Becoming Sarah

by Simon, Miranda

  I hesitated. “What is it?”

  “Something that will make you feel good. It will help you loosen up.”

  I’d never used drugs, though I’d had plenty of chances. In my old neighborhood there was a dealer on every corner. I’d promised my mom I wouldn’t, and besides, I was terrified to do anything that might screw up my chance to go to college. And I needed to go to college so I could make so much money I’d never have to worry again. But now – what did it matter? I’d already been to college, or at least Sarah had. It’s not like I’d be letting my mother down now. In her mind, I was dead.

  With that thought came a surge of bitterness. How could a mother not know her own child? If I’d been twelve feet tall and purple, she should have known me. If I’d been badly burned and totally disfigured, she wouldn’t have turned me away. So why had she failed me now?

  “If you don’t want it. . .” Aurelie said.

  “I do.” I took the pill, slipped it between my lips, and gulped my drink. Anything to soothe away the pain and anger burning in my heart tonight.

  “No more of this, then.” Aurelie grabbed my drink and ordered me a glass of ice water. “Just wait. You’ll love it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  But I didn’t feel anything, even after we moved on to another bar. I was almost disappointed, until I started twisting a lock of my hair around my finger and noticed how very, very soft it was. Had it always been so soft? And Liza and Aurelie looked gorgeous tonight. They were such good friends. I really, really loved them.

  I told them this. Aurelie laughed. “Nice, huh?”

  “Oh, is this the pill?” The lights were so pretty. I loved everyone in the bar, especially the surfer guy I’d just met, Andrew. He had brown hair bleached at the tips and the softest, sweetest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Sleepy eyes. Sexy eyes.

  “So, like, how about we get out of here?” Andrew said, stroking my arm. His touch felt incredible, like he was stimulating every nerve ending in my body. I was sure no one had ever touched me like this before.

  “I don’t know –“

  “Go ahead, go.” Liza and Aurelie pushed me toward the door, giggling. “Have fun, Sarah.”

  We took a cab to my apartment. On the way, Andrew kissed me. His lips on my neck sent chills down my spine. I was melting into a gooey puddle. God, I wanted him. After Nick, I’d promised myself – but what was the big deal? I was an adult now. Adults did things like this all the time. Besides, Andrew was adorable. He didn’t talk much, and when he did it was to say things like, “Dude, there sure are a lot of stars out tonight,” but hey, nobody was perfect.

  We went upstairs. Andrew urged me toward the bedroom. Was this really happening? I didn’t want him to stop, but at the same time I felt vaguely uneasy. I pushed him away. “I need some water.”

  I stumbled to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of Evian from the fridge, and drank half of it in one gulp. Andrew followed me into the kitchen. His hands were everywhere. With regret, I gently pried his fingers off my body.

  “Look, Andrew, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

  “Whoa, dude, did I do something wrong?”

  “No, it’s not you. I just can’t.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, no problem. It’s cool.”

  Relieved that he wasn’t angry, I called him a cab and escorted him downstairs. On the steps of my building, I let him give me his phone number and kiss me one more time.

  When he broke away, I looked up to see Matt heading past us on his way inside. “Hi, Sarah,” he said, but not with his usual warm tone of voice.

  “Hi,” I said weakly. I’d run into him a couple of times in the past two weeks, but the last time we’d really talked I’d told him I couldn’t go out with him because I was with Nick. Now here I was kissing some total stranger.

  I said goodbye to Andrew and caught up with Matt on the stairs. “Look, that wasn’t what you’re thinking.”

  “It’s n-none of my business anyway.”

  “But I feel like I should explain –“

  “No need.” We were at his door now.

  For some reason, I didn’t want to say goodnight. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him what I hoped was a seductive look. “Matt, come on. It was nothing. Hey, want to come up? I really don’t feel like being alone right now.”

  He gave me a long, hard look as he let himself into his apartment. “Thanks, but no thanks. Maybe you should just go sleep it off.”

  I tried to play innocent. “Sleep what off?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Sarah. Good night.”

