Best Friend of a King

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Jareth (wish I did sometimes), Sarah, or any of the characters from Labyrinth. They belong to Jim Henson and those responsible for the making of the wonderful masterpiece that is Labyrinth. This was written for fun and I make no profit from it.

A/N: This isn't like most of my stories, in fact its probably not like most Labyrinth fan fiction. This starts out rather dark, but I promise after chapter 1 it gets better. If you don't like things involving severe depression and attempted suicide you need to skip this chapter. (which is why I made sure to post the first two chapters at the same time)

Chapter 1: Calling for help

If you're reading this then I'm no longer here, but fear not. I haven't died yet, at least I hope I haven't. I know many won't believe the story I'm about to tell but well its the truth. Many of you thought I was insane these last couple of years. You couldn't understand why I mourned for the loss of someone I never knew. Yes he was famous and yes he was a good guy, but you didn't know him personally. That's what all of you told me. Well I'm writing this to set the record straight. I did know him. He was my best friend.

11 years ago I was a struggling college drop out with no one to look out for me. My last semester at college I got sick with shingles and wound up failing all my classes. If being sick wasn't bad enough I soon found out how alone I was at the time. No one called or stopped by to see me even though I wasn't in class for two weeks. My only comfort at the time was my best friend from High School.

He texted me daily and his messages cheered me up. I had always had a slight crush on him and he knew it. I made plans to go see him for my 21st birthday, but that didn't happen. Looking back on it now that was probably for the best. A month before my trip home I found out, from someone else, he was dating a new girl. When I asked him about it he got all upset and demanded I tell him who told me. I didn't reveal my source but asked him if I was his best friend, as he claimed I was, why was I the last to know?

Needless to say his answer broke my heart even more than it already was. I haven't spoken to him since. That was probably when the worst of my depression started. I survived all the other times by talking to him. No matter what he was always there. But in the end even my best friend stabbed me in the back.

As the days went by I began to feel more and more alone. I had no friends at work and the people from college that I still saw didn't even know my name. I was Billie's room mate to them. With no friends, a boyfriend was definitely never going to happen.

I hated how I looked. Staring in the mirror all I could think was how fat and ugly I was. Soon my thoughts got darker. I wondered how long it would take for someone to miss me if I disappeared. That later turned to how long would it take for them to find my body if I killed myself.

In the kitchen I'd look at the knives and think how easy it would be to slit my wrists or my own throat. While in the bath I'd contemplate going under water and staying there until I drowned or perhaps tossing an appliance in with me.

I never went through with it, obviously since I'm writing this. I never attempted it either. I was too afraid. No matter how depressed and alone I was my fear of death kept me from going through with it.

Finally one night everything changed. I had enough and was going to go through with it. I grabbed the largest knife in the kitchen and went to the bathroom. I filled the tub but never even broke the skin. I broke down in tears and to this day I don't know why I said it. It was something from an old fairy tale I read as a child.

"I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away right now." It came out through my tears and as I expected, nothing happened. No thunder, no flash of lights, and no Goblin King.

After crying for at least an hour and soaking in the tub until the water was cold, I pulled myself together best I could and headed to bed, wrapped in just my blue cotton bath robe and warm fuzzy slippers.

The knife was in my hand when I entered the bedroom, not sure why I brought it with me. As I went to climb into bed I heard laughing behind me. I turned quickly and saw him standing there, a smile on his face. "You could have asked me asked me a long time ago, you know..."