Sarah stared through the foggy window pane of her apartment down onto the desolate streets of her neighborhood, her forehead resting haphazardly against the glass. Little droplets of water glittered, reflecting the light of the street lamps below and sending refracted rainbows against the haunted walls of the dark room.
What little view she had not entirely obscured by the condensation left by the cold storm brewing outside was blurred by eyes full of tears, the images of neighboring houses, street signs and lights morphed across the expanse of her vision as she felt another wave of hallow heartbreak wash over her.
She exhaled shakily, her hot breath creating a round, foggy imprint on the glass as her throat threatened to close off entirely with the lump that had grown there.
The flesh of her cheeks stung as the salty water poured once again down her face, raw from the constant weeping she had endured over the last several months. Her limbs protested her every movement, the muscles sore from disuse and constant sobbing.
Her frame had thinned from weeks of eating like a bird, only ingesting the amount of nutrition needed to keep her alive, that is, until this week.
She stopped eating almost three days ago and no longer did she suffer from the sharp hunger spells that usually prompted her to nibble a piece of bread until they subsided. It had been so long now that her mind seemed to welcome the dizziness that sometimes served to distract her from unwanted thoughts and memories.
But not today.
No, today, her mind had decided she was ready to embrace the reality of her situation. She was alone.
Her entire family-her stepmother Karen, her Dad, Robert and her little brother, Toby- were all killed in a tragic car accident five months ago.
An officer had come to her college dorm to bring her the news personally, as he was the first on the scene that evening. There was nothing anyone could do, he had said. The hit was instantaneous and they didn't suffer, probably didn't even see it coming.
Sarah vaguely remembered attending the funeral from a far away place. She had stood before the crowds of people as the last and only family member to sit at their side as the viewing had taken place. Shaking her head in acknowledgment to all the 'I'm so sorry for your loss's and 'If there's anything I can do's. Was that all anyone ever said at a funeral? Was there really anything they could do?
Her Dad and Karen's coffins had been lowered into the ground first. Watching Toby's smaller one lowered last had broken some part of her mind and she remembered vividly feeling a large part of herself die that day, as the rain did nothing to ease the pain she felt blossoming in her heart at the loss.
Her school had given her time off to grieve, though that time had run out months ago. She was sure they would reinstate her, positive even, but she couldn't bring herself to care about her studies anymore. That life was over.
She returned home to her empty house, full of empty memories. The phone rang those first few weeks constantly. Social workers just 'checking in' on her, dropping by for unexpected visits. The school wanting to know when she was coming back. After the first couple days, she unhooked the device entirely and locked the doors, ignoring the door bell when it rang.
The house and everything in it had been left to her, along with a significant life insurance policy. On top of that, the mailbox was practically overflowing with social security checks, mailed to her every month, along with her father's pension. She knew because after several months of staying holed up inside her room, the mail lady had finally started pushing them through the slip in the door, rather than the mailbox, which had long ago run out of room.
The house was silent, save for the rain and the occasional sounds of traffic. Not a single light was left on, though the sun had gone down hours ago. The thermostat had been left off, as the sound of it cutting on one night had frightened her so badly she had almost cried out in fear before realizing what had occurred.
She rose from her seat at the window, padding softly into her parents' bedroom. After fumbling around for a bit in the top shelf of the closet, she found was she was looking for and deftly slipped it into the sleeve of her dark green sweater before making her way downstairs to the living room.
She headed straight for the cabinet above the bookshelf and reached on tip toes for the dusty bottle of Rum she knew lay hidden behind a box of old cigars her father had been saving for a 'special occasion.'
Her lips nearly cracked into a slight grin at the irony of just what special occasion it would be used for instead, almost.
She sat the bottle in her lap, propping her feet up on the coffee table and cracked the lid before bringing the rim of it up to her lips and taking a rather large swill of the amber liquid. It ran like fire down her throat, pooling with warmth in her belly and relaxing her muscles as she savored the feeling, leaning her head back against the couch.