  He shut the door. I went upstairs, alone. I wished Matt hadn’t come home just then. I wished I'd gone to dinner with him that day two weeks ago. I wished he would look at me again like he had before -- admiringly, as if he saw something in me he liked.

  The next day I really hit bottom. I’d never felt more alone and miserable in my life. I lay in bed and thought mostly about my mother, but also about Matt and how I'd screwed up the chance that we could even be friends. I'd really made a mess of things. To make matters worse, I'd finished the active pills in Sarah's birth control packet two days ago, which meant I should be starting my period. Or should have it started already, maybe.

  I was just deciding I should go to the drugstore for a pregnancy test when there was a knock on my door. I jumped out of bed, pajamas and all. Matt? Who else wouldn't need me to buzz them in?

  I opened the door. Nick smiled at me and offered up a small, flat, gift-wrapped box. "Hi, Sarah. This is for you."

  "How did you get up here?" I demanded.

  "Some girl was on her way out. She let me in."

  "Oh." I stood there, torn between the urge to slam the door and the need to have someone, anyone, to talk to.

  "Well? Are you going to let me in? Or at least take this." He thrust the box into my hands.

  "What is it?"

  He grinned. "Open it."

  A bad idea, I know, but my curiosity got the better of me. I slid off the ribbon, tore into the wrapping paper, and eased open the box. A slender, jewel-studded bracelet sparkled against black velvet. I gasped. "Are those real diamonds?"

  "Only the best for my princess."

  He was smooth as silk, a real pro. Part of me recoiled at his oily insincerity. Even I could see it. But another part -- a weaker part -- wanted his pretty gift. I knew I should throw the bracelet in his face, but I hesitated.

  He seized on the hesitation. "Let me put it on you."

  His fingertips were cool on my wrist. He took his time fastening the clasp. His touch did something to me; without my permission, my body responded. Nick took a step inside, closing the space between us. The bracelet was on, but he wouldn't drop my wrist. He moved to kiss me. I didn't stop him.

  Later, when we lay together on my bed, I wished I had. I felt even worse than I had before he'd come to my door. It wasn't just that he was married, though that was a part of it. Worse was that I'd betrayed myself. Nick wasn't a good person; knowing that, I'd still let him back into my life.

  At least I had someone to share my worry. I rolled over to face Nick. "There's something I have to tell you."

  "Yeah?"

  "I -- I think I might be pregnant."

  Nick reacted as if I'd tried to stab him. He jumped up and backed away from me, grabbing for his clothes. "You what? Weren't you being careful?"

  "I guess I -- I missed a few pills."

  "How could you be so stupid? Damn it!"

  I clutched the sheet up around my chest. "It's your responsibility, too, not just mine! Besides, I said I might be. We need to get a test, you know, to find out for sure."

  "We? I don't think so." He was pulling on his clothes, buttoning his shirt. "This is your problem. You take care of it."

  "But -- but --"

  "Besides, it's probably not even my kid. Who knows how many guys you've been with lately?"

  "Oh!" I felt as if he'd slapped me. "How can you say that?"

  "Come on,
Sarah. We both know it's like a revolving door around here." He shoved his feet into his shoes. "You know what? You were right before. We’re over."

  He stalked out of the bedroom. A minute later, I heard my front door slam. I sat in bed for a long time, listening for him to come back.

  When he didn’t, I unhooked the bracelet he'd given me and dropped it back in the box.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I met Liza and Aurelie for lunch on Sunday. We’d arranged to get together at a cafe in North Beach, near Washington Square. It was the sort of place I was getting used to: cloth napkins, muted background music, the sound of clinking silverware and quiet conversation. They were both late, so I had time to sit and brood.

  Liza arrived first. She plopped herself down across from me and grinned. “So, how was it? Details! I must have details!”

  How had she heard about Nick so fast? It had just happened yesterday. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.

  Aurelie breezed in and joined us. “Don’t want to talk about what? That babe you had Friday night?”

  Oh, of course. Friday night.

  “Nothing happened. I sent him home.”

