Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, nor am I making any money
from this.
AN: I've always wondered about the story behind the song "Bad Wisdom" by Suzanne Vega, and I decided to write one. It just so happened that I was watching CSI when the thought occurred and Sara was the one who walked on the screen, so she became the girl in the story. This does contain references to sexual abuse, so if that bothers you, please don't read it, but it doesn't get very graphic. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to tell either way.
Bad Wisdom
"C'mon Nick," Sara said with a disbelieving smile, "you can't honestly believe that he's telling the truth."
"I do, I think that he killed the vic in self-defense, you just don't want to be wrong," he shot back at her with that oh-so-confident look.
Sara sat back, crossed her arms and gave him a smile that clearly said, "I'm too stubborn to change my mind, but I'm going to patronizingly let you believe whatever you want to believe."
She would never admit how much she loved this easy banter. She felt more like an actual part of the group at CSI than she had ever felt about anything before. She sat up a little straighter when Grissom walked in.
"Sara, you have a visitor."
Sara's smile disappeared at the sight of the woman in the doorway. She stood up quickly, smoothing her clothes and hair.
'Hello, Mother."
Nick watched Sara go from happy and warm to cold and reserved in a matter of seconds. He watched the woman responsible glance around the computer lab with a look of disgust and disapproval. Sara noticed it too and she made a vain attempt to straighten up the piles of papers they had been going through, wiping imaginary dust from the tables and pushing in the chair she had stood up from. Nick couldn't believe his eyes, this wasn't the Sara he knew, the Sara that was always so confident and self-assured, stubborn and brilliant. He wasn't sure exactly what had changed, but he definitely didn't like it and he didn't like the stranger standing in front of him looking around like she had just stepped in something disgusting.
Sara stepped forward, "Mother, this is Nick Stokes, and my boss, Gil Grissom."
A cool nod was the only response either of them got.
"Sara, we need to speak. Would you be available to join me for lunch?"
Sara glanced towards Grissom and at his nod, agreed.
"Just one moment Mother, I'll get my coat."
"I'll wait for you in the car out front, you know what it looks like." Without another word she turned and walked briskly down the hallway.
"I won't be gone long Grissom," Sara said, walking toward the lockers. As she followed the hallway to the front of the building, Grissom and Nick shared a look that said simply, "Oh, boy."
Sara tried to calm down on her way to the car, but nothing seemed to be working. Her mother hadn't talked to her in almost 7 years, since she graduated from high school and Sara was fine with the thought of never seeing her again. Seeing her again brought back all the memories she had spent years trying to forget. She ran her hands through her hair once more before lifting her head and walking to the car.
It was still the same car, the same driver, who she greeted as she slipped in next to her mother. It only took a second before her mother started.
"Sara, you look horrible. When was the last time you had your clothes pressed, and your hair done? You look tired and pale, and we both know that that is not the image one wants to present to the world. Of course I can't say that's surprising after seeing inside that place. So sterile and unfeminine. I never did understand why you couldn't at least pretend to be a woman. And your friend, not the older one, the one with whom you were laughing, I don't like him, he looks like a philandering type of man," she paused to look with a sneer at her daughter's carefully controlled face, "of course, that wouldn't matter personally, a man like that would never see anything in you."
Sara didn't respond, she didn't move, she just absorbed the words and put them away deep inside with all the other dark things that had caused her pain. Her eyes never left the streets of Las Vegas as the car made its way to one of the down-town restaurants.
After they had sat down long enough for her mother to criticize the way she walked, sat, ordered, how she ate and her choices of food she got around to the reason of her visit.
"Your grandparents are dead, your Uncle Isaiah was driving them home from one of their benefits when he lost control of the car. He's fine."
Sara was stunned. She took a deep breath and tried not to cry.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sara, control yourself."
Sara stood up slowly and in a perfectly controlled voice excused herself and walked to the bathroom. She still didn't let herself cry, she wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction of seeing what little make-up she had on smeared and running. Her mother had always hater her husband's parents and had never understood Sara's deep connection. They had been the ones to take her in when she was 14, to keep her safe. She took a deep breath and ran some cold water on her wrists before she felt composed enough to walk back the table where her mother was waiting.
