a/n: This was originally written for Table for Four, but never really found a home in that story.
Innocence
1984
"Mo-om!" Thirteen year old Sarah Swarek hollered from her upstairs bedroom where she was trying the third hairstyle in as many hours. She was supposed to go to Suzanne Ramirez's house tonight for movies and Suzy's brother Jesse was a total stud. "Sam won't get out of my room!"
Nine year old Sam was currently laying on his sister's floor, trying to decide which of her Barbie dolls would make the best hostage for the game of cops and robbers he was playing. He finally decided on a blonde doll in a white cowgirl outfit. She was the Sheriff's wife he decided as he pulled her out of the hot pink jeep.
"MOM!" Sarah screamed, "Make him leave!" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sam grab the Barbie Doll. "He's stealing my stuff!"
Moving as fast as his legs would carry him, Sam dodged Sarah's attempt to grab him and escaped in to the hallway. Only to run straight into his mother. He tucked the Barbie behind his back and gave her his best innocent smile.
"Not buying it mister." His mom said, her eyes soft despite the firm set of her features. "Give it here."
Sighing loudly, Sam handed his mother the Barbie. "I wasn't going to break it." He said sullenly.
"Yeah right!" Sarah scoffed from the doorway of her room. She'd settled on a side ponytail that puffed out of the left side of her head like a golden pom-pom. Sam thought she looked ridiculous. "Like you didn't wreck my Popples?"
Sam looked down and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Not that he would ever admit it, but using Sarah's Popples to play fetch with the neighbour's golden lab had probably been a bad idea. "I just needed a hostage!" He insisted, glaring at his sister. Sometimes he wished he didn't have a sister at all. She was always tattling on him and telling him to go away any time something interesting happened.
"Why can't you use one of your own toys, Sammy?" His mother asked, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure one of your Nimjong reptiles would work just as well."
"Ninja Turtles." Sam corrected her sullenly. "And they are warriors, they would never get caught. I need something stupid, like Barbie!"
"Well if you want to borrow one of Sarah's toys, what should you say?"
"Sarah, can I please borrow one of your dolls?" Sam's voice dripped with misery. Where was the fun in begging for something you could steal?
"No way, dork!" Sarah said, turning on her heel and slamming her door behind her.
"Mom!" Sam protested.
"Sorry sweetie." Mrs. Swarek ruffled her son's hair. "Maybe tomorrow." She checked her watch, "you should probably get ready for Joe's party today anyway. It starts in half an hour."
Still feeling like he had won the battle but lost the war, Sam shuffled back to his bedroom. Near the foot of his bed he had set up a makeshift bank where The Joker, The Penguin, and Mr. Freeze were pulling off a heist. On the other side of the room a troop of GI Joes were working with Batman, the Ninja Turtles and a couple transformers to stop them before they got away with all of the town's money. For the moment, Sam picked up the good guys and put them all in a shoebox labelled 'GI Joes' and all the bad guys in another box, this one stolen from the garage and labelled 'Family Photos.'
Fifteen minutes later Sam was dressed in a clean shirt and blue jeans. His black hair was freshly brushed and reasonably tidy.
The door to his room swung open quickly, bouncing off the wall with a bang. Sarah stood in the doorway, arms crossed sullenly across her chest, looking seriously pissed off. "Come on, mom says I have to walk you to the Perkins' before I can go to Suzy's."
Sam smiled a little. Even though she was annoyed about it, he was happy it was Sarah and not mom or dad walking him to the party. Sarah was four years older than him, a teenager and according to everyone but Sam, really beautiful. Having Sarah drop him off at the party would mean instant star status, even if she was his sister and only doing it because she had to.
The Swarek house was only two blocks away from the Perkin's place. From there it was another three blocks to the park. Sarah's best friend Suzy lived on the far side of the park. They'd walked this walk together dozens of times. Sarah dropping him at Joe's place on her way to Suzy's and picking him up on her way home. She was thirteen so no one felt she needed a parent to go with her for such a short walk.
