Fallen ((Brantley))

[Jasmine Anderson]

Jasmine was lying down on her side under the warm covers of the four poster bed. A book was opened, outstretched in front of her. She should be working on essays for classes, but couldn’t bring herself to do them. Reading was the only thing that kept her from recalling the past month. Everything had just gone down the drain because of one incredibly stupid action of her avoiding Brantley. She wasn’t even thinking at the time how much it would affect him, until recently. Jasmine still couldn’t believe that fight had happened between. She remembered everything that he had said, especially the statement about her mother. How could he have said such a thing? He knew she didn’t like brining up the fact that her parents were dead, but mocking them, that was taking it too far. She could still see the pain inflicted in his eyes along with anger. Those two feelings had Jasmine ever seen on Brantley Chapman’s eyes before. Jasmine still remembered him throwing and breaking the necklace he had meant to give to her at the ball. She wondered what he did with the piece of jewelry after she had denied keeping it from him. This wasn’t Brantley’s normal behavior. Guys just don’t start changing at a blink of an eye over a girl, but Brantley was different from most of the guys. Jasmine was still convinced that it wasn’t the same guy who she had fallen for.

Setting the book down with a sigh, Jasmine set the book down on the table beside her. Blowing at a long strand of hair that had fallen into her face, she watched it fall back into place. Pulling the covers off from her, Jasmine slowly got out of the comfort of her bed. Taking a hair brush, she combed it through her dark, bed matted hair while taking out some clean clothes from her trunk. She was still in her uniform, retiring to her bed right after classes. Dinner wasn’t until another couple of hours, but Jasmine didn’t know if she could just sat there again, looking in Brantley’s direction occasionally. Were things ever going to be alright between them? Sighing, Jasmine pulled on the blue long sleeved shirt, along with a pair of comfortable blue jeans. Taking a brown hair clip from her jewelry box, she pulled her messy dark hair into a half ponytail. Once she was ready, Jasmine bent over to pick up her shoulder bag, resting the straps securely on her shoulder and headed out of the dorm room. She was only halfway down the stairs when seeing a little second year speed into the common room. With a raised eyebrow, Jasmine stared at the younger student as he came up to her. “Come quickly! Someone’s trashed the sixth year dorm!” Oh no, Brantley.

Dropping all her stuff on the ground, Jasmine quickly followed the younger boy up the stairs into the boy’s dormitory. She had never been gone in there, mainly because she really didn’t have a motive to. The door of the room was already open revealing a complete catastrophe of a mess. There were sheets all over the ground, broken glass, feathers from pillows, dressers, almost everything had been thrown violently around. It looked as if a tornado had passed by. “Do you want me to get Professor Flitwick?” he asked looking up at Jasmine’s shocked face. She nodded her head ushering the boy out of the way. “No. I’ll handle this.” Watching as he retreated back down the stairs she looked over to her right noticing a large crowd of boys. “I advice you to leave….now!” she demanded waiting until everyone was gone. Quietly stepping into the room, Jasmine took a deep breath as she looked around for Brantley.

“Brantley?” she called out softly, stepping over turned over dressers. Kicking aside a couple of clothes that were pilled up, she turned around seeing a figure sitting in the corner. “Brantley?” Walking up to him, Jasmine slowly knelt down beside him. Her right hand rested softly on his knees, her other hand moving aside strands of his dark hair. She smiled softly at him for the first time in a long time, her right hand gently rubbing his knee in a comforting way. “I think…..I think we need to go to the Hospital Wing.”

[Brantley Chapman R7]

“No, no, no, no stay out! Stay out, I said! Just stay out!” Brantley brandished his wand at his dorm mate who gave him an odd look and left, closing the door behind him. Brantley nodded in triumph as he collapsed on his four poster. His hands covered his face as he listened to the stillness of the dormitory. Everything had spun out of control. There wasn’t a day that Brantley went when he didn’t kick himself in the head for saying the things he had to Jasmine. He didn’t know why he had gone completely insane, but he had and there wasn’t anything he could do to take it back. Brantley stared up at the ceiling, his mind doing laps around the past month or so. First, he felt regret. The searing regret that made you want to throw yourself out a twenty story window. Second, he felt shame. Shame which Brantley had never felt before, because Brantley was hardly ever ashamed of himself or his actions. Third, he felt anger. And it was at anger that he acted upon. Of course, if Brantley had been thinking in his right mind he would have realized that it was the anger that led to his shame and the shame resulted in regret. But Brantley wasn’t thinking in his right mind, so he acted upon his anger without a care. He stood from his bed and looked around the sixth year boy dormitory. Everything was so nice and neat.