"Could we go now mother. I need to get back to work."
"Right away Sara. Run back to your disgusting job and hide. I've served my purpose."
Her mother paid the bill and they were both silent the entire ride back to CSI.
"I'll be staying through the end of the week, I wanted to get some fun in, but since I don't plan on seeing you again, good-bye. I'll send you the information on the funerals once they are arranged."
"I would appreciate that mother. Good-bye."
Sara got out of the car and walked into the building and never once looked back. She had stopped hoping for a mother a long time ago. The hurt was still there, but there was no more wishful thinking.
Nick was the first to see her after she had put away her things. She was on her way back to the lab when he ran into her. She was still cold and composed and a little bit of the light was gone from her eyes.
"Sara, are you okay?" Nick asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.
"Of course, I'm fine. Did we get those test results back yet?"
Nick smiled, "Yep, and you were right, some of those injuries were a few days old. Previously beating on someone, poisoning them and then claiming self-defense just doesn't add up. Good job."
Sara didn't gloat, didn't even smile, just nodded and started to clean up. She remained distant the rest of the day, it was only once she was safely in her apartment, with the door closed and locked behind her that she let herself cry.
"Mother the doctor knows something is wrong
because my body has strange information
He's looked in my eyes and knows I'm not a child
But he doesn't dare ask the right question.
Mother my friends are no longer my friends
And the games we once played have no mearning
I'm gone serious and shy and they can't figure why
So they've left me to my own day dreaming
What price to pay for bad wisdom
What price to pay for bad wisdom
Too young to know too much too soon
Bad wisdom, bad wisdom."
The dreams came that night. Sara wasn't surprised, her mother had dredged up too many memories today. She was 8 the first time and her mother had taken her to the doctor for her yearly check-up. He had seen the bruises and marks, of that she was sure, they stood out clearly from her hips and thighs. Of course the doctor didn't say anything, he would never dare to suggest that a Hanaman, her mother's family, would be the victim of abuse, so she didn't suggest anything either, but she could see the pity in his eyes as he waved good-bye. It happened again after that and soon she stopped playing with her friends. Their fantasy and games all seemed so pointless and stupid. She just wanted to be alone, so she wouldn't have to connect with anyone, so she wouldn't have to come back to herself and face her reality. She liked being disconnected and free, able to float above herself, away from it all.
Sara woke with a start. Her hair was plastered to her neck and her sheets were tangled around her. She looked at the clock, she still had six hours before she had to go to work. She could use the overtime, she told herself as she headed for the shower.
She gave no excuse as to why she was there early and no one asked. She watched herself all day as she played at normal. She laughed and smiled and worked and didn't feel anything. She once lived for this removed numbness, but now it scared her. Her lunch tasted like nothing and she couldn't feel the water slide down her throat as she swallowed. Nothing touched her, especially the random hands that occasionally connected with her body. She didn't remember what she said and she couldn't quite recall why she was laughing. The rest of the day blurred until she fell into an exhausted sleep. She couldn't remember how she had gotten home.
"Mother you've taught me the laws are so fine
If I'm good then I will be protected
Well, I've fallen through the cracks and there's no getting back
And I'll never trust whoever gets elected.
Mother your eyes have gone suddenly cold
And it wasn't what I was expecting
Once I did think that I'd find comfort there
But instead you've gone hard and suspecting.
What price to pay for bad wisdom
What price to pay for bad wisdom
Too young to know too much too soon
Bad wisdom, bad wisdom."
She could remember the exact moment her mother had started hating her. The first time she had called the police, her mother had convinced them she was just delusional and they were too intimidated by the 4-story mansion to try to argue. As soon as they were gone, she tried to convince her mother she was telling the truth, but her mother refused to look past the anger and humiliation that was clouding her eyes. There were no hugs, no promises, just a slap across the face and angry silence. How dare she embarrass her and her family like that. The coldness in her mother's eyes killed the hope she had been hiding. He had heard too, heard that the great Mrs. Hanaman would never believe her daughter because she didn't want to believe her. He didn't sneak around as much after that, sometimes he didn't even wait until it was dark. No place was safe anymore, and she watched hopelessly as each day of pain and fear chipped away at her soul.