Sarah had never been much a drinker, having never appreciated the feeling it gave her nor the taste, but today she found a new respect for alcohol and could safely assume she had over looked one its best merits: liquid courage.
She felt the contents race through her bloodstream, immediately alleviating some of the pressure built up in her head as her lack of nutrition seemed to hasten the effects.
Feeling now was as good a time as any, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I wish the Goblin King would come to me, right now."
For a moment, nothing happened. The house remained silent and still, while Sarah began to wonder if maybe her memories of the Underground and the time she spent there were just an effect of her grief and an over active imagination.
That is, until there was a an overly loud clap of thunder overhead and the living room was momentarily illuminated with a blue flash of lightening.
Sarah ignored the signs, choosing to take another rather long pull of the bottle in her hand.
"Why have you summoned me here?" Came a familiar, cold voice from the shadows. His tone was accusational and incredulous, as if he were insulted by the invocation.
She chose not to look at him, fearing the worst if she did. She might just break down and cry her heart out on the spot and she couldn't have that, could she? Not when she wanted so badly to be seen as strong.
Steeling herself against her nerves, she took a deep breath. "How have you been, Jareth?"
He scoffed, harshly. "It is no concern of your's. Why don't you tell me what you want so I can get back to my kingdom and out of this...place," he spat the last word like it was poison in his mouth, looking around the room with disgust as he crossed his arms about his chest, as if he feared he might soil himself were he to touch something.
Sarah sniffed and Jareth narrowed his eyes on her darkened form sitting on the couch, unable to read her expression in the lack of light.
"Do you love me?" she asked softly, so soft he almost missed the question entirely.
He took a moment to let the words sink in before cold fury took over. Enraged, he sized her up from his place across the room and unleashed the venom he felt into his next words.
"Do I? Love you? Oh, Sarah. Poor, poor, pitiful, selfish Sarah. To ever dream that I could love a spoiled, self-centered little brat like you, you really are beyond all help. Did you actually delude yourself into thinking that I would waltz in here and confess my love for you? Offer you your dreams after you spat on my offer before? Wake up, girl! I am over you!" he snarled, letting all the hurt and betrayal from the last several years build up into one massive attack. He aimed to hurt and he would see it done. "I never even think of you, save for this one occasion where I am roused from my chambers to answer a call I am bound by own bloody magic to respond! You dare to summon me, to ask me that, of all things. Just what did you think I was going to say?"
Sarah flinched as his words sunk in, cutting her to the core. Never the less, she smiled. This was what she had wanted from him, after all. She needed this last heartbreak to cut away the last thread binding her to this world and he had done what no other could for her, not even the bottle she now sat gently on the coffee table before her.
Jareth saw her grim smile and winced. Something here was not right. The Sarah he knew would have been on her feet by now, facing him head on, toe to toe. This docile, frail thing was not the stubborn, rebellious girl he remembered conquering his Labyrinth. No, he sensed there was something else going on here beneath the surface.
With a wave of his hand, the overhead lights sprang on and Jareth nearly gasped at the sight that greeted him. Her face was pale, thin and hallow. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying and he could tell she had lost a significant amount of weight even through the large sweat shirt she wore to cover it up. The smile she wore spoke of many things, none of which he ever expected to see her suffering from. She was...broken. Tears made silent tracks down her raw cheeks like a flood and he inwardly paled at the realization he'd just made a dire mistake to lash out at her in this condition.
Suddenly, all the odd things about his arrival began to fall into place and he felt an alarming trepidation. All the lights being off, none of her family being home. The pile of mail laying in the floor in front of her front door, untouched.
"Sarah..." he breathed, his initial anger immediately subsiding and was replaced with concern that bled into his voice.
Sarah felt another wave of heartache as the concern in his tone registered and she plowed through her next words as quickly as possible, fearing she would loose her nerve.
"Jareth, I just wanted to say that...I always loved you."
He saw it, then. Gripped in her right hand was a pistol which she brought up to her head.
He lunged across the room. "Sarah, NO!"
"-And I'm sorry!" she sobbed before pulling the trigger. There was a deafening crack, a swirl of magic and the house fell silent once more.