Not for long.

Brantley pointed his wand at the mattress of his bed, muttered an incantation, and within moments the mattress was torn to shreds and feathers were thrown everywhere. He didn’t waste any time turning to the dresser that was against the wall near the door. The dresser launched itself across the room and splintered open as it hit the floor. Clothes were falling out, and Brantley flicked his wand, sending them around the room. Now, he put his wand away and reached up for the drapes around his four poster, tearing them down and then tearing them up. He tore off the pictures from the wall, all the Quidditch posters, everything. He made sure there wasn’t one neat thing left in the room before hurling himself toward the window and pointing his wand at it. “Reducto!” The window shattered into pieces. Next, he pointed to the other windows and one by one go rid of them as well. All the anger, shame, and regret he had built up inside him were finally coming out. Yes, they were coming by means of a wand that was destroying everything, but it really helped him relieve his stress. The stress that was slowly dwindling down to depression.

He took a look at the disaster he had created, and then he kicked some debris out of the way. “Good goin’ mate. That’s what will fix everything. Now you’ll have Jasmine and your dorm mates after you. Real intelligent move, Brantley.” He paced back and forth as he spoke to himself. His eyes moving around from the dresser to the beds to the windows. Suddenly, he laughed. He laughed and laughed, like he was crazy. He might as well have been because he looked like it. “Bloody brilliant!” Brantley tugged on his hair as he ran his hand through it before he sank to the floor in a corner. He put his head in his arms which were propped on his knees and started muttering to himself. He felt someone enter the room, but they soon ran off. They came back, though, joined by another person.

It was her.

He knew it was her without looking up. Brantley continued to mutter to himself as he covered his eyes, fully aware that Jasmine was closer to him than she had been in weeks. He smelled her perfume as she knelt down beside him, and within moments he felt her hand on his knee and her other hand moving his hair aside. Brantley allowed himself to stop muttering and lift his head to look at her. “No… no hospital wing. I’m fine… I just…” he looked over her shoulder at the ruin he had created. “I made a bloody mess of myself.”

[Jasmine Anderson]

Jasmine watched Brantley’s covered face, listening to his endless muttering. Her hand continued to move aside his dark hair as she waited for an answer. She didn’t know what Madame Pomfrey would do to help, since he wasn’t exactly physical injured. There had to be another problem, maybe a mental disorder. It couldn’t be just her running away from him that made him go completely insane. First of yelling at her, throwing chairs or jewelry round, and now trashing the dorm room, what would be next? Stalk someone, using his intelligence and wittiness to kill them? Her hand was still slowly circling his knee as he rejected her idea on going to the Hospital Wing. Looking over at her shoulder at the mess, she shook her head as he mentioned he created a mess of himself. Glancing back at him, a small smile appeared on her lips. “You look fine to me,” Jasmine joked, moving aside another strand of hair that was falling into his eyes. “Are you ok?” Looking over his hands and body, Jasmine didn’t see any scratch on his body.

Sighing, Jasmine slumped down to the ground beside him, her hands resting on top of her knees. She stared out into the empty room, her hazel eyes looking from one mess to another. What had been going across Brantley’s mind when he did this? At least his anger was being taken out on something else besides her. Jasmine stilled remembered that comment her made about her mother. Running her fingers through her hair, she ruffled it slightly, glancing over at Brantley. “Why?” she asked, her eyes staring contently into his. “Would trashing the dorm room make it feel any better?” Biting her lip, she stopped herself, looking away from Brantley. She didn’t want him to get angry at her. “I’m sorry…I’m just shocked that’s all.”

Standing up from the ground, Jasmine slowly walked to one corner of the room, picking up school books that were piled on the floor. Stacking them neatly onto the table she than noticed the familiar broken necklace on the ground, not noticing it was covered with glass. Bending down to pick up the necklace, she jumped as something sharp brushed across her skin. “Damn….” Jasmine cried, the necklace fell out of her hands as she grabbed the small cut on her palm.

[Brantley Chapman R7]

Brantley nearly flinched and pulled away from Jasmine as she continued to move his hair aside. It wasn’t her touch that made him want to run away, it was just the idea that she was seeing him like this. Brantley had always tried to put on the demeanor of staying calm, of being reasonable, and now both those characteristics that he so boldly possessed were gone because of what? Some stupid rejection of a kiss? If he couldn’t deal with Jasmine running off, how was he going to deal if he was left at the altar on his wedding day? Would he kill someone then instead of a dresser and a couple of mattresses? It was a chilling thought, and Brantley noticeably shuddered as it crossed his mind. He lifted his gaze over to Jasmine and returned her small smile when she said he looked fine to her. He knew she was joking, but Brantley really did feel fine. “I’m fine, really. Just quite shaken. I don’t know what got into me.” He looked at the mess he had made and shook his head before raking his fingers through it. “Jamison’s going to chew me a new one…” Brantley was fairly certain Jamison wouldn’t say much. Although they had shared the same dorm for six years, they got along fairly well. He just wished he knew what had gotten over him to make him trash the living quarters they all shared.