Sara walked into work and tried to convince herself it would be fun to go on a shopping spree with this week's overtime paycheck. She wasn't as lucky today though, Nick followed her to the morgue as she signed for the body of her next case.
"What were you doing here so early?" he asked, getting out the tools needed to collect any trace evidence from the body.
"I was thinking about getting a new TV and I figured I could use the money," she lied easily. Sometimes it scared her how easily she could lie.
"Oh, so what else have you been up to lately," he asked, watching her closely.
After about 5 more minutes of Sara's monosyllabic answers he finally took the hint and gave up. Sara breathed a sigh of relief, somehow even the act of speaking required more energy than she had in her today. They spent the rest of the day processing all the evidence from the body and scene.
Nick made one more attempt at conversation as they were cleaning up, "So, how long is your mother going to be in town?"
"Through the end of the week." She shrugged on her coat and pushed in her chair. She gathered her things and walked out the door.
Nick, wisely let her go. Something was bothering her, and he had enough experience to realize that sometimes people preferred privacy. Of course that didn't stop him from promising to stop by her apartment and check on her tonight.
Sara microwaved some frozen dinner. Even though she hadn't really eaten in the past three days she was having a hard time convincing herself she was hungry.
After about two bites of the unidentifiable brown mass in front of her, Sara gave up and sank down on the couch. She thought about her Grandmother, with the warm eyes and protecting hugs; her Grandfather, with his contagious laughter and deep wisdom. She couldn't believe they were gone, couldn't believe they were no longer a phone call away when things threatened to overwhelm her. The memories pulled her back to the past, to the time she had first found her future with them.
"Mother I'm cut at the root like a weed
'Cause there's no one to hear my small story.
Just like a woman who walks in the street
I will pay for my life with my body.
What price to pay for bad wisdom
What price to pay for bad wisdom
Too young to know too much too soon
Bad wisdom, bad wisdom."
After that incident with the police she promised herself she wouldn't tell anyone, not if it would just bring more pain. She told herself she could handle it, after all she was 14 now, old enough to take care of herself. Or so she thought.
That night her step-father had come home later than usual-her mother was already asleep, but Sara had decided to sneak a book from the library to take to bed. That's where he found her, drunk and staggering, with two of his friends close behind and almost as wasted.
"There's my little princess," he said slurring, as he pointed towards her.
"You guys said you wanted to have a little fun? Here it is."
Sara was terrified and tried to rush past the men blocking the door, but they were quicker than they looked and before she could fight back they had her before them with the door closed. What happened after was worse than anything she could remember. Over the next two hours the men took turns with her- with various objects, in various positions until they were one the verge of passing out. At that point they let go of her and stumbled away to the bar in the next room where Sara could hear them pouring new drinks and laughing. She couldn't move for a while, but eventually her will to survive forced her body up the stairs to her room where she took some clothes and some money she had saved and escaped into the dark.
Somehow she had found her way to her grandparents' house. They had taken one look at her bruised and tear-stained face and gathered her in their arms. Over the next few months she stopped jumping at every tough and started going back to school. They never pressed her to talk about what happened and never suggested she go back home, but they knew. The morning after she came they took her to the doctor out of town to make sure she was physically alright, and soon after had called her mother and coldly informed her that Sara wouldn't be coming back home. No charges were pressed, no one wanted Sara to go through that. Her mother never argued, she had been surprised to see her at her graduation a few years later. She heard that her step-father had drunk himself to death the year before, but her mother never spoke to her to tell her the details. And now the only people she had ever loved were gone and Sara didn't know if she could handle everything without them.
She hadn't realized she'd been crying until a knock from the door brought her back to the present.
Nick stood uncertainly outside Sara's door, unsure of how she would react to his showing up here.
The door opened slowly and before she could say a word he pushed past her, 'What's wrong?"
"Come on in," she said a little sarcastically as she shut the door.
