Ever, Sarah

by Hansen, C. E.

  I held the small blade out like a knife, knowing I would have to get close in order to use it, but if I had to, I would.

  Brad. Where was Brad?

  Brad would be here if he were okay.

  He must have hurt Brad.

  He could be dea…STOP!

  I refused to think that.

  He is alive.

  He has to be.

  I felt the anger inside me slowly build and I stepped out of the closet into the bedroom and cautiously looked around. I could feel the terror attack my body from the inside as my brain scrambled to think clearly, but my resolve grew. He was still shouting from the hallway. I was sure he was simultaneously watching each exit. From that point, he would have a good view of both closet doors as well as the bedroom door.

  There was no other exit.

  I had to think.

  I had to use what little wit I had left.

  I had to find Brad.

  I moved slowly over towards the door, picking up a bottle of cologne from my dresser and held it in my free hand. I walked slowly up to the bedroom door.

  I could hear him pacing, his footsteps walking back and forth between the two doors nearly paralyzed me with fear. I couldn’t think straight. I shook my head violently and took a deep breath.

  This is it Sarah. You need to help Brad. No matter what!

  I turned the lock on the doorknob, praying it wouldn’t click signaling my exit. It did make a small sound, but I was relieved that he chose to shout just then. The sound of his voice covered the click of metal on metal as the lock was released. I looked down the hallway. There was an opening about three feet where he would be able to see me if he were looking. I prayed he would be guarding the doors on either side of the back hallway as I slid through his field of vision.

  I slunk along the wall, my back pressed forcefully against the hard surface, stopping where the one hallway opened to the adjacent hall leading down to the front steps. I took a deep breath and listened. He was ranting, I could hear him pacing back and forth, like a tiger waiting for its prey to fall out of the tree; ever patient, ever diligent.

  After a few seconds of listening, I began to recognize when he would turn and walk back towards the end, then turn and walk towards where I stood. I waited for just the right moment and with my body tense and my eyes closed, I slid across the floor.

  After I got to the other side, I slowly, quietly let my breath out, all the while listening to make sure he was still pacing. I closed my eyes with relief when I heard him at the end of the hallway.

  “Ssssssssssaaaaarahhhhhhhhhhh.” He loudly hissed my name, spitting the words out between his teeth and I knew it was the creepiest sound I’d ever heard. But instead of hitting its mark and scaring me, it made me stronger, it made me angry.

  This motherfucker. This sick, twisted psycho fucker.

  Who the hell did he think he was, Hannibal Lecter?

  He may think he’s got me, but I will make him pay.

  I slowly slid my socked feet along the wooden floor, in a skiing motion, and after what seemed like a lifetime, finally reached the landing at the top of the stairs.

  I leaned over and looked down.

  I saw Brad’s body sprawled across the floor, lying still and immediately clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle the gasp.

  He was too still.

  He lay face down in a pool of his own blood, the halo that circled his head slowly spreading across the surface of the floor.

  I breathed in deeply, making sure not to exhale audibly. I knew I had to get him help right away that the blood loss was too great.

  I quickly glanced across the room and spotted his cell on the table where he’d left it after talking to the detective.

  I took one step at a time. All the while praying there isn’t a squeaky floorboard that would give me away.

  This is where having one’s memory would be useful.

  I clenched my elbow and arm against the railing and took one step after the other.

  “Ssssssssaaaarrrahhhhhhh! I killed your mister perfect. Now it’s just you and me!”

  He sounded almost childlike in his taunting.

  I closed my eyes briefly and hoped I had the courage to do what I needed to do. I wanted this fucker dead.

  Brad was still alive, he had to be.

  I chanted that over and over in my head like a mantra.

  I had to believe that.

  But he was lying was so still. I strained, but wasn’t able to see his chest rise and fall. I felt the tears threaten, but fought them back, refusing to let them fall.

  I will not be a victim again.

  I continued to take one step at a time. And when I got down to the last step, I glanced up and in that second, I knew that I could run out the front door.

  I could get away.

  I could escape.

  But I knew I’d have no life worth living if I left Brad here to die.

  I loved him.

  That much I knew about myself.

  I knew that my life without him would be nothing and I’d rather not live than be nothing. I’ve been lost inside myself for too long and it was time to make some changes.

  I stood up slowly and slid on the floor over to the table and picked up Brad’s cell. I stopped and nearly screamed when I saw the amount of blood.

  I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat and I had to fight back my need to reach out and touch him, I couldn’t move him. And that son of a bitch upstairs would definitely hear me if I tried.

  I turned my ear in the direction where I knew Kevin to be. The volume of his voice was louder, the tone more menacing. I could tell that his anger was building. He was looking for release.

  He was stomping now and I knew I had very little time to act. I shuffled into the kitchen and placed my nail file and cologne on the counter. I slowly backed out the doorway walked into the laundry room and calmly dialed 911. Making sure to keep my voice to a whisper.

  “911, what is your emergency?”

  “There is a man in our home. He is threatening to kill us.” I said calmly.