  “And wasted a good high? What a shame.” Aurelie shook her head.

  “Nothing happened. Not with him.” Despite their teasing, I needed to confide in someone. “But Nick came over the next morning. . .”

  “You didn’t!” Liza shrieked.

  Aurelie laughed. “You little slut, you.”

  I wasn’t laughing. “This is serious, you guys. I – I don’t know what to do.”

  Liza patted my arm, but she couldn’t stop giggling. “Sorry.”

  I jerked my arm away. “Really, I mean it. Why can’t you ever be serious?”

  Aurelie made a pouting mouth as she picked up the menu. “Poor baby.”

  Right now, more than anything, I wanted Maria’s sympathetic ear. She knew how to listen, really listen. When my mom was on one of her binges, Maria was always there for me, no matter what. And she didn’t just listen. She came over and helped me clean the apartment. She brought me pans of her mother’s chile rellanos. She was a real friend. These two. . . .

  “And another thing,” I said, not bothering to hide my anger. “I don’t appreciate you giving me drugs and letting me go off with some stranger. He could have been a total psycho!”

  “Nah.” Liza shrugged. “He was too hot to be a serial killer.”

  “Besides,” Aurelie added, “you’re a big girl. I didn’t force you to take that pill.”

  She was right, which only upset me more. “Still, it was a lousy thing to do. I don’t know why I hang out with you guys.”

  Liza shrugged. “So don’t.”

  “Maybe I won’t.” I stood up and pushed back my chair. “You know what? You aren’t really my friends. Friends don’t treat people like this.” My voice rose until half the restaurant was staring at us. “In fact, you can just both go to hell.”

  Liza gave me an icy stare. “You’re no fun these days anyway. You’ve changed, Sarah, and not for the better.”

  “It’s true,” Aurelie chimed in. “You’re different.”

  Emotion choked me up. I cleared my throat. “You’re right. I have changed. If you ask me, it’s about time. I’m tired of being a doormat. I’ve had enough of being used, and encouraged to make stupid choices.”

  Liza rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “Don’t call me,” I said, as I stalked away.

  “We won’t,” Aurelie yelled after me.

  “God, what a bitch,” Liza said, loud enough for me to hear.

  As I pushed open the front door and plunged out to the sidewalk, I heard them laughing.

  So I’d burned all my bridges. Now I was really alone.

  I’d lost my mother and Maria. I’d lost Sarah’s friends, her lover, and my neighbor Matt – the one person in my new life I’d actually liked. In my dreams I died again and again, while my murderer walked free. Plus, I might be pregnant by a man who wanted nothing to do with me.

  As night fell, I wandered into the bathroom. I’d spent another afternoon sobbing into my pillow and eating ice cream. I peered into the mirror on the medicine cabinet. My face was puffy, my eyes red and irritated. I didn’t think I looked so beautiful anymore.

  What was the point, anyway? Why go on, with nothing to look forward to?

  I opened the medicine cabinet and stared at Sarah’s bottles of medication. One caught my eye. Sleeping pills. Maybe they would make me feel better.

  I snapped off the cap and poured a few of the pills into my hand. I filled a glass with water and took one of them. If one helped me sleep, wouldn’t more help me sleep longer? I took another. No dreams for me tonight. Why not another? And another? I could make this all go away. I could put an end to it. I swallowed a third pill, and a fourth. I wasn’t really thinking, just trying to kill the pain in my heart. A fifth pill, but as it went down I retched and began to cry.

  God, what was I doing? I stared at my face – Sarah’s gorgeous face – in the mirror. Tears coursed down my cheeks. How had I come to this? I really wanted to die. No, I just wanted to sleep and not wake up.

  “No,” I whispered. “No, this is her. This isn’t me.”

  A few weeks ago, with Ricky’s fingers on my neck, I’d wanted more than anything to go on living. Somehow, magically, I’d gotten my wish. So what was I doing now? I didn’t want this. Maybe Sarah’s body did, but not me, not Jamie.

  I knelt over the toilet. I shoved a finger down my throat until I gagged. The pills came back up, and the water with it.