"It's obvious you've been crying, what happened?"
Maybe if she wasn't feeling so vulnerable at that moment, so off-balance, so lost, so utterly alone, she would have done what she always had and lie, but almost beyond her control she heard herself telling him.
"My grandparent's are dead."
She walked back to the couch before she could read his expression.
"When? Why didn't you say anything?" he paused, "is that why your mother came?"
"Yeah," Sara said softly, "she wanted to tell me in person, so I could see her happiness at the news."
Nick wasn't quite sure what she was talking about.
"Why would she want to do that?" he asked softly, sinking down beside her on the couch.
"Because she hates me and she hates them," Sara said bluntly, "hated—" she corrected herself, trying not to cry.
Nick gently put his arm around her and drew her to his shoulder.
"It's okay, you can cry," he said softly and so she did and Nick held her the whole time. Once her tears were spent she pulled back, embarrassed.
Nick saw the embarrassment and pretended like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if having one of his best friends cry on him was nothing unusual. He stood up and closed off all his questions. She was obviously feeling very vulnerable and he didn't want to upset her anymore.
"I'll leave you alone now. I'm really sorry about your grandparents," he walked to the door, "If you ever want to talk, I'm more than willing to listen," he offered before softly closing the door behind him, requiring no promises or false 'maybes.'
Sara didn't move for a few minutes, surprised she had let herself trust him that much and surprised that she was actually not that opposed to his suggestion.
She had nightmares that night, too. She was back at work early again the next day. Nick didn't embarrass her by saying anything and she went through all the motions of work. It wasn't until a little bit after lunck that her mother showed up again. She and Nick were just about to run some tests on fibers from their scene when she walked in the lab room. Sara was more than surprised, especially since her mother had said she wasn't going to see her again.
"Mother, what are you doing here?" Sara asked suspiciously. She felt nick move up next to her.
"I just had a talk with the lawyers and apparently your grandmother left you this note with specific instructions that I personally give it to you. The lawyers insisted I agree," she added in a tone that clearly implied that she had argued that point.
"Thank you mother," Sara said politely, moving forward to take the note. Without another word her mother turned and left. Nick was once again surprised at the coldness of the woman.
He turned to look at Sara, who was staring at the letter with absolute love. He quietly left the room so Sara could have some privacy. Sara noticed and waited until he was gone before she sank into one of the chairs and carefully opened the letter. Her eyes filled with tears at her grandmother's beautiful handwriting and had to blink several times before she could clearly make out the words.
Dear Sara~
If you are reading this letter then I am no longer living. I hope that by now you have a happy life- you deserve it. I also hope that you have forgiven yourself enough that you could handle your mother, forgive me if you couldn't. It was my hope that forcing you to see her would make you realize you can come to terms with your past. Sara, since the first night you came to us I have loved you like my own daughter and have often wept for all the pain you've had to endure. I just wanted to tell you something in case you've been having a little trouble figuring this out for yourself. Not everyone is like your mother and step-father, not everyone is out to hurt you. There are a lot of good people out there if you would let yourself trust them enough to find out. I know there's someone out there that's willing to listen. Talk to them- don't keep everything bottled up. I never pressed you for details because I never thought you were ready, but Sara, please tell someone. I'll be there for you always, even when you can't see me or call me, I'll always be there for you, not even death can take me from you. Please find a way to live your life fully. No one has earned their happiness more than you.
Love forever,
Your Gran
Sara closed her eyes as tears trickled down her face, but these were cleansing tears, healing tears. She could hear her grandmother's voice as she read the letter again. It calmed her and suddenly she knew she'd get through this because her grandmother was right- there were people out there willing to help and listen and she had been lucky enough to find one. With a soft smile on her face she found Nick waiting in the hall.
"You okay," he asked, still worried but relieved at the awareness in her eyes and smile on her face.
"I will be," she said, "about your offer, as long as you're still serious—"
"Always," he promised, taking her hand, "just name the time."
The gray-haired spirit smiled at their retreating backs, peacefully confident that everything would work out, and that Sara finally had a chance at some true happiness.
