11: The Jasmine, remastered

**Jasmine**

The air outside was warm and left a slight sweet taste in my mouth as I took in a long, deep breath. I always loved standing outside in the fresh spring air here, especially with the beautiful apple blossoms out in full bloom.
"Quinn, your shakes are done!" I heard the voice of my colleague inside. Her name was Macy, and her milkshakes were literally life-changing. I had already convinced her to make me about three throughout the day. I gave a little stretch of my arms, slightly lifting my red uniform dress up, and then strolled along to the counter to hand over the milkshakes to the family who had ordered them. It had taken me a while to get used to people calling me "Quinn" since the last name I was known by was Gabby and before that Fiona, and before that, well, now I no longer remembered. But I was glad that I now responded to it more naturally. Getting used to new names was always difficult in the beginning.
"Here are your shakes," I said with a smile. I then walked back to the counter to place the tray on the table, when suddenly I felt a hand slap my butt. Immediately the tray fell from my hand, and I snapped my head to the person bold enough to dare touch me. He was a lean young man, blond hair, green eyes, probably a university senior. He had a sickening smirk on his face and winked at me.
"Nice ass."
It was then that the entire staff of *Darling Diner* fell completely silent. Even Macy, who, before, had her brown eyes fixated on the burger she was flame-grilling, now had them turned to me.
Slowly, I reached my hand out, grabbed the man by the collar, picked him up and placed my hand on his butt with such force that it sent him flying into the tables and chairs in front of him.
"I thought you’d all have learnt by now, bad boys get spanked." I said dusting my hands off onto my apron and then getting a bottle of sanitizer which I squeezed into my hands.
Yes, it was a miserably mundane Monday morning and as such, I was called into the manager's office after my little 'dispute'.

"Quinn, you need to get your anger under control. This is the fourth customer you've attacked in a month now. I understand that some of our customers are inappropriate, but would you mind trying to resolve these situations in a less violent way?"
I really couldn't help but give in to the added constant aggression of my werewolf side, but agreed, nonetheless, not wanting the tiny Mr Nathaniel to lose anymore hair on his almost-bare grey head.
"Good. Now, as punishment I want you to wash the dishes for the rest of the day. The man you just assaulted demanded I punish you or else he'd press charges."
Press charges? I was the one who was supposed to press charges for assault. Nonetheless, I agreed once more. I could not have an incident with the police. Already I’d gotten on their bad side far too many times for my liking.
Once I was done with my little chat with Mr Nathaniel, I handed my apron to Hannah who now actually had to get up off of her chair, put her magazine down and do some work. She sighed and took the apron from me and thereafter got to wiping down the surfaces of the tables in the diner. Macy chuckled as I stepped into the kitchen, making her blonde hair, which was tied into a neat bun, bounce on her head.
"That was epic!" She said tossing a burger.
"Yeah, well the stupid customer didn't think so. Apparently, the customer *is* always right, go figure."
She now turned towards me with a smirk and held up her spatula. "When has that ever stopped you from proving the exact opposite?"
I returned her smirk and then got to work on the dishes. I had gotten ten dishes practically spotless when suddenly I heard the ring of the bell as the front door opened, and I smelled her. Rose water, freshly brewed coffee and a hint of sweat. Just as I remembered.
"Hannah!" I yelled as I continued meticulously scrubbing the dirty plate in my hands. She answered with a tired, "What?"
"The woman who just entered, take her order, but let me bring her the food okay?"
Hannah, much too tired for any real work, just shrugged. It was not too long before Macy, who had heard the instruction as well, informed me that the order- a burger and some fries with a cup of coffee- was ready. I quickly dried my hands off with a drying cloth, grabbed a tray to which I quickly attached on top of it a note tucked in my bra and then proceeded to place the plate of food on top of it, followed by the coffee and then a few serviettes.
"Hannah, on second thought, I need the bathroom. Could you please take this order for me?" I didn't even wait for her response before bolting to the staff bathroom. I waited in there for a few minutes before exiting and getting back to the dishes. Once the woman had left, Hannah brought the tray to the counter, which I immediately attended to, taking the cup, plate and then slipping the note back into my bra for safekeeping.
"You good there?" Macy asked when she saw me fiddling with my bra strap.
"Yeah, just needed to adjust the straps." I said smiling and then taking the dishes to the sink. I really was not fond of the idea of people visiting me while I was at work, but during the week I had, had no time to arrange a different meeting place, and by the looks of it, this woman was desperate.