  With shaking hands, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Something was wrong with me. As Jamie, I’d had rough times, but I’d never seriously thought about suicide. Yet, after two weeks as Sarah, I’d nearly done myself in.

  Back in the ninth grade, I’d had a science teacher who liked to ask us hard questions. He’d stalk around the classroom, his hands behind his back. “Is biology destiny?” he’d ask. “Do murderers have a murder gene? Are some people just naturally stupid, others smart?”

  I remember raising my hand. “Lumley!” he thundered. “Tell us what you think.”

  “No,” I said.

  “No, what?”

  “No, biology isn’t destiny. A murderer chooses to kill. Maybe it’s true that some people are smarter than others, but you can always study harder.”

  Now I thought of that class discussion and wondered if I’d been wrong. As I changed into sweatpants and climbed up in bed, I wondered if suicide was Sarah’s biological destiny.

  I curled up into a fetal position, my knees pulled against my chest. What if there was something wrong with Sarah’s body, something chemically wrong?

  What if – and these words were a whisper in the back of my skull, spoken by a small voice I didn’t want to hear – what if it wasn’t Sarah’s body at all, but the terrible, wrenching thing that had happened to me, to Jamie, in an alley on the way home from work?

  I pictured myself a few minutes earlier, popping pill after pill into my mouth. How had I come to that? I hadn’t been so scared since I woke up on Sarah’s bathroom floor.

  It was a wake up call.

  I needed to get my life together, and fast.

  No sooner had I made that decision than I felt a wetness between my thighs. I sat up, turned on the light, and found my underpants stained with blood.

  Not pregnant. Thank God for small favors, anyway.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The next morning, I took my problems one at a time.

  First I made an appointment with a psychiatrist. Not the same one Sarah had seen -- too hard to fool -- but a new one. Last night I'd scared myself. This thing that was happening to me was too big to handle alone. I needed someone who could prescribe something to keep me balanced, to keep me from falling over the edge again.

  I found a recommendation for a nearby psychiatrist, Dr. Riley, on a website. When I called her office, I said it was urgent. The receptionis
t said the doctor had had a last-minute cancellation and could see me that same afternoon.

  Next, I rounded up all my bills, the ones Sarah had let build up as well as the ones I was responsible for. In the past two weeks I'd let the finances go. I'd shopped to feel better, to forget my worries, and I'd managed to eat up a huge chunk of Sarah's monthly check. If I was careful for the next couple of weeks, I figured, I could get things under control.

  After that, I went back online. I wanted to know what was happening in my murder case, and I could hardly call up Detective Todd to ask.

  As soon as I sat down at Sarah’s computer again, I had another idea. Sarah must have had a email account. I tried Yahoo, then Gmail. If I was lucky – yes, her computer logged her on to Gmail automatically, no password needed. Her inbox was full of junk mail, ads for Viagra and dating services, but when. I opened Sarah's "Sent Mail" folder there was one message, a quick note to Liza: "Hey girl, can you believe I lost your new cell #? Call me."

  Not very revealing.

  I checked one last folder, called "Drafts". Bingo! A letter to a guy whose name I didn't recognize, dated three weeks ago. It thrilled me to read Sarah's actual words, to finally get a peek into her mind.

  Dear Aaron,

  Sorry if I freaked you out the other night. I have some crazy things going on in my life right now. I can totally understand if you don't ever want to cross my path again, but I hope you'll let me explain.

  Do you ever feel like your life is spinning so badly out of control that things can never be right again? I feel like that every day. I feel like the whole world's closing in on me. I'm this person I don't even want to be. I do things and then I can't believe that was me.

  I guess that doesn't really explain why I acted the way I did with you. I just wanted to say I'm sorry.

  She'd signed the email "Yours, Sarah", but never sent it. I figured I would never know who Aaron was, or what she'd done to him. Still, her words gave me goose bumps up and down my arms. I did know the feelings she'd described. I was still feeling them. It seemed almost as though this e-mail was a message to me, a letter from beyond death.