AN: I've always wondered about the story behind the song "Bad Wisdom" by Suzanne Vega, and I decided to write one. It just so happened that I was watching CSI when the thought occurred and Sara was the one who walked on the screen, so she became the girl in the story. This does contain references to sexual abuse, so if that bothers you, please don't read it, but it doesn't get very graphic. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to tell either way.
Bad Wisdom
"C'mon Nick," Sara said with a disbelieving smile, "you can't honestly believe that he's telling the truth."
"I do, I think that he killed the vic in self-defense, you just don't want to be wrong," he shot back at her with that oh-so-confident look.
Sara sat back, crossed her arms and gave him a smile that clearly said, "I'm too stubborn to change my mind, but I'm going to patronizingly let you believe whatever you want to believe."
She would never admit how much she loved this easy banter. She felt more like an actual part of the group at CSI than she had ever felt about anything before. She sat up a little straighter when Grissom walked in.
"Sara, you have a visitor."
Sara's smile disappeared at the sight of the woman in the doorway. She stood up quickly, smoothing her clothes and hair.
'Hello, Mother."
Nick watched Sara go from happy and warm to cold and reserved in a matter of seconds. He watched the woman responsible glance around the computer lab with a look of disgust and disapproval. Sara noticed it too and she made a vain attempt to straighten up the piles of papers they had been going through, wiping imaginary dust from the tables and pushing in the chair she had stood up from. Nick couldn't believe his eyes, this wasn't the Sara he knew, the Sara that was always so confident and self-assured, stubborn and brilliant. He wasn't sure exactly what had changed, but he definitely didn't like it and he didn't like the stranger standing in front of him looking around like she had just stepped in something disgusting.
Sara stepped forward, "Mother, this is Nick Stokes, and my boss, Gil Grissom."
A cool nod was the only response either of them got.
"Sara, we need to speak. Would you be available to join me for lunch?"
Sara glanced towards Grissom and at his nod, agreed.
"Just one moment Mother, I'll get my coat."
"I'll wait for you in the car out front, you know what it looks like." Without another word she turned and walked briskly down the hallway.
"I won't be gone long Grissom," Sara said, walking toward the lockers. As she followed the hallway to the front of the building, Grissom and Nick shared a look that said simply, "Oh, boy."
Sara tried to calm down on her way to the car, but nothing seemed to be working. Her mother hadn't talked to her in almost 7 years, since she graduated from high school and Sara was fine with the thought of never seeing her again. Seeing her again brought back all the memories she had spent years trying to forget. She ran her hands through her hair once more before lifting her head and walking to the car.
It was still the same car, the same driver, who she greeted as she slipped in next to her mother. It only took a second before her mother started.
"Sara, you look horrible. When was the last time you had your clothes pressed, and your hair done? You look tired and pale, and we both know that that is not the image one wants to present to the world. Of course I can't say that's surprising after seeing inside that place. So sterile and unfeminine. I never did understand why you couldn't at least pretend to be a woman. And your friend, not the older one, the one with whom you were laughing, I don't like him, he looks like a philandering type of man," she paused to look with a sneer at her daughter's carefully controlled face, "of course, that wouldn't matter personally, a man like that would never see anything in you."
Sara didn't respond, she didn't move, she just absorbed the words and put them away deep inside with all the other dark things that had caused her pain. Her eyes never left the streets of Las Vegas as the car made its way to one of the down-town restaurants.
After they had sat down long enough for her mother to criticize the way she walked, sat, ordered, how she ate and her choices of food she got around to the reason of her visit.
"Your grandparents are dead, your Uncle Isaiah was driving them home from one of their benefits when he lost control of the car. He's fine."
Sara was stunned. She took a deep breath and tried not to cry.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sara, control yourself."
Sara stood up slowly and in a perfectly controlled voice excused herself and walked to the bathroom. She still didn't let herself cry, she wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction of seeing what little make-up she had on smeared and running. Her mother had always hater her husband's parents and had never understood Sara's deep connection. They had been the ones to take her in when she was 14, to keep her safe. She took a deep breath and ran some cold water on her wrists before she felt composed enough to walk back the table where her mother was waiting.