  “Ma’am, please stay on the phone with me. I’m dispatching a unit to your location.”

  “He’s hurt my fiancé, you need to send an ambulance.”

  “Ma’am, are you in a safe place?”

  “Please hurry, he’s going to kill me.”

  I killed the call and walked out of the laundry room, picking up my bottle of cologne off the counter.

  “Am I in a safe place? I am, but that bastard isn’t”

  “Asshole!” I called out; it was my turn to taunt. I took a deep breath and planned what I’d do all out in my head.

  For a few seconds there was silence and I knew he heard me but was trying to figure out where the hell I was. I was sure I knocked him off his game. This was his thing, he was the one used to scaring the little girls. Well, fuck him!

  I got my calm during those few precious seconds.

  “Ssssssaaarahhhhhh.” his hissing was beginning to get on my last nerve. Sarah, darling, baby. Love of my life. You fucking cunt, where are you?”

  I cringed at the use of his last endearment.

  I hated that word.

  I hated the man who used it more.

  The man who killed innocent women.

  The man who tried to kill me.

  “I’m down here you bastard. Come get me!” I shouted.

  I knew there was no one that would hear me. I knew that the police were at least five minutes out…and I knew that I wanted him to pay.

  I took one look at Brad lying on the floor, with his head still bleeding, and I knew time was not on my side. I needed to get him help and I needed to do it now.

  I heard the sound of his heavy footsteps on the back staircase and my brain went into shock mode. It was like everything inside me went into slow motion. That setting that your brain takes when it knows something evil is this way coming. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight and I had time for one las
t deep breath.

  His feet pounded down step after step, slowly. Like he wanted to take his time, draw it out.

  I stood at one end of the kitchen, the one closest to the garage.

  “When I woke and you were gone, I got so worried.” He said as he stepped into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, worried the police would catch you. You coward!”

  “You’d better watch your tone with me my sweet.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” I said as calmly as shattered nerves allowed and for a moment, he had to think. Think about what I was saying.

  “You left me in a bad way my love.”

  “I left you alive, which is more than I can say for Mary, Tanya and Julia.”

  I was frightened beyond words; my wet jeans, a testimony to that. But I was also angry. So angry I could do things I never ever thought I could before.

  “You took my life from me. You robbed me of my memories, of a happy time, when I was…” I didn’t recognize the high-pitched screech that came rolling out of my mouth.

  “I took nothing you weren’t so eager to give. Bitch!”

  He advanced towards me and I stepped back.

  This was so odd, Brad lay inside and we were having an insane conversation just feet from his bleeding body.

  “You walked past me like you thought you were better than me.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t pay attention.”

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t accept….my gifts…you didn’t…me.”

  “You are right.”

  I could see he was confused.

  I sucked that in.

  It gave me power.

  It gave me purpose.

  “You are shit. You are a worthless shit. You stole my life from me and now you are going to pay…with your life.”

  “Listen, princess, you would be nothing…”

  “YOU ARE NOTHING!” I screamed as loud as I could, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings and tall walls.

  The hurt look that flashed across his features didn’t go unnoticed by me, but it was quickly replaced by bewilderment. He looked like a child who was just chastised by an angry parent.

  I heard the sirens in the distance, and I noticed so did Kevin/Paul.

  “So Kevin…Paul, whatever you’re calling yourself these days. You like to hurt women? Prey on us like some evil animal?” I didn’t give him time to answer, “Do you feel powerful and strong when we can’t fight back? And you make sure of that by keeping us drugged, you fucking coward. You take. That’s what you do. You take.”

  “You stupid bitch. Who do you think you are? You would be nothing without constant adoration. I know your type. I see it on the streets every day. Walking past me waving your ass’s in the air… You all sway your asses, looking for attention.”

  “I swayed nothing, you fucking pervert. I wanted to be left alone. But no, you couldn’t take no for an answer. Did you steal my panties when I was nearly dead? Are you that depraved you piece of shit?”

  The sound of the sirens on the main road caused us both to look briefly at the front door.

  “You were mine. I loved you; I know you would have loved me too. We just needed time.”

  The switch, change of his maniacal mind could be heard outside his head. It was like a loud tick. I swallowed hard.

  “I was never yours. I always loved Brad.” I took a backwards glance at Brad and the tears slipped down my face, Brad forgive me. I cringed when I noticed he still wasn’t moving and I was willing to die with him. “I want to give you something to remember me though. I need you to do one last thing for me.”

  “You need me?”

  “I do.”

  He stepped closer. The sirens were close. We could hear them on the driveway.

  I stared at him like he was the last man alive.

  “You do?” He seemed distant. His eyes glazed over as if he was lost inside his own world. “You are right, I do need you.”

  I tightened the grip of my hand holding the small, slim blade, and held it close to my side. I smiled warmly at him and stepped closer. He was disarmed by the change in my tone.

  Little by little I raised my left hand with the cologne in it and before he could process what was happening, I sprayed two or three pumps into his eyes. “I need you to die.”

