SoA : The box

A/N: It's time to say goodbye to a very difficult part of her past. Of course, you can't really just forget everything with a snap of a finger, but eventually getting rid of the belongings to someone you used to know and who had such a negative impact in your life is the beginning Asma needed.

Xxxxxxx

A box. Was that what you were reduced to when you die? Reduced to a box filled with memorabilia that meant something only when you were alive? Asma didn't know what to do with the box Jessica gave her two days after Oscar died. It was filled with his belongings Jess guys found at the motel room he was renting. Inside there was nothing of great value, mostly junk she didn't want to deal with. Clothes, guns and knives, drugs and several notebooks. At first, Asma didn't want to touch these because she didn't want memories to overwhelm her. Indeed, Oscar used to write his secrets on a book, events he said he had to remember or clues of a potential conspiracy against him. He documented everything and she knew by the sheer number of notebooks that her name would have been mentioned in every single one of them. Was that worth the hassle? Was that worth the pain? For days, Asma slept next to the box, unable to decide what to do next with it, unable to gather the strength to get rid of it. Oscar's life might have been taken in that kitchen, but the negative impact he had on Asma was still there. It didn't go away with his death, it didn't go away.

What was she thinking? That with him gone all of her issues were gone too? He wasn't a boogeyman, he was an abusive asshole who made her life a frigging living hell. He was a man who destroyed her and had her look past her shoulder for the last couple of years. He was the one who helped Elias happen in her life and exacerbated the need for self-destruction and unhappy relationships. He was a plague, his actions were and now that he was gone, Asma realized that there was no getting back a life without him. She couldn't pretend Oscar never happened, he shaped her to be the woman she was today and whether she liked it or not, she couldn't just get rid of him. But what about that box then?

Of course, Asma wanted to get rid of it. Burying it was her first choice but it would be akin to bury her emotions and pretend it never happened. She needed to be liberated from Oscar's ghost, something strong enough to make her feel as if she'd moved forward. There was a deadline as well. Jessica told Asma that her guys left her a week to decide what to do with the box before they came and burn it to ashes. There could never be any evidence that Oscar was in Charming so if someone was looking into it, they wouldn't find anything. He had to be completely erased from the books. After scratching her head for a good three days, Asma decided that she would burn the box. She wouldn't even read the poisonous notebooks out of « nostalgia » because she knew what would be written there. He probably had insulted her with every name in the book and probably threw in some racial slurs she didn't want to read. She wouldn't get anything good from reading it so she rejected that idea altogether.

Burning then! It would be through the fire that the tattoo artist would be reborn. It was decided! That very night after being agitated and unable to sleep, Asma went to her backyard. She put the box on the ground, threw some gasoline on it and took the box of matches in her hand. Asma was shaking, coming to the realization that it was her moment of truth. The moment she would finally get rid of Oscar in this plane of existence. He was dead now. He would never come to hurt her anymore. She crouched in front of the box and sighed heavily at the box. Her fingers were having troubles listing the flames and she knew why. For so long she had been scared and worried about having Oscar find her in Charming. If he had found her, he would have taken her back into a life of abuse. Her bones remembered the punches and kicks he gave her. Her body remembered the times he forced himself on her. Her mind remembered the terror she felt whenever she heard his voice and how he made her recoil at the corner of the room with the mere mention of his name.

« Here you are, Oscar.... Reduced to a fucking box. You're less threatening like that now, aren't you? » She wrapped her arms around her legs and leaned her face against her knees. « I wish I could talk to you before you died. I wish I was the one who killed you. It would be fair after all you've put me through, wouldn't it? » She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes. « I hate you. I hate you so much and I hate even more that I cannot forget you. All you've done.. all you've said. It's forever imprinted inside of me and I wish I could forget but I couldn't. I would never.. » She groaned and hid her face between her legs. A sob escaped from her lips as she held onto her knees with her nails. « I hope you will rot in hell like the scum you are. I hope you will be tormented even worse than you tormented me. I hope you will... » She then unwrapped her arms around her legs and knelt on the floor before she sat on her heels. « You know what? I already know what would happen to you but that's beside the point here. It's not about you! It's about me! » She nervously chuckled and shook her head. « It's about me! It's about me! This time it's all about ME! » She then burned a match and threw it in the box, setting it on fire.

Asma watched as the flame danced and smirked to herself with trembling lips. She was right, it was about her. It was about her being able to survive despite the torments and brutality against her. It was about her working hard to earn her happiness and her being able to be better than he thought she could ever be. She broke free all by herself, then Cody helped as well as many other people who were in her life today. She broke free! She saved herself from a certain death by the hands of that man and it was a feat she should be proud of.

Her joy overwhelmed the young woman who chuckled and smiled at the sight of evil being burned down but quickly enough, she felt overwhelmed with sadness. It wasn't because Oscar was dead or that the threat he represented was gone. It was the fact she realized what she went through was not normal. It wasn't normal.

But she survived.

(TBC)