"Could we go now mother. I need to get back to work."
"Right away Sara. Run back to your disgusting job and hide. I've served my purpose."
Her mother paid the bill and they were both silent the entire ride back to CSI.
"I'll be staying through the end of the week, I wanted to get some fun in, but since I don't plan on seeing you again, good-bye. I'll send you the information on the funerals once they are arranged."
"I would appreciate that mother. Good-bye."
Sara got out of the car and walked into the building and never once looked back. She had stopped hoping for a mother a long time ago. The hurt was still there, but there was no more wishful thinking.
Nick was the first to see her after she had put away her things. She was on her way back to the lab when he ran into her. She was still cold and composed and a little bit of the light was gone from her eyes.
"Sara, are you okay?" Nick asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.
"Of course, I'm fine. Did we get those test results back yet?"
Nick smiled, "Yep, and you were right, some of those injuries were a few days old. Previously beating on someone, poisoning them and then claiming self-defense just doesn't add up. Good job."
Sara didn't gloat, didn't even smile, just nodded and started to clean up. She remained distant the rest of the day, it was only once she was safely in her apartment, with the door closed and locked behind her that she let herself cry.
"Mother the doctor knows something is wrong
because my body has strange information
He's looked in my eyes and knows I'm not a child
But he doesn't dare ask the right question.
Mother my friends are no longer my friends
And the games we once played have no mearning
I'm gone serious and shy and they can't figure why
So they've left me to my own day dreaming
What price to pay for bad wisdom
What price to pay for bad wisdom
Too young to know too much too soon
Bad wisdom, bad wisdom."
The dreams came that night. Sara wasn't surprised, her mother had dredged up too many memories today. She was 8 the first time and her mother had taken her to the doctor for her yearly check-up. He had seen the bruises and marks, of that she was sure, they stood out clearly from her hips and thighs. Of course the doctor didn't say anything, he would never dare to suggest that a Hanaman, her mother's family, would be the victim of abuse, so she didn't suggest anything either, but she could see the pity in his eyes as he waved good-bye. It happened again after that and soon she stopped playing with her friends. Their fantasy and games all seemed so pointless and stupid. She just wanted to be alone, so she wouldn't have to connect with anyone, so she wouldn't have to come back to herself and face her reality. She liked being disconnected and free, able to float above herself, away from it all.
Sara woke with a start. Her hair was plastered to her neck and her sheets were tangled around her. She looked at the clock, she still had six hours before she had to go to work. She could use the overtime, she told herself as she headed for the shower.
She gave no excuse as to why she was there early and no one asked. She watched herself all day as she played at normal. She laughed and smiled and worked and didn't feel anything. She once lived for this removed numbness, but now it scared her. Her lunch tasted like nothing and she couldn't feel the water slide down her throat as she swallowed. Nothing touched her, especially the random hands that occasionally connected with her body. She didn't remember what she said and she couldn't quite recall why she was laughing. The rest of the day blurred until she fell into an exhausted sleep. She couldn't remember how she had gotten home.
"Mother you've taught me the laws are so fine
If I'm good then I will be protected
Well, I've fallen through the cracks and there's no getting back
And I'll never trust whoever gets elected.
Mother your eyes have gone suddenly cold
And it wasn't what I was expecting
Once I did think that I'd find comfort there
But instead you've gone hard and suspecting.
What price to pay for bad wisdom
What price to pay for bad wisdom
Too young to know too much too soon
Bad wisdom, bad wisdom."
She could remember the exact moment her mother had started hating her. The first time she had called the police, her mother had convinced them she was just delusional and they were too intimidated by the 4-story mansion to try to argue. As soon as they were gone, she tried to convince her mother she was telling the truth, but her mother refused to look past the anger and humiliation that was clouding her eyes. There were no hugs, no promises, just a slap across the face and angry silence. How dare she embarrass her and her family like that. The coldness in her mother's eyes killed the hope she had been hiding. He had heard too, heard that the great Mrs. Hanaman would never believe her daughter because she didn't want to believe her. He didn't sneak around as much after that, sometimes he didn't even wait until it was dark. No place was safe anymore, and she watched hopelessly as each day of pain and fear chipped away at her soul.
