100 Story From A Past.



[Past Eric Luster POV.]

"Mngh," I groggily rubbed my eyes as I reluctantly climbed out of bed. The alarm had been blaring incessantly, and I swiftly silenced it. I made my way to the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, and began my morning routine, scrubbing away the remnants of sleep. A quick shower followed, invigorating my senses and preparing me for the day ahead.

In a rush, I picked out my clothes, determined not to be late for school. But before I left my room, I couldn't help but steal a glance at the shelf adorned with trophies.

"Man, I need just one more to fill that entire shelf," I mused with a grin. Martial arts had been my passion for as long as I could remember, and I had devoted countless hours to honing my skills. I even competed at the national level, proud of my accomplishments.

"Eric! Hurry up, you'll be late for school! Jasmine is already waiting downstairs," my mom's firm voice echoed through the house, urging me to move faster. With a burst of energy, I sprinted out of my room, excitement and anticipation filling my heart.

....

"Good morning!" I greeted cheerfully as I entered the living room, finding everyone already gathered there. My mom, dad, and Jasmine were all waiting, sharing warm smiles.

Yes, my parents knew about Jasmine and the special bond we shared. They were incredibly supportive of our relationship, which meant the world to us.

My dad, a journalist at a prestigious TV channel, and my mother, a dedicated housewife, were exceptional parents. They had always been there for me, despite my knack for getting into trouble. I loved them dearly, and I knew they felt the same.

"Eric, I swear if you make me late for school again, you owe me an ice cream treat," Jasmine pouted playfully, earning a giggle from my mom.

"Mom, can you believe she's extorting money from your own son?" I protested, feigning an offended expression.

"So what if she is? It's your own fault, don't blame Jasmine," my mom playfully scolded, embracing Jasmine affectionately. A smug expression danced on Jasmine's face, reveling in her victory.

She had become more like a daughter to my parents than I was a son. With a playful huff, I took my seat at the table and indulged in the delicious breakfast my mom had prepared. Although, between you and me, my dad was the true culinary master in the family. It was an unspoken truth because mentioning my mom's cooking skills often led to hurt feelings and sulking. They say my talent for sulking comes from my mom, and I couldn't deny the resemblance.

As I savored the meal, I couldn't help but feel immense gratitude for my loving family and the joy that Jasmine brought into my life. It was moments like these that made me realize how blessed I truly was.

As we made our way to school, walking side by side, I couldn't help but notice the occasional glances from people passing by. It was a common occurrence whenever Jasmine and I were together.

"Looks like they're gazing at you again," I chuckled, my voice overlapping with Jasmine's.

"Huh?" she responded, equally puzzled by the situation.

"Huh?" I echoed, mirroring her confusion.

We burst into laughter, realizing our simultaneous reaction. It was a lighthearted moment, a testament to the synchronicity we shared. With smiles on our faces, we continued our journey to school, unaffected by the curious gazes of others.

"Hey, tomorrow is a holiday, right?" Jasmine asked, and I nodded, understanding her signal.

"So, we're bunking school today, huh?" I said, and Jasmine flashed me a playful smile, pulling me along towards the hotel.

"We can't do it when our parents are home, right? And since tomorrow is a holiday, it won't be a problem if we have a little more time for ourselves," she explained, her eyes filled with mischief.

...

Standing in the small hotel room, facing Jasmine, my heart swelled with a mixture of nervousness and affection. Taking a deep breath, I gazed into her eyes and spoke, letting my emotions guide my words.

"Jasmine," I began, my voice tinged with vulnerability,

Jasmine's smile softened, her eyes filled with understanding. She reached out, delicately taking hold of my hand, her touch providing reassurance.

"Jasmine, I love you," I whispered, my voice brimming with sincerity.

In a soft, heartfelt whisper, her breath mingling with mine, she replied, "I love you too, Eric. With all my heart." Jasmine's lips brushed against mine, sealing our love with a tender kiss.

And after that, the whole damn room was filled with the noise of constant moaning for a continuous four hours. It's shameful to admit, but we were at it like some beasts.

I Wish everything stays like this forever.

....

[One Month Later.]

"Eric, take care. If you need anything, know that Uncle is always there for you," the person at the door said, and I simply nodded, feeling the emptiness of his words.

What does he mean by "uncle"? I've never met him before when my parents were here.