He turned his attention to her when she asked why he had done it. It was the exact question that had been running through his mind and he wished more than anything that he could answer it, but he couldn’t. “A bit, it helped a bit. All my anger was taken out on the mattresses or the pillows, even the draperies. It was better than taking it out on you, at least. The pillows, mattresses, and draperies didn’t cry.” He chuckled lightly, making an ill attempt at being humorous at a time that didn’t call for it. Everything was so much easier to get through if you laughed it off, but sometimes there were just things you couldn’t laugh off and this was one of those times. Brantley leaned his head against the wall as he sighed and watched Jasmine stand from her spot on the floor beside him. His blue eyes watched as she began to pick up as best as she could. The words to tell her to leave it be and let him clean it up, after all it was his fault it was a disaster in the first place, were in his throat but they didn’t come out of his mouth.

Jasmine had knelt down to retrieve the necklace from the floor, but seemed to have cut herself on something (most likely a piece of glass). Brantley stood from his spot in the corner and strode over to her, crunching on the glass and debris from his destruction. He reached over and grabbed her hand, pulled her closer toward him and examined the cut. “It’s nothing a band-aid can’t cure,” and with that he waved his wand and muttered a word so quickly under his breath it was nearly inaudible. A band-aid appeared on Jasmine’s hand, covering the cut, and Brantley grinned. “See? All better.”

[Jasmine Anderson]

Jasmine brought her knees to her chest as she listened to the silence between them. Her arms were wrapped around the base of her legs, hugging them tightly. Brantley had gone from angry, to sad, back to livid, and now calm. It was all just too strange. It was easy for people to go from one emotion to the next, but some could handle themselves when angry. He didn’t answer her question on why he had done these things. She guessed it was probably because he didn’t know, or maybe he just didn’t want to tell her it was all because of her. Looking over at Brantley as he laughed she shrugged her shoulders at his attempt to a humorous comment. “Maybe the drapes, mattresses, and windows were just crying on the inside,” Jasmine said glancing around the room before returning her gaze to Brantley. “You did rip everything apart…poor pillows.” Picking up a feather near by, she twirled it around between her fingers. “Didn’t even have a chance.” Chuckling softly, Jasmine didn’t understand why she was joking around. Maybe, this was the only way to mend things between her and Brantley. She didn’t want to stay out his life, or have him stay out of hers. He was only one of the few people who she was close too, and knew her quite well. Setting the feather on her palm, Jasmine blew on it gently, watching it was it landed on Brantley’s shirt.

Grabbing her palm quickly with her other hand, Jasmine cursed under her breath silently staring down at glass. She heard the sound of crunching glass and felt Brantley’s hand pull her off from the ground. Jasmine allowed him, standing up straight as she looked into his eyes. She couldn’t see the anger or pain in them anymore, just the brilliance of blue shinning. When a band aid appeared on the cut, she smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you.” Gently covering his hand with her free one, her fingers traced the outline of his. Jasmine wanted him to continue to hold her hand. The touch of his skin against hers seemed to make everything alright. “I’ll help you clean,” she whispered with a faint smile on her lips. Turning around she took out her own wand, pointing it at the broken glass on the floor. With a simple spell, the glass mended together by the window. Nodding her head, she then bent down to pick up the broken necklace. The chain slide into her palm, the broken diamonds shinning in the light, and suddenly she felt like breaking down.

Tears slid down her face as Jasmine walked away from Brantley. Her back was turned on him so he couldn’t see her face. Leaning her forehead against the wall, she stared out the window, the tears just falling down uncontrollably. “This is my entire fault…” she whispered looking over at Brantley, her whole body trembling. “All because of my stupid fears of love, this has happened.” Gazing back out the window her tears began to fall down faster, as she gasped for breath. “Most importantly….I hurt you and there’s nothing I can do to take it all back.” Jasmine cried as her hand clutched the necklace tightly that her hands were turning white.