That night was no different. Sarah waited until Mrs. Perkins opened the door and waved Sam in and then set out for Suzy's. She was excited to see her friend, but more exciting than a girl's night was Suzy's eighteen year old brother Jessie who was home from Carlton for the summer. Sarah had had a crush on Jesse Ramirez since she was eleven. He was funny and nice to her and extremely attractive. And tonight, Sarah felt like he would finally notice her. She hadn't seen him since Christmas. Since then she'd developed breasts (an A cup!) and learned how to sneak out of the house with makeup on. Tonight she'd stolen mom's bright red lipstick. It took only a few seconds with the small mirror she carried in her mini backpack to apply a coat of bright colour to her lips and a coat of thick black mascara on her eyelashes.
She looked good. Which was why she didn't think anything of it when a group of teenage boys tracked her with their eyes as she strutted across the baseball field at Moss park. When one of them wolf whistled she added an extra dose of hip to her walk. It was nice to be appreciated. It wasn't until she realized all three boys had rise to their feet and were following her through the park that Sarah thought something might be wrong.
Stealing a quick look over her shoulder, Sarah picked up her pace. It didn't help. Their legs were longer than hers and they caught up quickly. "Where you goin'?" The tallest boy leered at her, his blue eyes running over her body as if they could see right through.
Sarah dropped her head and tried to walk faster.
"What's the matter?" The tall blonde leader stepped in front of her, forcing Sarah to turn quickly to avoid hitting him.
"Thinks she's better than us." His friend stuck a foot out in an attempt to trip her.
"Is that it?" The blonde grabbed Sarah's ponytail and yanked, hard. So hard that she staggered sideways. "Think you're too good for me, do you?" He leaned so close she could smell pepperoni on his breath.
"Let me go." Sarah swatted at the older boy but her resistance only increased his grip on her hair.
"Watch the claws, slut," he snarled.
She tried to twist out of his grasp, but a tug at her hair toppled her backwards. Sarah's scream was cut off abruptly as her back thudded against the ground with enough force to take her breath away.
o o o
A golden retriever found her. Curled in the fetal position, the tattered remnants of her clothes held tightly around her like armour. It barked madly, tail doing cheerful circles until its owner came to investigate.
The dog's owner called for help, refusing to leave the side of the frightened teen who wouldn't even open her eyes. A jogger heard him, and knocked on a neighbour's door until they answered and called for an ambulance.
No one thought to call the police.
It took twenty minutes for the ambulance to arrive. The dog owner and three other pedestrians waited in a worried huddle. Talking in hushed tones, though they needn't have bothered. Sarah was deaf to the world.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, matched only by the high pitched ringing that had started when her head hit the ground and refused to stop. The blackness of her eyelids could not block out the images. They played a constant loop, quick and jerky like those films they always showed on Remembrance Day of soldiers jerking to a stop and collapsing dead in fields of mud and other dead bodies. The boys leaning over her, ripping her clothes, hitting her, kicking her, pulling down their pants, thrusting into her with manic grins on their ugly faces. The images played over and over and over until she wanted to claw out her eyes, only she knew that wouldn't stop it.
The paramedics came at a run, a stretcher bouncing across the grass between them. They were both male, in their twenties, they'd never seen anything like this before. One knelt beside her, told her in his most soothing voice who he was, and reached to take her pulse.
Sarah registered nothing but the male voice and the warm fingers against her skin. She jerked backwards with a shriek, lashing out with both hands.
The paramedic stumbled backwards to avoid being hit. "It's okay. We're here to help you!" he cried.
Sarah stared at him, eyes round, pupils dilated. Her breath came in sharp panicky pants.
A woman among the onlookers walked over to Sarah, stopping a few feet away and crouching so she was at eye level. "You're hurt, these men need to take you to the hospital." She explained softly, hoping her sex would make her less intimidating. "Can you tell me your name?"
"S-s-Sarah." It was so soft they almost missed it. "S-Sarah Sw-Swarek."
"Okay Sarah," the second paramedic said in a cheerful tone, he held out a blanket to her.
Sarah took it warily, and wrapped it around her shoulders, covering her body with the scratchy grey fabric.
