When Sara Sidle was nine years old, her mother's friend Michelle had a baby. Sara had never particularly liked Michelle, so she wasn't entirely sure why she had chosen to go along with her mother to visit Michelle. She didn't believe in fate yet. When Sara and her mother arrived at Michelle's house, it was dim and quiet and the TV was flickering in the background. The baby was in a basket near Michelle's feet, and Sara sat near the basket, studying the baby with mild interest.
"What's her name?" she asked of Michelle, tracing her smallest finger across the baby's forehead.
"Sidney," Michelle replied, watching Sara watching Sidney. "Do you want to hold her?"
"Uh. Sure." Sara had never held a baby, and wasn't even particularly interested, but she knew from experience that saying "I don't want to hold your baby" didn't go over well with anyone. Michelle instructed her to sit on the couch with her back straight, which Sara did. Michelle smiled at her and then placed the wriggling bundle in Sara's arms. Sara immediately decided that this was incredibly delicate material, so she cupped the baby's head and studied her miniscule, delicate features with some wonder. She'd never been up close with a newborn baby before and she wondered how anything could possibly be made so small. She even had miniature fingernails, and miniature eyelashes. Everything about this thing was tiny, and Sara couldn't help feeling a tiny tingle of something she'd know later as love.
After that first visit to Michelle and Sidney, Sara would try to go and see them every day. Her mother didn't bother to question her daughter's sudden interest in the person she'd had a vehement dislike for for the past nine years of her life, because at least she was displaying interest in people. In truth, Sara didn't care about Michelle just yet. She was very interested in Sidney's growth and development, the way she'd smile every time Sara talked to her, the way Sidney was developing an odd sense of humor already, the way she rolled over and moved and grew from a miniature to an almost-regular-sized person. By the time Sidney was a year old, she would squeal and hold her arms out for Sara whenever Sara walked past. By that time, Sara had gotten over her dislike for Michelle and started talking to her. Michelle enjoyed the company of the little girl with the big mind, the little girl who saw the world as some sort of puzzle instead of a temporary home. She was unfailingly amused by Sara's questions, Sara's facts, Sara's personality, which would eventually be Sidney's.
"Mr and Mrs Sidle, I've called you here to talk to you about your daughter."
"What did Sara do?"
"She doesn't communicate well with her peers."
"She doesn't communicate well with anyone," Mrs. Sidle pointed out.
"Except for Sidney and Michelle," Mr. Sidle murmured.
"That's true, she communicates with Sidney and Michelle."
"Who are…?"
"Sidney is Michelle's daughter. Michelle is our friend."
"I see. We're very concerned about it."
"Hey," said Mr. Sidle seriously. "At least she's communicating with people."
When Sidney was three years old, she was to become a big sister. Sara spent more time at Sidney and Michelle's house than her own during Michelle's pregnancy. She was trying to suck up all the Sidney-time she had before she would have to divide her attention. She was still bewildered by the feelings she had for Sidney: love so pure it made her want to cry. She loved her parents, she loved her pets, but she loved Sidney more than anything. It almost frightened her how she could enjoy someone's company so much, and it definitely frightened her that she might love two people like that.
"Sara?" Her mother came into the "office" and bent down to Sara's level. Sara was sitting in her favorite chair, reading her favorite book.
"Mmm?"
"I have some very sad news to tell you," her mother said, gently setting Sara's book down.
"Mmm?" she glanced up.
"Michelle just phoned me. She said that she had the baby, a boy, 8 pounds, 6 ounces. His name is Dawson."
"How is that sad?" Sara asked, turning back to her book.
"Sara…the baby died."
Sara looked at her mother seriously. She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. She fretted with the binding of the book. She tapped her feet. And finally, she started to cry. Her mother hadn't seen her daughter cry since she was a tiny baby. Unsure of what to do, she reached around awkwardly and patted her back.
Sara avoided Sidney and Michelle's house for a long time. She thought that it held some sort of darkness to it, the air of death, and she didn't want to be involved. She missed Sidney but at the same time, she was scared of the house. She had nightmares and refused to talk to anybody. She wanted that baby, she felt empty inside and she couldn't figure out why. Her entire life, she told no one, and her entire life she grieved for a baby she had never met.
Four months after Dawson's birth and death, Michelle phoned.
"Sara," she said, "We haven't seen you in awhile and we miss you."
Sara said nothing; just bit her lip to keep from crying.
"Sara…I'd really appreciate it if you came over."
Sara hung up the phone, pulled on her shoes, left the house, and went to go see Sidney and Michelle.
Michelle hugged her when she got there and refused to let go. Sara cried into Michelle's front until she felt like there were no tears left. Michelle let her cry, and then gently guided her into the washroom, washed her face, and whispered to her, "Go play with Sidney."
Sara played harder with Sidney than she had in her life. She did all the voices for all the Playmobil people Sidney wanted her to, she played a hundred games of "Amphibian Hunter", she made a crazy crown that said "Sara, Queen Of Amphibian Hunters" and wore it. She wore herself out playing until she felt that twinge of happiness and love, and the house suddenly didn't seem so dark after all.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sara (alas unfortunately), and I only co-own Sidney and Dawson. I was inspired by my own life (the conversations with Sara's parents and teacher and Sara and her mother are actual ones that have occurred) and I thought it might make a good story.