Becoming Jasmine Star 7 A Day To Remember Pt.1

My phone dinged again around twelve this morning, as I lied in bed trying to find sleep. The sound annoys me and I dig deeper into the fuzzy blankets. It's been so long since I slept that I can't comprehend my own thoughts. Even shutting my eyes makes me feel dizzy like I'm floating in s.p.a.ce, instead of lazing in my bed.

It looked like tonight would be one of those nights.

I find the strength to get out of bed as I slump over to the bathroom.

I'm greeted by a miserable looking man, he looks mid-thirties, only I know he's actually in his twenties.

His eyes glint with mockery as he looks me up and down.

His hair is dull, and bags formed under his eyes. his skin, which used to be a healthy tan is ashen, and it didn't help that I couldn't remember the last time I washed the pajamas I was wearing

In short, I looked a hot mess.

I became self-conscious under his scrutinizing gaze and quickly recalled my mission.

I open the mirror and grab the medicine bottle. It's deep green eyes stared back at me, and I try to ignore the idiocy of this whole ordeal.

Cap off.

Cup on counter.

As I pour the syrupy liquid for the fifth time this week.

I am beyond hesitation, and I down the whole thing in one gulp.

Hopefully, sleep is now on its way.

I slip out of the bathroom, making sure I don't look at the mirror as I do and head back to bed.

Admittedly, what I did was not the wisest thing I could've done. I didn't tell Dr. Mel about my insomnia, but it doesn't matter, I can handle it on my own.

As I wait for the sleep to kick in my phone buzzes for the second time.

This time, instead of ignoring it, I find my hand reaching out for it.

12:34 a.m.

"003 cool things."

"h.e.l.lo again! I was just about to go to bed when I realized I didn't send you my top three things! I hope that you didn't wait long. So here it goes! My favorite color is periwinkle, I love snow the way it flutters around at night makes me feel good, reading manhwa (I could recommend you some if you like), I love the way words sound, etymology and the way people speak really interests me.

Anyway, these are my three!

Cheers!"

The whole message was rather excessive. It was written as if it was rambled on about in one breath. The pure energy coming from just those few sentences alone was enough to make me wonder if this person knew what time it was. After all, it was the second time they sent me something like this. Both times in crazy hours of the morning.

Who was this person anyway?

I felt a bit of curiosity being sowed in my mind as soon as I thought the question.

What did they expect me to say after receiving something like this?

"003 cool things."

What were they again?

"Periwinkle"

"Snow"

and "words."

I reread them. Periwinkle is a shade of blue, right?

I do a quick search of the color.

The pictures that come up have a slight calming effect too them.

"Is that why they like it?"

Suddenly, I'm trying to remember what my favorite color was.

What were my three favorite things?

In the past, this question would've been rather obvious.

But now...

What even makes something "ones favorite"? What comes to mind is the sight of her pulling her long dark toffee hair into a ponytail.

The way she watered the plants' first thing right after waking up.

The fact that she liked Sudoku puzzles which I'm not skilled in at all.

In fact, all the things she loved turned into my favorite things as well.

I write all these things as I think them. When I finished, I realized this was probably not what this person wanted to see.

This could go for some editing.

***

I woke up to the dark azure sky falling from my window onto the dark wood floor.

I had fallen asleep, no doubt thanks to the medicine,

my eyes felt well rested, and my mind was clear, as I watched the room turn from night to morning, as I did, my eyes fell upon a south facing window sill holding an array of potted plants.

My eyes combed through them with their newly found alertness.

The plants, all dead and wilted.

I didn't even notice when they got to this state.

A part of me wanted to go over and water them, just as Jasmine did, right after she got up. The other part of me knew that they were beyond my expertise.

Though I did like them, it wasn't the same reason she did.

I found myself getting up and going over to them.
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They were all brown and withered in there lively colored pots.

My heart gripped at the sight of them.

I couldn't even keep some herbs alive.

My hand reaches out and caresses one of the light brown leaves.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't take care of you as she did."

They don't respond. Of course they didn't, duh.

I was about to turn around and wander back to bed when a sharp green leaf in the corner catches my attention.

It was a stocky sort of plant. Its leaves looked more like spears, and unlike the rest of the pots, it did not have any vivid colors.

But it was still green.

Grey stones guarded the base of the plant as it continued to stand tall.

I have no idea how it survived without Jasmine taking care of it.

The little aloe vera plant definitely has seen better days, but I wasn't mad at it for being a little worn and dusty.

It's been left alone for G.o.d knows how long.

I look around for the watering can.

Found it.

The water was evaporated, leaving a strange pattern on the inside. I gingerly pick up the plant and bring it to the sink.

I grab the hose and give the little plant the water it hasn't felt in months.