Chapter Twelve: Jasper's Journal (Molly Cassidy)

 

June, 2013

            Over the next two days, I transform twice more. I have no recollection of either occurrence, not even a dream, and that bothers me. Especially when I see the long, raised scars along Jaden's right arm and Christian's left leg.

            "Did I do that?" I demand. I am mortified.

            "You weren't yourself." Christian says. He reaches out a hand to ruffle my hair, but I recoil from his touch.            

            "Now you understand why we stayed away for so long, Molly." Jaden tells me gently.

            "I'm sorry." I say. I am so ashamed.

            "You have nothing to be sorry for." Christian touches my shoulder, and I lift my head and growl at him. I expect him to flinch, but he doesn't. His hand remains firm. I shake him off. I'm not interested in being comforted.

            He sighs.

            I cannot believe I just growled like some kind of feral animal, even if it's what I'm becoming. Still...My brothers learned to be civilized. They've retained their humanity. I tell myself that I can do the same. I can fight against my own instincts. I can be strong like them.

            "Molly, look at me." Jaden grasps my chin and forces my head to turn in his direction. I bite my tongue to keep from growling at him, too.

            "I know it doesn't seem natural, but it is. What you're going through is the same thing that Christian and I did. We know what you're feeling."  

            I want to scream at him that he doesn't know; that he's never hurt me. I hate that they are being so understanding. I want them to be as angry and disappointed with me as I am with myself. Their gentleness and forgiveness only increases my guilt.

...

            I am both saddened and relieved to leave the farmhouse and the memories it contains behind. I leave the copper coin Jasper gave me the night of our first date beneath my pillow. It may be my last tangible connection to Jasper, but I cannot hold onto it. That means holding onto him.

            But I cannot let him go entirely. On the second day, while my brothers sleep, I wander into his bedroom. The room around me sways, and I keep on hand on the wall for support. My whole body aches and my muscles burn like I've been running, even though all I've done is lay in my bed. My brothers have had to force soup down my throat. I can barely hold anything down. When Jaden suggested pancakes my mouth started to water, but when I tried to eat them...Well, the aftermath was quite unpleasant.

            Jasper's room is messy, and his bed is unmade. On it is an open journal with a pen. It's like it's all waiting for him to return, but he never will.

            I pick up the journal and read the passage. His handwriting is nearly illegible. It's dated March of this year; the day of our first date.

            Tonight I took Molly to the movies. I was so nervous to kiss her. I don't know why. I've kissed other girls before.

            I flush with jealousy. Jasper kissed other girls before me? Was what we shared not as sacred to him as it is to me? I read on.

            But Molly isn't other girls. She's...special. She's so innocent. She's everything that I'm not; good, and kind, and sweet. She is absolute beauty. I want to show her everything, but I'm afraid it will change her.

            I know I'm not a good person. Before my mother bit me and turned me into a werewolf, my friends and I would steal money from my father's wallet to pay for the drugs the other kids sell behind the school. On the night I was turned, my friends dared me to grab some booze from a local convenient store and run. They were waiting in a van. I did it, and I got away with it...Until I came home wasted and suddenly I was thrown into a world I never even knew existed.

            I flip to the next page.

            I convinced Molly to drug her brothers with sleeping pills so that we could sneak out to the movies. I don't like them, and I know the feeling is mutual, but I know what I did was wrong. I just wanted her so badly that I didn't care what I had to coarse her into doing. I guess I'm a lot better at being bad than being good.

            I can feel changes in myself the closer I grow to Molly, though. The way she looks at me with those gold flecked hazel eyes...Like I'm not a monster.

            I want to the person she sees when she looks at me. I want to be someone who deserves the love of Molly Danielle Cassidy.

            I feel a pang of sadness at Jasper thinking of himself as a monster.

            A wet spot blossoms on the paper, and then another and another. I reach up to wipe my eyes and realize that I'm crying.

            I flip through the journal and read parts of other passages.

            Tonight we caught fireflies. The look on Molly's face was one of pure ecstasy. The smile never left her face. She was captivated by the tiny, flashing insects. When I was young, it was a tradition that as soon as the fireflies emerged my father and I would catch them in jars and I'd use them as nightlights. I want to share all of my childhood traditions with Molly.  

            I turn to another page.

            Molly loves to ride Winter. She was so afraid of her at first, but now they've bonded. There's a trust there. When Molly is riding she lets go of her fears and uncertainties, and she is completely free. That is when I want her the most.

            I want to give her the world, but this is all that I have. Is it enough? For now it seems to be, but I have a feeling her appetite will become insatiable.

