Alita
Her name was Jasmine. Beautiful and vibrant, just like the famous Jasmine flower. Her brown eyes were always filled with life and passion. She always wore a smile, a kind and beautiful smile. She was a few years older than me. To be precise, she was two years older than me.
Her parents were warrior couples who lived next to us. Her father was kind and caring. Her mother was strong and dependable, everything that my parents were not and could never be.
We used to play together. Jasmine, Shayna, and I were almost inseparable. There was something about her smile, something about her that was calming to be around.
She was my guardian angel. She always appeared when I desperately needed help. Whether I was locked up in a dark and smelly store room, whether I was beaten beyond focus