[Brantley Chapman R7]

Brantley grinned, “Well, those pillows looked awfully suspicious.” He ran his hand through his hair as he looked around at the room. He had made a complete mess, but he didn’t completely regret it. Trashing the room had calmed him down considerably, and the usual sense of what he was doing returned to him. He began wondering why his emotions had gone completely out of control and why he had switched them so quickly. Immediately (now that he was thinking sensibly) he thought of his father, and the condition his father had. Harvey had always been able to control his outbursts of anger, especially when he remembered to take his medication… could Brantley have what his father had? The idea was shocking and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he didn’t dare utter a word to Jasmine about it. He didn’t want to scare her anymore than she already was. Instead, he picked the feather off his shirt that Jasmine had blown toward him and twirled it in between his fingers while watching her. The feather was white and curved perfectly. It was so light and so… feather like that Brantley almost found himself lost in the idea about being an inanimate object. Life would surely be so much easier, wouldn’t it? There wouldn’t be any love to deal with, nor any anger acts to clean up after. It was an appealing thought, and Brantley wondered if there was a spell that could turn him into an inanimate object. The moment he thought about it, however, he shoved it out of his mind. That would not be a good life to live.

When she held his hand and thanked him for the band-aid, Brantley just stared at her and then nodded; “You’re welcome.” He pulled his hand away, not quite ready to feel contact, not quite ready to make everything fine again. What would happen if it did go back to the way it was? Would something set him off again? Would he take it a step further the next time and hurt Jasmine instead of a mattress? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did that. He would be looking up ways to become inanimate objects within a heartbeat. Brantley sighed and nodded again when Jasmine said she would help him clean. Together they worked in silence. Jasmine had repaired the windows, and Brantley was cleaning up all the feathers and replacing the mattresses and pillows. He then fixed the draperies and the dressers (returning all the clothes to their proper places) and soon all that was left was the trash that didn’t really belong to anything, which was cleaned with a flick of his wand. The room was back together as if nothing had happened.

Brantley looked up from the spot on the floor that he had been looking at to see Jasmine leaning against the wall and looking out the window. She was crying, but he didn’t move to comfort her. Instead, he stood rooted to the floor and listened to her blame herself. He knew it wasn’t her fault, not all of it. Yes, she had triggered some part of him that had otherwise remained dormant for years, but it wasn’t entirely her fault. Brantley crossed his arms and looked down at his shoes as the silence thickened around them. After a moment or so, because he couldn’t let her go on blaming herself, Brantley sighed and sat down on his bed, his head in his hands. “No. It isn’t your fault. It’s… my father’s.” He knew that sounded cryptic, and he knew it would pique Jasmine’s interest so he continued. “My father, before he died, was diagnosed when he was younger with bipolar disorder. And I think… I think I might have it, too.”

[Jasmine Anderson]

Tears kept on falling from Jasmine’s eyes, sliding down her crimson cheeks. She bit the bottom of her trembling lip, trying to gain control over her emotions. It was just that’s everything was bottled up inside ever since her argument with Brantley. Her hazel eyes stared at Brantley hopelessly as he just stood there. Wasn’t he going to say anything? Averting her eyes back to the window, Jasmine watched the grounds. Her crying was beginning to stop, only a couple more tears falling down, landing on the window sill. There was silence in the room, but Jasmine’s mind was buzzing a thousand miles per hour with different thoughts. Everything had been so simple in her life before Brantley, but, her life had been colorless and dull. Her thoughts ended when she heard his voice. Brantley was blaming his father for his unpredictable emotions. Staring at Brantley with raised eyebrows, she wiped away the tears with the edge of the sleeve as he explained himself. Bipolar? It sounded quite logical and explained many of his actions. Though, Jasmine had never been around, or even know anyone who was bipolar. Her cousin Chad always got out of hand sometimes, but he was just an annoying seventeen year old.

Staring around at the dull band aid on her palm, Jasmine just stood there, silent. She was trying to take it all in, reasoning with the new information thrown her way. “Your dad was bipolar?” she finally asked, breaking the long silence. Glancing back up at him, a small smile curled onto her lips. “It does seem to explain a lot of things that have been happening with you.” Running her fingers through her dark hair, she walked over toward Brantley’s bed, sitting down at the other end. She sunk into the mattress while bringing her legs up to rest on the small bar of the best post. “There could be other answers…” she said looking around the newly cleaned room. “Do you remember anything at all when you were younger about your dad when he didn’t take his medicine?” Her hazel eyes finally fell upon Brantley’s face, a reassuring smile still on her lips.

“I kind of still think we should go see Madame Pomfrey…” Jasmine suggested looking away as she said the word we. What if he wanted to go through this by himself? After all, she had caused so much pain on him already. She wouldn’t let him. “I want to help you through this Brantley…Only if you’ll let me, because thats what friends are for and I don't want you to go through something like this alone...”