Tethered

Chapter Seven

1

Thunder roared, followed by a bright flash of lightning. Raindrops fell from the sky, loud like insects smashing against the glass, and the wind blow violently, sweeping small things out of its way.

Sarah sat at the edge of the bed, looking at the window, smelling the rain and feeling miserable. The smell of the rain didn't feel so good anymore. She missed the old days when she could run to the window, open it, and stand there, just looking at the rain falling and smelling its scent. But it was all different now. She wasn't excited about it—if anything she regarded it as forlorn rain, harsh, and violent.

She sniffed in, water gathering in her eyes. She looked sad, helpless, and confused. She sniffed in again, holding herself back from crying. Her life had drastically changed over the past one year, and she couldn't even seem to remember how it all started.

She was perfect. She was brilliant. She was practically every amazing thing wrapped up into one person. She had friends, she was in love, she was happy. But everything just flew away in a blink of an eye. She was ashamed of what she'd became. She was ashamed to let people know what she'd done. She was ashamed of herself. She hated herself. She despised this person called Sarah Wilson.

There were times when she could stand up, and speak like there were no consequences. The times when she wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. The times when she could laugh freely, cry about silly stuff, and make silly jokes.

All that drained out of her like a useless pipe in the middle of a desert, filled with nothing but hot sand. Like a dead riverbank. It was painful. It hurt in impossible ways.

The rain got harsher, trailed by continuous roars of thunder, and bolts of lightning.

2

The door to her bedroom opened, and a girl, Sarah's age walked in. She leaned against the door for a while, looking at Sarah with sad eyes.

"You can't keep doing this", the girl said. Sarah looked her way, and sighed.

"Thank you for coming, Cynthia", Sarah said, blinking back tears.

"Is that all you've to say?" Cynthia asked, flicking a hair behind her ear. She looked shocked.

"What else do you want me to say?" Sarah said, returning her gaze to the window. "Dad wanted you here."

"Ah, so, you didn't want me here, is that it?" She sounded hurt.

"That's not what I'm saying, Cynthia", Sarah defended, still glaring at the window. Tiny droplets of water rolling down the glass. "You were doing something, and I feel terrible that you're here and not there."

"I can still do it here", Cynthia said, then she sighed. "I wanted to see you anyways. You never called, never texted, or anything. You don't even answer any of my messages anymore."

"I'm sorry", Sarah said flatly. This conversation felt awkward to her. She felt like she was forcing herself to speak when she didn't want to say anything really. She loved the quiet now. Speaking was making her nervous.

Cynthia made a half choke, half chuckle full of disappointment. Sarah faced her, and stood up. She walked to Cynthia and hugged her.

"I'm sorry", she said again with empathy this time.

"What's going on, Sarah", Cynthia said as soon as Sarah broke the hug. "You can always talk to me—about anything. I'm your friend. I know we never got to be best friends but I'm here for you and I can be one if you want me to."