"We need to take you to the hospital, and call your parents."
Sarah nodded. The pounding in her ears had died down, adrenaline fueled panic slowly ebbing. In its place came bone deep exhaustion and a desire to cry until she couldn't cry any more.
The paramedics helped her up and on to the stretcher. They covered her with two layers of blankets before strapping her into place and wheeling her back across the grass to the ambulance. They kept up a steady stream of reassuring comments and general questions, but Sarah heard none of it.
She lay back and watched the sky pass by, distorted through a fog of unshed tears.
o o o
"David!" Mrs. Swarek's voice was shrill and panicked.
Mr. Swarek rushed into the kitchen. "What is it, Margaret?"
She was white as a sheet, standing frozen with the phone in one hand. "That was the hospital... Sarah's hurt."
The words took a moment to penetrate, when they did he felt like he might be sick. His little girl was in the hospital. "Did they say what happened?" He asked.
She shook her head, "They found her in Moss Park..." she dropped the phone. It bounced against the wall a few times as it settled.
David half reached for it, to hang it up properly, in case someone called and then stopped. His baby girl was in the hospital. "Grab your coat." He said reaching for the car key's he'd thrown down on the kitchen table twenty minutes earlier when he'd arrived home from work.
Traffic was mercifully light all the way to the hospital and they made it in one piece, though neither could have told you if they stopped at any red lights. They pulled into a parking space outside of the emergency room and ran inside, not bothering to feed the meter.
A nurse in pink scrubs behind a desk sent them to bed five where Sarah lay on the stretcher. She'd changed into a hospital gown, and a nurse had washed away most of the dirt and blood from her face and arms, but she looked wane and her limbs trembled. When she saw her mother, the tears she'd been holding back began to fall and would not stop.
Mrs Swarek threw down her purse and climbed awkwardly onto the stretcher, pulling her only daughter against her chest. Cradling her close as she sobbed.
o o o
"Sammy," Mrs. Perkins pulled Sam to the side of the living room. "That was your mom on the phone, you're going to stay with us tonight, okay?"
Sam shrugged, only half listening, his attention almost entirely on the group of boys huddled around Joe's new transformer. "Yes Mrs. Perkins." He said politely.
She smiled at him sympathetically. "You can borrow Joe's pajamas."
"Okay."
With a final motherly squeeze at his arm, Mrs. Perkins let Sam return to the party.
o o o
"Can I get you anything sweetheart?" Mrs. Swarek stood in the doorway to her daughter's room. It had been three days since the terrible night they'd been called to the hospital and told by a surly doctor that their daughter had been attacked. Three painful days in which Sarah had kept to her room and spoken only when asked a direct question, and even then it was at half her normal volume.
Sarah's head shook minutely. Her blank gaze never leaving the TV set her father had dragged up to her room to keep her entertained.
"You haven't eaten anything all day. How about some hot chocolate?" Hot chocolate was Sarah's favourite drink in the whole world.
Again the minute shake of the head.
"Mommy?" Sam's voice behind her caused Mrs. Swarek to turn.
She forced a smile she didn't feel. Poor Sam did not understand what had happened. He kept trying to engage his sister in their usual antagonism, but she hadn't even protested when he'd stolen her favourite Barbie. "Yes, sweetie?"
His dark eyes were serious. "Why is Sarah sad?"
Mrs. Swarek swallowed against the painful lump in her throat. Her eyes burned and she wasn't sure she could speak without crying. She knelt down and pulled Sam against her in a tight hug. "Sarah was hurt by a really bad man, Sammy. We're going to have to be very kind to her, okay?"
She felt his head nodding against her. A tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped it away and told herself to be strong. She could cry later. Right now her kids needed her. Forcing a cheerful smile on her face she let Sam go, "Why don't you come downstairs with me and we'll make Sarah's favourite cookies?"
Sam's face lit up. "To make Sarah happy?"
"Yes, Sammy." She patted his head. "You go on downstairs and wash your hands. I'll be there in a minute." She lasted only until he disappeared from view before slumping against the wall and letting the tears flow.