Song for the Rich
1 2 3 4...
Get off work about 4 o'clock
And I'm late again
Cause you'll be here by 6:30
We'll go looking for a close parking spot again
They never talked to her. They never talked about her either...at least not anymore. I remembered her silky, pale skin. She had my eyes. Heh. Or maybe I have her eyes. Probably the latter. She had my mother's red hair, and was always wearing a smile. Sometimes, I think about that smile, and I cry. Because there was no happiness like there used to be. Just a smile. Her name...her name was Sarah. Sarah Elizabeth Manson. I remember calling her my "Sari Lizzibeth" until I was about nine.
Of course, when I was nine, she was seventeen. We were the best of friends until Sarah turned seventeen. When she cried, I would cuddle up to my older sister, and as she told me about what she lost, she'd go 'But you complete me, Sammy. You're just enough.' But that was ages ago...even though it feels like just yesterday. We were the inseperable Manson girls. Filthy rich, but who could tell? Tell me, if you saw two sisters dancing around like idiots in the rain, would you expect them to be the next Paris Hilton or something like that? I think not. But Sarah told me not to care about what the world thought. So I didn't. It was hard, and it hurt like hell sometimes, but I didn't.
Because Sarah said so. Sarah was like God to me at a young age. She was my hero. She was the person I looked up to, and drew from when I was empty. But then she turned seventeen. And when Sarah turned seventeen, things changed. Oh boy, did they change. And let me tell you, it wasn't for what you might call for the better.
Sitting in a room full of believers
Now you tell me what's wrong and what's right
Cause I look over at you baby
And you got your good intentions focused so tight
I remember her having her own point of view for everything. She had a fiery personality to rival her scarlett red hair. I sometimes like to think that she's where I get my fiesty, independant nature from. I remember my parents always spitting at me. 'Don't you act like that', is what they'd say. But I knew what they meant. They were saying 'Don't act like her. Don't disappoint us, too.' But I never did. Surprised them, oh yes. Disappointed? No. Not...not like she did. She walked out. As if that wasn't enough, she walked out with a disgusted scowl. She was disgusted with them...
She was disgusted with me. It had all happened so fast. The dropping of her grades, the cutting herself, the depression. It had started with James Scorting. He was the Clark Kent to her Lois Lane. But if you think he was a hero, you were sadly mistaken.
He sucked the life out of her. He drilled into her mind and took away her strength. Pretty soon, Sarah was just another girl. No different opinions, no more protests, no more individuality,...then there was no more Sarah. By the time Sarah had gotten sick of James dictating her life, and sucking the soul out of her very being, she had no strength to fight back. She was on a roller coaster with no brakes, and feared the jump off. So she just kept riding. James was a constant in our lives from then on. Sarah thought she needed him. I knew she didn't. Mom knew she didn't. Dad knew she didn't. Maybe she even knew deep down inside. She had to, god, even James knew. But even if she did know, she wouldn't let on.
And now it hurts me so
To have to see you go
To watch these drugs break you down
When there's nothing you can do and no one to get through
Remember all the things you tried to forget
Pretty soon she started other things. Like the cutting, the failing, the arguments with our parents. Finally, she got rid of James. But it didn't improve from there by then she had moved onto bigger things. Badder things. Like marijuana, and all that stuff. But she missed the dead weight of a guy in her life apparently, because it was a different guy every weekend. Heck, they'd be lucky if they got 24 hours with big bad Sarah Elizabeth. And we drifted. Farther and farther we drifted each day. With each inhalation, she was erasing the memory of us little by little. And it hurt. It hurt worst than any slap in the face. I was loosing my sister. And she didn't care not one bit.
What's wrong with a little bit of experimentation
To open the eyes of the new generation
Well build your world on an empty foundation
And watch it all blow away
By the time Sarah was eighteen, she was too grown up for me. I remember being ten years old and envying Danny for having Jazz. And even though he couldn't stand her for the longest of time, I could see their connection. She cared for Danny more than anything. Which was more than I could say for my sister. If I got a 'Hey, Sammy! What's up?' or maybe a 'Hey little sister. How ya feelin'?' from her, it was so she could borrow cash for another drug binge. But me, being the faithful sister gave it to her. I was helping our connection. If she got it the first time, she'd come back for more.