Sara walked into work and tried to convince herself it would be fun to go on a shopping spree with this week's overtime paycheck. She wasn't as lucky today though, Nick followed her to the morgue as she signed for the body of her next case.
"What were you doing here so early?" he asked, getting out the tools needed to collect any trace evidence from the body.
"I was thinking about getting a new TV and I figured I could use the money," she lied easily. Sometimes it scared her how easily she could lie.
"Oh, so what else have you been up to lately," he asked, watching her closely.
After about 5 more minutes of Sara's monosyllabic answers he finally took the hint and gave up. Sara breathed a sigh of relief, somehow even the act of speaking required more energy than she had in her today. They spent the rest of the day processing all the evidence from the body and scene.
Nick made one more attempt at conversation as they were cleaning up, "So, how long is your mother going to be in town?"
"Through the end of the week." She shrugged on her coat and pushed in her chair. She gathered her things and walked out the door.
Nick, wisely let her go. Something was bothering her, and he had enough experience to realize that sometimes people preferred privacy. Of course that didn't stop him from promising to stop by her apartment and check on her tonight.
Sara microwaved some frozen dinner. Even though she hadn't really eaten in the past three days she was having a hard time convincing herself she was hungry.
After about two bites of the unidentifiable brown mass in front of her, Sara gave up and sank down on the couch. She thought about her Grandmother, with the warm eyes and protecting hugs; her Grandfather, with his contagious laughter and deep wisdom. She couldn't believe they were gone, couldn't believe they were no longer a phone call away when things threatened to overwhelm her. The memories pulled her back to the past, to the time she had first found her future with them.
"Mother I'm cut at the root like a weed
'Cause there's no one to hear my small story.
Just like a woman who walks in the street
I will pay for my life with my body.
What price to pay for bad wisdom
What price to pay for bad wisdom
Too young to know too much too soon
Bad wisdom, bad wisdom."
After that incident with the police she promised herself she wouldn't tell anyone, not if it would just bring more pain. She told herself she could handle it, after all she was 14 now, old enough to take care of herself. Or so she thought.
That night her step-father had come home later than usual-her mother was already asleep, but Sara had decided to sneak a book from the library to take to bed. That's where he found her, drunk and staggering, with two of his friends close behind and almost as wasted.
"There's my little princess," he said slurring, as he pointed towards her.
"You guys said you wanted to have a little fun? Here it is."
Sara was terrified and tried to rush past the men blocking the door, but they were quicker than they looked and before she could fight back they had her before them with the door closed. What happened after was worse than anything she could remember. Over the next two hours the men took turns with her- with various objects, in various positions until they were one the verge of passing out. At that point they let go of her and stumbled away to the bar in the next room where Sara could hear them pouring new drinks and laughing. She couldn't move for a while, but eventually her will to survive forced her body up the stairs to her room where she took some clothes and some money she had saved and escaped into the dark.
Somehow she had found her way to her grandparents' house. They had taken one look at her bruised and tear-stained face and gathered her in their arms. Over the next few months she stopped jumping at every tough and started going back to school. They never pressed her to talk about what happened and never suggested she go back home, but they knew. The morning after she came they took her to the doctor out of town to make sure she was physically alright, and soon after had called her mother and coldly informed her that Sara wouldn't be coming back home. No charges were pressed, no one wanted Sara to go through that. Her mother never argued, she had been surprised to see her at her graduation a few years later. She heard that her step-father had drunk himself to death the year before, but her mother never spoke to her to tell her the details. And now the only people she had ever loved were gone and Sara didn't know if she could handle everything without them.
She hadn't realized she'd been crying until a knock from the door brought her back to the present.
Nick stood uncertainly outside Sara's door, unsure of how she would react to his showing up here.
The door opened slowly and before she could say a word he pushed past her, 'What's wrong?"
"Come on in," she said a little sarcastically as she shut the door.
