The Day Sara Lost Everything: Chapter 25

***DISCLAIMER: I WASN’T PLEASED WITH THE WAY MY LAST CHAPTER ENDED. PLEASE DON’T GET CONFUSED, BUT THIS CHAPTER IS GOING TO START A LITTLE BIT INTO THE LAST CHAPTER SO I CAN ELIMINATE A CERTAIN PART. THANK YOU.***

“You always were a slut.”

Betty awoke to a start and flung her arms across her chest in a futile attempt at modesty. Her eyes grey wide as she saw as shadow crossing the river, Jim. What was he doing here? They hadn’t had any contact since that fateful day. He wouldn’t even permit her to see her own daughter, terrified that her harlot ways would rub off on the innocent young child. She saw how well that had worked out. Sara always was fragile and she had left her baby girl alone with that monster. She was a pathetic excuse for a mother.

Exhausted Betty replied, “Jim, what do you want?”

“My daughter bitch,” and with that Jim pulled out a black pistol that glittered in the pale moon light. Before Betty could so much as scream two lead bullets were buried deep into her chest. She clutched her heart muttered, “I love you Sara baby” and fell lifeless into the pond.

The splash awakened Sara who peaked around the edge of the cave only to find her mother’s body lying face down in the water, current gently pushing her limp form towards the shore. She ran out of her hiding place, tears running wildly down her face. She waded in the water and held her mother in her arms. This was her mistake, for she had given no thought to the person who obviously had shot the one person in her life who cared.

Sara’s tears kept coming in an endless stream. She couldn’t hold them back. She noticed a figure out of the corner of her eye, and ran for the woods as fast as her legs could take her. Not a runner, Sara soon became out of breath and struggled to keep up her pace.

“Where am I even going,” thought Sara.

With no destination in mind, she ran all night. A little before daybreak she stopped in front of a familiar house, the place she had lived for the past few weeks, Anthony’s. Knowing he was out looking for her she stole away into the mansion and into the bathroom that was connected to her old room.

The porcelain gleamed with a almost eerie glow. She opened up the cabinet door and pulled out a spare razor. She cracked the plastic on the sink and proceeded to peel the blade away, careful not to slice her fingers. She slid down, sobbing.

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Sara sat on the floor wondering how it had come to this. She lifted the blade, holding it steady to her flesh, and drug it slowly across her wrist. She never cut to kill herself and up until today it had been months since she had to. For Sara, cutting was a stress relief. A way to deal with the emotions she refused to confront.

"Who am I," thought Sara as she threw the razor blade across the room sobbing to herself. It stuck in the wall, sticking out like a knife in someone's back.

"Its all my fault, why couldn't I tell him the truth? Maybe if I told him that it was my Dad who got me pregnant and not my ex-boyfriend Nathan, Ian might not have broken up with me," Sara said aloud, talking to no one except the pathetic face staring back at her from the mirror.

She stood up and pulled the blade out of the wall. Smiling into the mirror, she placed the cold, flexible blade against the hollow of her neck. She couldn’t believe it could end this way, in this situation. She dug the point in gasping at the pain. It never felt this way on her wrists or hands, what was this pain. Before she could think or act on this further she heard a noise downstairs.

“There’s no time for this now,” thought Sara as she pocketed the blade, walked into her old living quarters and lifted up the widow. Smiling to herself she was blessed with the fact that her room was right by the drain pipe. She climbed out onto the sill and wrapped her delicate limbs around the pole. Just as she started to slide down, a loud screech echoed in the early dawn. The pipe was tearing away from its braces, slowly and steadily Sara fell to the ground thinking, “Can’t anything go right?”