Tragic the Way People Pass Her By

An hour or two passed. There was still no sign of Sarah or Zach. I was beginning to get really worried. I caught myself rambling onto Mrs. Clark, unaware of the words coming out of my mouth. Before I realized it, I told her the reason I was there. How worried I was about Sarah. How worried I was about everything. How terrible it was on tour without her. How tense Zach was. How tense everyone was without her. She was our glue. Our rock.

But the more I thought about it, I realized what scared me most. She wasn’t that person anymore. The care free, honest, lovable, joyful, humorous girl we all knew and loved, was gone.

“I know, Cameron. I know,” Mrs. Clark said solemnly. I could see tears forming in her eyes. She leaned against the kitchen counter that she was making dinner on, and looked at me. “I know,” she whispered, barely audible. “I’m scared too. Sometimes I feel like she’s gone entirely, and it scares me. I know she’s a different person, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“Come here,” I instructed, holding my arms out to her. She looked like she needed a hug. Quite frankly, I needed one too.

Mrs. Clark closed the few feet between us, and put her arms around me. “Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled away. “Thank you so much.” Tears were pouring down her face, and she quickly tried to brush them away.

“You’re welcome, but for what?” I asked, confused. All I did was give her a hug.

“For caring about her. You are the only one who has made an attempt to see how she is. None of her old friends even cared, and it tears my heart apart just thinking about it. I know it tore her fragile heart even more. I just can’t stand it. Just thank you.”

I tried to respond, my voice got caught on a huge lump that had formed in the back of my throat. We sat there in silence as Mrs. Clark stirred the pot of pasta she was cooking.

“You are welcome to stay for dinner, Cameron. I don’t know where Sarah is, but she should be here soon. Why don’t you go down to the basement or Sarah’s room, and wait? I’ll call you down when dinner is ready,” she said to me, with her back turned.

“Thank you, Mrs. Clark,” I said, before excusing myself. I maneuvered up the grand staircase to the second floor. I found Sarah’s room easily, and stepped inside. Flipping on the switch, I got a good look at her room. The last time I was in here, I was carrying a passed out Sarah in the dark. The lights weren’t on, and I truly had no idea just how much it had changed since the incident. The previously rose colored walls were now painted a deep, deep, blue. The entire décor was changed to a darker palette. The furniture arrangement was still the same. The posters were taken down.

It wasn’t organized. The bed wasn’t made as it used to be. Sarah used to be the most organized person I knew. She could never leave anywhere if her bed wasn’t made. Now, she had clothes strewn all over the floor. There was a suspicious stain on her white carpet. There was a thick layer of dust covering the surface of everything.

It broke my heart. It really did.

They say that a person can’t change, that they are always that person, somewhere on the inside. I used to agree with that. Now, I find myself believing that yes, it’s possible to change. If someone endures something so tragic, so painful, it changes who they are on the inside. They have to close themselves to reality. It’s a human’s natural instinct. They don’t want to be hurt again. It’s their natural defense.

Sitting in her room, I became convinced. The Sarah I once knew, no longer existed on this planet. She was gone, perhaps forever. She was so emotionally damaged to the point of no return.

I sat down on her couch, and laid down. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t see straight anymore. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

…

Hours later, I was awoken by the door suddenly opening. I sat up with a start, as Sarah walked into her room.

“Oh, thank god” I breathed out, in a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing here?” she asked blatantly, frozen in the doorframe.

“I… uh… Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I stammered awkwardly, running a hand through my hair.

“I’m the same as when I talked to you earlier,” she said, her eyes piercing. “No need to show up to my house, and wait in my bedroom.”

I stared at her, while trying to form a reply in my mind. “Well, you weren’t answering your phone, and Zach saw you, and got mad, and I was afraid he was going to come here, and you weren’t ready, and I was really scared that you would freak at him, and him at you and yeah.”

Her entire body froze when I mentioned Zach. A pained expression formed on her face. “Zach saw me?” she asked slowly, looking down, enunciating every word.

“I… I thought he was going to come here, and I got scared.” I admitted.

Her legs began to shake, and her body started swaying. “Oh my god,” she stammered, between gaspy breaths.

Moving quickly, I raced over to her, before her legs gave out. “Zach,” she whispered.

“I know, baby, I know,” I whispered, as I carried her over to her bed. She was shaking uncontrollably. I could feel her heart racing, and her breathing raced.

I laid her down on her bed, and sat down next to her. She shifted her position, so that her head was resting on my chest. Tears were flowing freely. I ran my hands threw her hair, trying to sooth her. She was uncontrollable.

“It’s going to be okay, Sarah. We’re going to work this out,” I murmured into her ear. “We’re going to get through this, and you’re going to be okay. I promise. We’ll make it through this – together. I’m not leaving anytime soon. I’m going to be here for you.”