"It's obvious you've been crying, what happened?"
Maybe if she wasn't feeling so vulnerable at that moment, so off-balance, so lost, so utterly alone, she would have done what she always had and lie, but almost beyond her control she heard herself telling him.
"My grandparent's are dead."
She walked back to the couch before she could read his expression.
"When? Why didn't you say anything?" he paused, "is that why your mother came?"
"Yeah," Sara said softly, "she wanted to tell me in person, so I could see her happiness at the news."
Nick wasn't quite sure what she was talking about.
"Why would she want to do that?" he asked softly, sinking down beside her on the couch.
"Because she hates me and she hates them," Sara said bluntly, "hated—" she corrected herself, trying not to cry.
Nick gently put his arm around her and drew her to his shoulder.
"It's okay, you can cry," he said softly and so she did and Nick held her the whole time. Once her tears were spent she pulled back, embarrassed.
Nick saw the embarrassment and pretended like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if having one of his best friends cry on him was nothing unusual. He stood up and closed off all his questions. She was obviously feeling very vulnerable and he didn't want to upset her anymore.
"I'll leave you alone now. I'm really sorry about your grandparents," he walked to the door, "If you ever want to talk, I'm more than willing to listen," he offered before softly closing the door behind him, requiring no promises or false 'maybes.'
Sara didn't move for a few minutes, surprised she had let herself trust him that much and surprised that she was actually not that opposed to his suggestion.
She had nightmares that night, too. She was back at work early again the next day. Nick didn't embarrass her by saying anything and she went through all the motions of work. It wasn't until a little bit after lunck that her mother showed up again. She and Nick were just about to run some tests on fibers from their scene when she walked in the lab room. Sara was more than surprised, especially since her mother had said she wasn't going to see her again.
"Mother, what are you doing here?" Sara asked suspiciously. She felt nick move up next to her.
"I just had a talk with the lawyers and apparently your grandmother left you this note with specific instructions that I personally give it to you. The lawyers insisted I agree," she added in a tone that clearly implied that she had argued that point.
"Thank you mother," Sara said politely, moving forward to take the note. Without another word her mother turned and left. Nick was once again surprised at the coldness of the woman.
He turned to look at Sara, who was staring at the letter with absolute love. He quietly left the room so Sara could have some privacy. Sara noticed and waited until he was gone before she sank into one of the chairs and carefully opened the letter. Her eyes filled with tears at her grandmother's beautiful handwriting and had to blink several times before she could clearly make out the words.
Dear Sara~
If you are reading this letter then I am no longer living. I hope that by now you have a happy life- you deserve it. I also hope that you have forgiven yourself enough that you could handle your mother, forgive me if you couldn't. It was my hope that forcing you to see her would make you realize you can come to terms with your past. Sara, since the first night you came to us I have loved you like my own daughter and have often wept for all the pain you've had to endure. I just wanted to tell you something in case you've been having a little trouble figuring this out for yourself. Not everyone is like your mother and step-father, not everyone is out to hurt you. There are a lot of good people out there if you would let yourself trust them enough to find out. I know there's someone out there that's willing to listen. Talk to them- don't keep everything bottled up. I never pressed you for details because I never thought you were ready, but Sara, please tell someone. I'll be there for you always, even when you can't see me or call me, I'll always be there for you, not even death can take me from you. Please find a way to live your life fully. No one has earned their happiness more than you.
Love forever,
Your Gran
Sara closed her eyes as tears trickled down her face, but these were cleansing tears, healing tears. She could hear her grandmother's voice as she read the letter again. It calmed her and suddenly she knew she'd get through this because her grandmother was right- there were people out there willing to help and listen and she had been lucky enough to find one. With a soft smile on her face she found Nick waiting in the hall.
"You okay," he asked, still worried but relieved at the awareness in her eyes and smile on her face.
"I will be," she said, "about your offer, as long as you're still serious—"
"Always," he promised, taking her hand, "just name the time."
The gray-haired spirit smiled at their retreating backs, peacefully confident that everything would work out, and that Sara finally had a chance at some true happiness.