And she'd speak to me. Little did I know I was just breeding bad habits, but all I cared about was Sarah. Sarah wanted, Sarah got. Sarah said we'd be together forever. Sarah said. But after another year, when I turned eleven, I realized that Sarah said a lot of things, and not all of them were true.
Now it hurts me so
To have to see you go
To watch these drugs pull you down
When there's nothing we can do and no one can get through
Remember all the things you tried to forget
When I was thirteen, it finally happened. She snapped. She started yelling at Mom for telling me that I couldn't do something. She told them that she was leaving. It all happened so quickly. Such a blur of rage. But one moment stays clearly stapled into my mind.
"I'M LEAVING! SAMMY, COME ON We're OUT OF HERE!."
"No."
"Sammy, what do you MEAN 'No'? Let's go!"
"No. Sarah, I don't wanna go with you. You're not thinking clearly. We can just...I dunno, talk this out. You're gonna screw up your life. I care about you, Sarah, and I know that as much as I care about you, I care about my own well being, and I know that I'd be a mistake to go with you. Sarah, Mom and Dad care about you too. They care about both of us. They're our parents, Sari."
"CARE ABOUT ME? JAMES CARED ABOUT ME! JOSHUA, AND SIMON, PAUL, JEFF, KYLE, DAVID, ARTHUR, AND THE REST OF THOSE GUYS CARED ABOUT ME! So if that's care, then I don't want it. You DISGUST ME! ALL OF YOU!"
Then she turned on me. And said the worst thing she could ever say.
"Especially you, Sammy. And by the way, you can keep your parents. I'm out."
Especially me. I especially disgusted Sarah. And that...that disgusted me. Because for once, Sammy wasn't enough. Sarah needed more. And I didn't think I could handle that very much.
Well I haven't seen you in a while
You know I miss our talks I miss your smile
Cause the look of innocence is priceless
And baby right now you look so lifeless
It was four years later that I had seen her. I was ironically, seventeen. She was on Stratford and Marson, sitting there, shivering and crying in the rain. I remember that Danny and I had just come from the movie theaters, and it was about eight something at night. We were laughing as we ran through the rain holding hands, and smiling. Then we saw a woman. She was sitting near a broken box, weeping her eyes out, shivering horribly and looking deathly pale and lifeless. Like a piece of her soul was missing. I looked over at Danny, and grabbed the umbrella as he gave me an encouraging smile. I remember saying something along the lines of, "Here Miss. I don't need it." She looked up at me to say something, as she accepted the umbrella, and I saw the dull, souless eyes of Sarah Elizabeth. Her lip trembled, and I dropped the umbrella and ran.
I heard "SAMMY! WAIT!" and "Sam! Where you going?" But I ignored it all and I just ran. I didn't cry until I got home. And when I cried, it was like the dams of a river that broke, and weren't up for repairs anytime soon. But then again, neither was my sister. I hadn't seen her since then, and I never would. Not alive anyway. There's always the question in the back of my mind, wondering if I had pulled a "Sarah" that night, and left my sister all alone out in the cold. As I cried that night, I wondered where Sarah's soul had gone...and if a part of mine had tagged along for the ride.
And now it hurts me so to have to see you go
To watch this song break you down
When there's nothing we can do
And no one to get through
Remember all the things you tried to forget
Years later, six years probably, I got the phone call. I was twenty-three, and I was cradling my little one in my arms. Sarah was killed out in the streets. How? I didn't know. And truth be told, I didn't wanna know. I just remember Danny putting the baby in her crib, and snaking his arms around my waists and I leaned into his chest and cried softly. Danny tried to understand, and told me that he did. But he didn't. He couldn't. His sister was alive, and she was full of spirit and such amazing life. I dove desperately into the inner depths of my heart, searching frantically for the "Manson connection"...But all I got was a dial tone.
And now it hurts me so
To have to see you go
Watch this song break you down
"Sarah Elizabeth Fenton..." Sam sighed.
Eight year old Sarah turned around, her identical amethyst eyes staring back at her mother in pure curiosity.
"Yes Mommy?" she asked.
Sam looked into her daughter's eyes and gave a dry gulp.
"Nothing, honey." Sam whispered, moving her bangs out of her eyes. "Nothing at all."