            What will happen if she discovers my secret? Will she still love me? Or will she run from me? The truth is I don't know, and that scares me more than anything.

            Another tear falls and I quickly turn the page. Jasper was always so confident it bordered on cocky. In his writings he is much more vulnerable. A part of me wishes I'd gotten to see this Jasper.

            Molly loves to take photographs with my camera. She's working on a collage for her bedroom which she intends to hang over her bed. I'm thinking about getting her a camera of her own for Christmas this year.

            I never did finish that collage...

            I wonder if she's ever had a Christmas? I'll make this year special for her. It will be nice celebrating the holidays with her. I can take her to see the fireworks on the fourth of July. She'll be amazed by them, and I'll watch her instead of the show.

            I picture her and her brothers at our table on Thanksgiving day, where we all say what we're grateful for, and I'll say her. Then Christmas...I'll teach her every song, and we'll decorate the tree. It will be...perfect.

            More tears splash onto the paper, blurring the ink. I don't know what fireworks or Thanksgiving or Christmas are. They must be some kind of celebrations. All that I know is that they are memories I will never have.

            The next entry is dated a few weeks later.

            I want to tell her that I love her. I've never said that to a girl before. I've been waiting to say them for such a long time, but now I don't know how.

            He never loved another girl. Despite myself, I smile a little.

            I think I'll do it in the loft where we lay together and stare up at the stars. It's our special place.

            It is. Or was.

            With a deep, steadying breath, I turn to the final passage.

            I have to kill her, not only to save the world, but to save her. Molly wouldn't want to be used to summon a demon that will destroy humanity.

            I'm doing this for her... But killing her just might kill me.

            At the very back of the journal is a photograph of Jasper and I. It was one I took of us. I'm staring at the camera with squinty eyes, and you can clearly see my blush. Jasper has his eyes closed and he's kissing my cheek. The rough white wood of the barn is blurry in the background.

            I sigh. I remove the photograph and close the journal. He documented our entire relationship. He was more enamored with me than I ever knew. He paid so much attention to the little details.

            I leave the journal where I found it, but take the photograph. I bend it in half and slid it into my pocket.

            I shiver. I think my fever has returned.

            "Molly?"

            I turn at the sound of Christian's soft voice beckoning to me.

            He's frowning at me.

            "What are you doing in here, baby girl?" He sounds worried. He furrows his brow.

            "I..." I have no explanation to give. I was searching for some connection to Jasper, but telling him that won't lessen his concern.

            He offers me his hand, and I accept it. He leads me back to my bed. I lie down and he tucks me in.

            I close my eyes. Who was Jasper Alan Cunningham? I thought I knew.

            He was the first boy I ever loved. He may be the only one that I ever do. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, was the beginning of all of this. He won't see the ending.

            My bed shifts as Christian sits down on it. I open my eyes and sit up. I look at him.

            He sighs. "I should never have brought you here." He's not looking at me. He's staring at the dresser, but his gaze is unfocused. His hands sit on his lap, clenched into fists.

            "I was happy here." I tell him. "And I would have learned the truth eventually. Who can say I wouldn't have been turned even if we hadn't come here?"

            I am slowly beginning to accept what I am becoming. I have to embrace it. What other choice do I have?

            My brother doesn't seem to be listening to a word I am saying. He's wallowing in his guilt. I wish he wouldn't blame himself for what's happened to me. I don't.

            "I'm sorry, Molly." He mumbles. "Jaden was right."

            "What?" I ask. "What was he right about?"

            Christian shakes his head.

            I reach out and place my hand atop one of his. His head snaps up.

            "Don't torture yourself, Christian." I plead with him.

            He forces a smile and ruffles my hair. "Get some sleep." He murmurs. He rises from my bed and leaves the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

            I sigh myself and I lay back down. I pull the photograph from my pocket and slide it beneath my pillow with the coin.

            My body trembles with a chill, but at the same time it feels like I'm being ravaged by a fire. I wish Christian had stayed with me. When he's near the pain doesn't feel quite so intense. I almost don't even notice it.

            I feel a hand carding through my tangled hair. I whimper.

            "Shh, baby girl, it's just me." Jaden's voice whispers.

            I relax. One of my brothers is here with me.

            As I fall asleep, I realize something, and it bothers me. Christian didn't make his promise. Every night he whispers to me that everything will be alright when I wake up. Tonight he didn't.

            Why? I wonder. Does he no longer believe in them? Do I? The truth is, I don't know.