  He raised his hands to his face screaming, dropping the knife he was holding. It clanged loudly as it bounced on the ceramic tile.

  “You fucking cunt. You bitch. I’ll kill you; just like the others…I thought you were different. I thought…YOU CUNT!”

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.” I took the nail file I was holding and brought it up to his head then plunged it down into his neck.

  The moment when the point penetrated his skin made me shudder, but I pushed it up to the hilt into his neck.

  He fell to his knees grabbing his throat, and I slowly pulled it out. Blood spurted through the small hole it left, but I could see by the amount of blood pulsing from the small wound that I hit the artery. I held it up, prepared to plunge it into his eyes should I need to, but when I saw him fall to his knees and slump slowly to the floor I let it fall to the floor.

  The little tingle sound it made as it bounced off the tile floor, ironically landing next to the large butcher knife he carried, was softly deafening.

  I leaned in and whispered close to his ear.

  “Fuuuuuucccckkk Yoooouuuuu! DIE!” I hissed.

  I pushed him over using my foot, like I was kicking garbage to the side. He fell to his side whimpering, holding his hands over his gaping wound. I didn’t look back.

  I turned and ran to Brad’s side.

  “Brad! Wake up Brad.” I yelled. “Bradley Hunter, if you die I will kill you!” I could hear the panic rise in voice.

  “Bradley!!!!”

  He moaned and I nearly fainted with relief.

  “Brad?!”

  “Sarah?” His voice was so weak. I began to shake. It felt as though all the adrenaline that had been building up in my body since I found out Kevin was here was released at once. I didn’t think I had the strength needed to stand.

  I held his head in my arms and lowered my body to his.

  “Bradley, promise me you won’t leave me.” I was wailing.

  Nothing.

  “Bradley. Please!”

  “Sarah. You okay.”

  “I’m okay, if you’re okay.”

  “Still corny.” He mumbled before he passed out.

  I laughed.

  It was a strange laugh, like a twittering.

  It was a release.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I sat up on my knees and cradled his head in my arms. My tears were falling rapidly now and I could feel my body rack to and fro with sobs. I bent to kiss his forehead.

  “I love you Brad.” I brushed his hair from his eyes, it was soaked with blood but I didn’t care. I needed to touch him, feel him.

  I almost fell backwards when I heard a pop, a very loud pop.

  I turned around to see Kevin collapse like a sack of flour on the floor. A tiny rivulet of blood ran from the hole in the front of his forehead down his face into his gaping mouth.

  I was unable to turn away. It was like watching a horror movie unfold in front of me. Only this piece of film noir had a hold on me. I stared at his form, the new wound bled out the back of his head profusely, where all those horrific things he had done to all those women ran out of his head.

  The front? Well, that’s where the right went in pushing the wrong out as far as I was concerned.

  “You don’t know me at all.” I said hoarsely, well aware he couldn’t hear me.

  I looked briefly at the detective at the front door, who was still pointing the gun at a motionless Kevin.

  “Can someone help me please? Help him. Help him, please.” I was begging now.

  The chaos that ensued was nothing short of a circus. The police, without hesitation, ushered the ambulance attendants ove
r to where Brad lay. I was pulled back to allow them access to attend to him. I closed my eyes and prayed so hard my eyes hurt and my head pounded in my temples. All I wanted was for him to be okay.

  Police, detectives, ambulance attendants, CSI—fiber and analysis—collecting every bit of evidence they could. The detectives didn’t let me leave with the ambulance, although I fought tooth and nail to be with Bradley. They needed me to stay and explain the file, the red festering eyes. They wanted to know every detail on how the dead man came to be lying in my kitchen with a fatal wound to the neck.

  The dead man was evil. I told them. I just kept on repeating that over and over. I think I did this to make my guilt a little less intense.

  Was I sorry I killed him?

  I haven’t come to grips with that yet, but I am glad I never have to worry about him hurting us again.

  What did he say?

  Did he confess?

  I lied of course.

  I told them he told me everything.

  He told me how he used women. How he lured them in with sweetness and lies. I told them how he drugged me and most likely did the same to them. I didn’t owe him the truth; I didn’t owe him anything.

  The only people I owed anything to were the women who died so I didn’t have to, who deserved a chance to live their lives and never got that chance. They did nothing wrong…their only fault is that they needed someone. He saw that about them and used it to his advantage.

  I owe my mother for being there, always, and Bradley. Especially Bradley, who believed me through everything and gave me back my life.

  Talk about fate taking a wrong turn, I found myself sitting in a chair next to Brad’s bed in the hospital. Waiting.

  Ronnie…’mother,’ kept me company while I refused to leave Brad’s side. I had a cot brought in so that I could stay with him. The hospital staff tried to give me a little grief, stating Brad needed quiet time, but my hand shot in the air effectively silencing them.

  My ‘mother’ said, “I wouldn’t, she’s been through hell and back.” And that gave me the time with Brad I needed.

  She kept trying to get me to eat, but I had no interest. Funny, I never thought I’d have no interest in food. Of course I ate some soup and a few bites of a sandwich here and there to appease her.