The Thorns Which It Bears

Fear Me (Part 2)

Notes:

*Edited/Rewritten 9/21/23

Sarah's brush ran through her dark hair, pulling the bristles through the thick long locks draped over her shoulder. Staring at her face in the mirror, she sighed as she dotted concealer under her eyes, trying to hide the dark circles that cradled them, the mottled purple hues a stark contrast to her pale skin. Years of restless nights would do that.

Sipping on her coffee she set the mug on her dresser, to take one last look at herself before setting off to her childhood home. A dusting of blush brought a little color to her face. Lipstick painting the curve of her smile. Anything and everything to mask the bone-deep exhaustion that drained her of all vivacity. The last thing she wanted was for her family to worry more than they already did.

It had been two months since her last visit. She finally called them to invite herself over, knowing if she stayed late they would insist she crash on the couch. She needed it. Needed to see her family. To feel grounded. To sleep.

Four years, she thought as she turned the key in her ignition. She'd rarely had a solid night's sleep in four years. As the engine roared into life, the stereo blasted a piercing guitar solo. Her hands jumped into panicky action, turning knobs to quiet the deafening music. Her heart raced as her ears recovered. That's one way to wake up. Looking over her shoulder, she pulled out into the street, merging with the traffic.

College had been a blessing in disguise. Late nights and lack of sleep were the norms. If you weren't burning the candle at both ends, you weren't trying hard enough. Though that wasn't enough to help her keep a roommate. Koko had moved rooms after two weeks. No one else lasted even that long.

She tried to go home in that first semester, but the Laura Ashley makeover had already started and the room given to Grandma Mary who had finally agreed to sell her house before it became too much for her to manage alone. She came to live with Sarah's parents with the compromise that she would have a garden in the backyard. That was no hardship to her parents. Karen loved the idea of fresh herbs for her cooking and her father loved the idea of his mother being taken care of. Sarah was left well and truly on her own though she would never begrudge her grandma anything.

By the end of Freshman year, she had gained a reputation. Some people said she was crazy. Some said she was haunted. Which was closer to the truth, Sarah had never been sure. Stares and whispers followed her down the halls. No sororities or social clubs would have her. She found herself alone with her books in the parks once more.

Sarah finally resorted to a note from a doctor saying she suffered from night terrors to allow her to have her own room. With that note, she accepted a prescription. A prescription that did nothing. The few times she swallowed them in desperation led to her bumbling and stumbling against the walls that still sprouted at her touch. Her ankle twisted and sprained, tangled in the creeping juniper that flourished under her feet.

Alcohol, she discovered, had similar effects. Slowing her down. Making her vulnerable. And all the while she felt the anger that radiated at her as though he knew. As though he was as disappointed and disgusted with her as she was with herself.

Staying awake was her only option it seemed. She even tried some pills a boy sold her to help her stay awake "to study." The crash after she came down was hard and swift. But nothing she tried stopped him from coming for her. It was a miracle she graduated. She had thought that she would lose her sanity first. But she managed like everyone else.

Now she managed a career. Well, it was a job. A nice desk job she got her junior year where she could rest her aching feet while saving up for her future. Her tasks of data entry and filing were boring, tedious, and perfect for one who spent her night running for her life. People often said she was wasting her talents. With a degree and no student loans thanks to her mother, she should have moved on and up in the world. But her mundane days were her only respite.