got there.

Imagine the memories slowly coming back, image by image, scene by scene. Imagine your question - where you are, why you’re here - being answered in excruciating detail, the answer being one that you never, ever wanted to get.

Imagine what that meant.

Imagine the fact that everything you’d worked for, every single thing you’d achieved in your whole life no longer meant anything now. You’ve been put into the worst game on the planet and you know from the bottom of your heart that there’s no way that you can get out.

And imagine the feeling that rises up within you.

The anger.

The fear.

The thing bulging up through your skin. Your muscles tensing up on themselves. Your throat ripping itself apart, telling you that you just want to scream and you just want to cry but you just can't. You know it won’t ever come out. You don’t know why, you don’t know why your body just doesn’t want to do it, but you know it's for the best. You know that you can’t show weakness. Not here. Not while the cameras - Saffron, your family, the whole world is watching you. You just have to stay here. You just have to hold yourself. Clutch your legs and hold them tight and don’t let anyone see you.

Jasmine wasn’t happy being like that, but for some reason, that made her feel slightly better about what this was. Where she was. This island, this beach, this game, she could put them to the vestiges of her mind. Act as if the sand against her clothing, the rock against her back was normal. Pretend as if she was at the beach, reading a book, ignoring the rest of her family in the background.

Yeah.

That was a nice vision.

It wasn’t great, it wasn’t ideal, but it was better than what this was, at any rate.

Yeah.

She smiled.

She could live there, for a bit.

She could-

”Man, are you really going to just sit around and do that whole pity party thing that everyone else is doing?”

The voice was both loud and soft at the same time. Loud and heavy. Coming from everywhere and nowhere. Was that-?

She looked up. Saw the beach, the sand stretching out for what looked like miles on end. Saw the rocks at the edge of her vision. Saw herself, blue and white shirt, staring right down into her eyes.

Jasmine could see her, leaning down at her. There and not there at the same time. Material and totally transparent. Jasmine knew this. Jasmine knew herself. This… she was like an imaginary friend, in a way. Always in her mind, always talking. Sometimes she could give it form, when nobody was watching. When she felt like having someone who knew her.

But she was here. Standing in front of her right now. She hadn’t thought of her, she hadn’t given her form, so why-?

”You’re, uh, sorta fucking losing it right now,” she said. “Not your fault, though.”

“Yeah,” Jasmine said. “I guess so.”

And she was right. It… wasn’t her fault. It was this place. It was the people she’d just seen. It as the sight of Mr. Dolph in front of her and oh god she just remembered that no no no no no no push it out grab your knees forget-

“Hey, hey, hey, sister,” the voice said. “Don’t do that, people are gonna see you. No way you want people to see you like, freaking and crying your heart out, right?”

“But-” She tried to, before her voice choked on itself. “There-” There wasn’t anyone else here. She couldn’t see them. The rock wall was behind her and there wasn’t anyone she could see so she was alone, right? She could cry. She could do all the things she wanted nobody else to see.

The voice didn’t speak. She just pointed up, slightly. Jasmine pushed her head. Moved it up.

Saw the lens of the camera on the rock face staring right back into her.

The only question to come by itself was: how had she not seen that?

And then the other questions came, all at once. Why hadn’t she noticed that? It was right above her, the person at the front had said that they’d be filmed so why didn’t she notice it? Why wouldn’t she think that it was there? Was she losing it? Was she going insane? No no no no no no she wasn’t but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help but notice the fact that she was losing it and somehow not notice the fucking camera. Was she stupid or something? Was she dumb not to notice that? She was she was and she knew that she was never going to reach her brother and she knew that she was never going to get that attention from her parents and no no no no no goddammit she was crying because she knew-

”Hey, stop that.”

And she did. She stopped. She didn’t know how she was able to but she did.

Why-

”I mean, like, this is what you wanted, right?”

No?

No no no no no this wasn’t what she wanted. Far from it. Did she want to die on this island? Did she want to be killed because of this game?

Did she want someone like Irene or Wendy or even fucking Michael to live while she died here?

No.

No she didn’t.

”I mean,” the voice said again, plopping itself down next to her. “You really think someone like them would win? You really think they can compare to you?”

“No.”

No, they wouldn’t.

No, they couldn’t.

“I don’t think they would,” she said, looking into the eyes of the voice.

“Atta girl.”

She giggled.

”And think about it, isn’t this the opportunity you’ve always wanted? The chance to prove you’re better?”

Was it?

Her… body said yes. Her thoughts were conflicted, but there was something inside her, a feeling on her skin that told her that yes, what the voice was saying was totally right. This was her chance, this was her time. She knew that she’d tried being the best before and she knew that barely anyone listened or noticed but she’d given up because of that but this was different. She knew that now.

If she lived, if she won this game, everyone would see it. Everyone would know that she was the best.

She smiled.

Yeah.

They would.

She saw the bag next to her now. G25 - King, Jasmine. That bag was hers. That bag would have her stuff inside it. Food, a weapon, she’d have it all. She undid the zipper. Looked inside.

Put her hand in, took it out, and let her teeth show a grin as she held the revolver up towards the sky.

”Heyyyyyyyyyy,” the voice said as it brought its hands around her. “You got something good.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And as she stood up, as she felt her back coarse itself against the rock behind her, she felt something rise up in her. A familiar feeling. One of the ones she loved to get. Whenever she won a competition, whenever she received an A for something she’d put her heart in, she’d feel something. Rising. Bulging. Feeling good as it tingled against her skin and made her feel that pure sense of ecstasy as she realized that yeah, she was good. She was better. Maybe her family didn’t know, maybe her classmates didn’t care, but she knew. She cared, and really, was there anything else that mattered? Anyone else?

No.

There wasn’t.

And she laughed, as she realized that. Let the air come from her stomach and let her voice be as loud as she could let it. It was the first time in a while. She’d giggled, every once and then, but she hadn’t felt anything come from her belly. She hadn’t had anything make her feel truly happy in a long time.

And, as the voice stood up with her, brought its arms around Jasmine, she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. It was funny. It was great. She was happy and that was good. The feelings of fear, the feeling of just wanting to cry? Those were gone. Pushed away. To be honest, she could barely even remember them at this point.

”So,” the voice said. ”Do you know what you’re doing now?”

“Yeah,” she said, as the voice brought its lips to her neck, as she felt everything and nothing at the same time. “I’ll show them.”

And in that moment, in that one point in time where Jasmine knew exactly what she was going to do, the biggest grin came across her face.

“I’ll show them all.”

((Jasmine King, continued in Under the Sycamore Trees))