Sara was tired.
Not that she had been very busy in the last days, but after the escape, after the hospital, the police, her dad, the group... she just felt like sleeping for years and waking up at a better time of her life. If there was going to be one.
At mornings, she would get up late and watch TV, trying her best to avoid the news on the "Fox River Eight", as the midia was calling that men who once were her patients. The afternoons were all destinated to the group meetings and therapy. Though she was quite aware that she needed this, it was still not the funniest thing in the world. And the nights? The nights were all Michael's.
Sara really didn't want to think about that baby blue eyed convict, but at the end of the day she would always give up and curse herself for doing it. It wasn't really her fault. That eyes seemed to be hunting her, following her steps, invading her mind. You and me. It's real. Those words ecoed in her head while she was lying on the bed, gazing at the drawer where she kept the origami birds. Was all of this true?
She couldn't tell. Sara was not ready to start wondering about it. She just wanted to feel. It was almost unbelievable, but she could feel his presence and while in the dark of her room, examining the shadows on the window, she would taste his lips on her mouth, going over and over that morning when he had kissed her in the infirmary. It was agonizing. And it was making her mad. However, it would last only for the night. During the day, Sara had to keep going. She had promised to herself she wouldn't be waiting and hoping and thinking about him. It hurt way too much.
So on that night nothing was different. Sara was half asleep in her bed. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and sat down. There was a sound in the kitchen and she heard her cat Jack. Maybe he was claiming for food or water again. She quickly got up and left her room, but didn't make it to the kitchen. Standing in the middle of her living room, with scared eyes and a white shirt filled with blood, there was Lincoln.