****

"Hey, you wanna go out to see a movie later?" Macy asked as she draped her bag over her arm and got ready to lock the door. Our day of working was over, and we were now getting ready to go home.
I gently declined her offer, saying I had plans to study later that night.
"Study? Is that seriously all you do Quinn?" She asked zipping her jacket closed. It was cooler now than it was earlier on, and the sun was close to setting, causing the sky to turn brilliant shades of dark purple, pink and deep orange.
"Your love life must be sad." Hannah said looking on her phone and still chewing a piece of gum while running her fingers through her curly brown hair.
This seemed to grab Macy's attention as she yelled out, "That's not possible! Quinn you're too smart and pretty to not have *someone* in your life, right?"
Pretty? It was the first time I had heard someone call me that. Quite frankly, I felt as though I was just as plain as always. In fact, I believed that I had gotten even plainer as the years passed me by.
"No, I uh, don't have anyone special in my life."
"Told ya." Uttered Hannah who smirked at being right.
"Do I need to punch you again, Hannah?" I asked. This made her really quiet. The opposite was true for Macy who still insisted on questioning my love life.
"Oh, come on Quinn, you can't tell me you've never had a 'special friend'."
If by 'special friend' she meant crazy, psychopathic mate, then yes, I had one of those. He kidnapped me and turned me into a werewolf two years ago, but obviously I could not tell her that. Humans, I had learned, were more inclined not to believe in things they could not explain by science or logic or their own definition of normal- which, in my opinion, did not actually exist.
"How about you, Macy, you have anyone special in your life?" I took the opportunity to avert the topic from me as I began to feel a tight tug in my chest at the mention of anything closely relating to intimate relationships. She shrugged and then gushed. Although it got on my nerves and irked me the way she was happy all of the time, it did sort of remind me that there were good, innocent people in this world.
"Well, there is this one guy. He asked me out on a date on Saturday."
Hannah scoffed at this, and I elbowed her and shot a stern look at her. Macy continued the story in a very detailed manner, I might add. Apparently, she had met this Greek God of a man over the weekend while she was out shopping. An old friend of hers, as I understood it. She further explained that it was like fate had brought them together once more. It was hard for me not to throw up at her recollection of the encounter which now seemed more to me like a fairy-tale than anything else. Which was why I was grateful when I saw my apartment in the distance.
"Well, I am going to love and leave you guys here. Have a good night!" I yelled and bolted for my apartment building.

***

"Hey there Quinn!" My neighbour smiled and waved as she exited the front entrance to the building. She was the great supermom Mrs Keane. Two kids, three jobs and a husband who was never home. She always smiled, but I could always sense more to it. Behind it was a sadness I wished I could someday help take away. But I was in no position to act too close to home at the moment, seeing as I had only moved here a month ago from my previous little town. So, I ignored the tears which she wanted to shed and said politely, "Hello Mrs Keane, how are you doing?"
She replied with her generic response, "I've had better days, but I am doing alright, thank you dear."
She smiled, but it never reached her saddened eyes. Someday I’d save her from it. Someday soon.
When I entered my warm, quaint little apartment, the delicious scent of strawberry baked cheesecake wafted into the air and immediately my stomach growled, and my mouth watered in delight. I had made it last night but had fallen asleep before I could even taste the pure sugary delight. Being a werewolf meant constantly being hot, angry, itchy, hairy, and worst of all, hungry. In total I could eat eleven meals a day, excluding snacks. In fact, there were more things about being a werewolf that I found annoying than actually helpful. In the beginning, however, it was much worse. I had no one to teach me anything and had to learn everything all by myself, like how to control shifting, how not to kill people-which failed the first two times- and lastly, how to control my anger. I still struggled with the last one.
After scoffing down my cheesecake and washing it down with a carton of milk, I sat on the couch and took out the note from my bra. I realised that I needed to find a new storage place, there was no way this was sanitary. The note read:
**Address: 13 Yvette Road, Grensdale.**
I estimated an approximate hour drive and roughly a twenty-minute run. Seeing as I actually did have to get some studying done tonight, it would be better to run there.
I spent a few more moments lazily lounging on the couch with my legs comfortably apart, my shirt now off and my feet bare and dangling around. I checked the clock and realized that I needed to get ready for my other “occupation”. This time, however, I would not be getting ready to meet a client. Instead, I was getting ready to meet my next victim.
The dress code I had made for myself was practically in the league of a Vixen with black lace lingerie, a choker and most importantly a fox mask, remastered with lace, courtesy of yours truly. I chose not to wear any make-up, except for blood red lipstick. Bold, bright and frightening. I then tied my dyed blonde hair into a tight bun and found myself irritated when I saw a few black roots beginning to stick out. This time I'd let them grow out a little because the bleach was beginning to damage my waist -length hair. After I was fully prepared appearance-wise, I stared in the mirror, smiled and said in a beastly voice and with red eyes taking over my blue ones, "I'd rather die free, than live captive."
Next was packing my bag. It was a small sports bag which I filled with essentials: rope, gloves, chloroform, a gag, knives, a lock pick, teargas canisters, my mask, and lastly, the gun. Perks about this apartment, was that there were no security guards to occasionally check through my things.
Once more I smiled to myself before saying for the last time, “I’d rather die free, than live a captive.”
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Yes! You read it right! it's been two years and Jasmine is badder than ever. Literally ecstatic for how this novel is turning out. Feel free to leave some comments, I'd love to know your thoughts!