Breathe

"Sarah, come downstairs. Now." Dad closed my bedroom door with a loud thud and I sat up, glancing at the clock. 3 AM? What the hell was going on? I pulled some socks onto my feet and shuffled into the hallway. I could hear voices in the living room, along with stifled crying.

When I stepped into the front room, three police officers stood there talking with Dad and a weeping Brenda.

"There was nothing they could do to save your daughter."

My stomach dropped, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Dad looked at me, a depressing frown on his face. "Excuse me for a second," I heard him whisper to the officers. I watched as he came over to me by the stairs, and taking my hand, he sighed. "Sarah baby, Liz was in a car accident."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

"She didn't make it." Dad pulled me into a hug, and I took a short, sharp breath. Why did this have to happen? This was all my fault. If I hadn't said those things to her... I pushed Dad away and went back upstairs, grabbing my cellphone. I doubted that Jacob would be up at this hour, but I could only hope. With shaky fingers, I dialed his phone number.

"H - hello?"

I sighed with relief. "Jake, something bad happened, and I - I - I.."

"What? What's wrong?" The panic in his voice made me nervous.

"Liz is dead." I let the words hang in the air for a moment. "I g -"

"I'll be over there in like, twenty minutes, ok?"

I hung up the phone and closed my eyes, trying to push back anything that might resemble a tear. I refused to cry. Curling up in a ball seemed like the best thing to do at the moment, so that's exactly what I did. And then I waited.

Fifteen minutes didn't seem to take that long to pass before Jacob had shown up. He came in through the front door, surprisingly. But, the moment that he lied down beside me, I lost it. Jacob wrapped his arms around my tiny body and held me close. I pressed my face into his chest, the tears that I'd been holding in for long soaking his shirt.

"Everything will be ok," he whispered, pressing my hair down against my head.

"It fucking won't," I said, choking over my sobs. I sat up, and rubbed my face violently. "Jake, the last thing I said to her was that I hated her. How is that going to get any better?"

Jacob sighed softly, and pulled me into him, his arms around my waist. "Don't blame yourself. That's the worst thing you can do."

"But it's my fault! If I had just ignored her, then this wouldn't have happened!" My fingers clawed at his shirt. "Why am I such a fucking bitch?"

"Sarah," he covered my mouth with his hand, "you've got to take a deep breath. This is not your fault. You cannot change fate. Things happen for a reason, even if we might not like it." Jacob uncovered my mouth, and instead kissed my forehead. "I love you. There isn't anything that you could have possibly done to change what happened."

I sighed, and closed my eyes. I was so fucking tired that I could hardly concentrate, but the guilt that clouded over me was overwhelming and I couldn't calm my mind. Jacob's 108 degree temperature was relaxing, and I wanted to stay like this forever.

*

"Sarah? You need to wake up now."

I turned onto my back, expecting to find Jacob. Instead, I found the other side of the bed empty. Dad was standing at the foot of my bed, pulling at my toes gently to wake me. "Why?" I groaned.

"We're going to your grandparents' house. If you don't want to come, that's fine, but I didn't want to leave you here without knowing where we were."

I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face. "I - I'll stay."

"Ok. I'll call you around one, ok?" He left my bedroom and I sat still, taking in the information. Liz was dead. Jacob was gone. Dad and Brenda were gone.

I was alone.

It felt strangely good to say that. I haven't had time to myself in a long time, and the thought of a long, hot shower was refreshing.

It was still hard to accept that Liz was gone forever. She was my step-sister, so I had to have some sort of sibling love for her, but it was in the deepest part of me. I didn't want to take the time to find that part.

Locking the bathroom door, I turned the shower on. There was a body-length mirror on the back, and every time, I had to undress with my back to it because I couldn't bare the sight of my body.

Today was different. I looked at my pale skin. There were bruises on my neck, on my collar, on my legs. My skin was blotchy, almost a sickly color. I needed more sun, that was for sure. The dark hair on my head was in tangles, and needed to be cut again. It was dirty, filled with oils from my hands, and from Jacob. My hair hardly reached the base of my neck now. I studied myself for a while longer before stepping into the show to wash away the filth.

God, I was filthy.