I don't think I've ever been in such a state of
Horror.
--
First I was scared.
How
—Why?—
Could anyone harm Sara Sidle?
--
But then,
Of course,
It turned to an undeniable hatred
Of
Natalie Davis.
--
I wanted to
Kill
Her.
--
I wanted to douse her bare body in
Bleach
And watch her squirm.
--
I wanted to make her
Swallow
The stuff and die within her own feared poison.
--
I
Wanted
Her
Dead.
--
As the day
The horrible, terrible nightmare
Unfolded, my panic grew.
What was to become of
Sara?
What would happen to the woman we'd come
To know and to
Love?
--
I clutched my arms with nails like razors,
Protecting my chest against the daggers of the screen
The poisons of Sara's sure death.
But would it come?
--
As Sara's lover and dear colleagues searched for her location,
She walked painfully away,
Delusional, sick and dehydrated.
She was ill.
She would die.
--
But Nick found her.
--
Nick, angel upon angels, found her.
--
He jumped madly out of his vehicle and rushed to her side,
Franticly checking for a pulse,
Talking to her,
Crying to her,
Getting her blood on his sleeves.
--
He saved her.
And he saved me.
