Jasmine’s pale trembling fingers clutch a cartridge pen, shaking with fear and ferocity. If this were an act of her own free will she would never have chosen such an ancient tool, but force and obligation pressed her forward. Her hand begins to move, writing words and thoughts that were all lies. She didn’t want to write these words down, but she couldn’t stop her hand from moving across the canvas.
While Jasmine’s hand continues to move, she eyes the noose hanging from the barn door. It was waiting for her, calling to her with whispering moans of agony. It was waiting for her to slip her neck inside of it, and for her toes to give way over the edge of the wooden chair. It was waiting to tighten around her esophagus until she could no longer breath, like a boa constrictor that slowly squeezed the life out of things because that was its nature. Perhaps it would snap her neck and save her the agony of suffocation. Either way, its purpose was to give her death.
The last thing Jasmine wanted was to die. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to live. She wished desperately that she would have appreciated her life more, but it was too late for that now. She knew she had to die, because if she didn’t, many others would. Many others already have.
All this was happening because Jasmine made a fatal mistake. She awakened something evil. She fed it, encouraged it, provided for it, and was blind to its true purpose. Now it was festering inside of her like maggots slowly devouring a long-buried corpse. It was eating away at her insides, and making her do horrible things. After she was done with this one last task, she would destroy it. She would set herself free in the only way she could. She would end her life.