I closed the door behind me, the echoes of the departing relatives fading away. Some of them had even offered to take me in and start afresh, but I declined their offers. I couldn't simply start over.

Walking into the now-empty house, I couldn't help but feel like my life had unraveled within a matter of days. Everything had fallen apart, and my world had been snatched away from me.

The faces of those individuals still haunted my memory, etched deep within.

Entering the living room, I noticed a bottle of wine displayed in the glass cabinet. It was an expensive wine that my father used to enjoy on happier occasions.

"What's the use of it now? Anyway..." I approached the glass cabinet and took out the wine bottle.

I held the wine bottle in my hand, feeling its weight and the memories it carried. It was a bitter reminder of the happiness that once resided within these walls. With a mix of sadness and defiance, I made my way to the kitchen and searched for a corkscrew.

As I uncorked the bottle, a subtle aroma filled the air, mingling with the scent of loss and solitude. Pouring myself a glass, I stared out the window, the world beyond seeming distant and detached. The liquid swirled in the glass, reflecting the dim light that permeated the room.

Taking a sip, the rich flavors danced on my tongue, momentarily transporting me to a time when laughter echoed through these halls. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste, and allowed myself to reminisce. Memories of family gatherings, joyful conversations, and the warmth of their presence flooded my mind.

But as quickly as the memories surfaced, they were overtaken by the harsh reality of the present. The emptiness of the house surrounded me, reminding me of their absence, and the weight of grief settled upon my shoulders once more.

Placing the entire bottle to my lips, I downed its contents in one gulp. The fiery liquid burned its way down my throat, a bitter reminder of my pain. I knew my mother would have been disappointed if she had seen me resorting to this kind of self-destructive behavior.

With a forceful grip, I crushed the empty bottle in my hand, the sound of shattered glass echoing in the empty room. It felt oddly satisfying, a release of pent-up frustration and anger. I reached for another bottle, this time opting for a cheaper variety.

I continued to drown my sorrows, one bottle after another. The alcohol provided a temporary escape, numbing my senses and blurring the harsh reality that surrounded me. Each sip brought a fleeting moment of relief, but it was an illusion that evaporated as quickly as it appeared.

But as the empty bottles piled up, so did the heaviness in my heart. The alcohol couldn't erase the pain, nor could it fill the void left by my loss. It only served to amplify the emptiness, leaving me feeling even more hollow and lost.

The police have already initiated their investigation and are assuring me to remain hopeful, promising to catch the murderer swiftly. However, I find it difficult to place my trust in their words.

They claim to be on my side, but a nagging doubt lingers in my mind—are they also susceptible to bribery and corruption? Can I truly rely on them to bring justice to those who have taken everything from me?

Ain't that the reason I picked up the gun?

*Ding.*

A notification flashed on my phone screen, revealing numerous unread text messages. Among them were messages from my loved ones, including those from the person who holds a special place in my heart. 

I haven't met Jasmine since the funeral of my parents and I was also busy with a lot of stuff too.

Each message is a reminder of the connections I have, the relationships I cherish, and the support that surrounds me.

"?" I glanced at a message from an unknown number, the content intriguing and puzzling me.

[Surprise! There's a package waiting for you on your doorstep, something you truly deserve after everything you've done for us. Go take a look.]

I was suspicious about it so I grabbed my gun and cautiously walked towards the door, opening the door and I saw a Big package.

*Creak*

There, on the doorstep, was a beautifully wrapped package adorned with a ribbon. Its presence beckoned me, urging me to approach. With trepidation, I slowly untied the ribbon and peeled back the wrapping paper.

And then, my world shattered.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" I screamed, my voice echoing through the air. Inside the package, I discovered a severed head. Time seemed to stand still as my body crumbled, my back hitting the ground, my face drained of all color. The sight before me was beyond comprehension, a horrifying reality that shattered my sanity.

"J-jasmine?!" I stammered, my mind struggling to grasp the unimaginable. The severed head belonged to Jasmine, the love of my life. The shock and despair overwhelmed me, leaving me paralyzed and filled with a profound sense of loss.

More Of Them Are Going Down Now.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

[Present.]

"Hey, Eric! Look at me," Jasmine pouted, playfully trying to capture my attention.

I turned my gaze towards her, my eyes meeting hers, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips. 

Yeah,She's here... right besides me.

Everything will be fine.