10
301 Words
Chapter Ten: “The First Line”
The blank page blinked at her.
A new document.
Untitled.
The cursor pulsed like a heartbeat.
Mocking. Daring. Waiting.
Jasmine stared at it for fifteen minutes.
She sipped cold tea. Opened her window. Changed her playlist twice.
But still — nothing.
How do you write about betrayal so sharp it made you doubt your own name?
How do you begin to pour pain into words when the pain still wakes you up at 3:47 a.m.?
She typed:
> “I once loved someone who made the world disappear.”
Then deleted it.
Too soft.
She tried again:
> “He said forever. So did she. They both lied.”
Delete.
Too bitter.
Her fingers hovered. Her throat ached. The tears threatened — again. Not because she was sad. But because she was tired of being sad.
She closed her eyes and whispered to herself,
“Don’t write what hurts — write what’s true.”
So she typed:
> “My name is Jasmine.
And I’m writing this because silence was killing me faster than grief.”
She paused.
Her breath hitched.
Then she kept going.
> “I trusted them both. One wore my heart, the other wore my clothes.
I loved loudly. They betrayed quietly.
Now, I’m here — trying to piece myself back together, not for revenge.
Not for followers.
But because I need to believe there’s still a ‘me’ beneath the wreckage.”
She stared at the screen.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it was honest.
And for the first time in months, the heaviness in her chest eased — just slightly.
She hit save.
Named the file: Still Jasmine – Chapter One.
Outside, the world buzzed with stories that weren’t hers.
Inside, Jasmine was finally beginning to reclaim her own.
- Writer
