She knows that wishes are bad.
A trip through a giant maze and a poisoned peach taught her that, so why is it that she still makes them?
Sarah begins to think that she will never, never learn.
I wish the Goblin King would go away—forever—right now!
Of course she never meant it, but because what is said is said and she still apparently had her certain powers, he disappeared. Forever.
It hasn't been forever, in fact it's barely been an hour, but so far it has been a completely goblin-free hour and that it what unnerves her. They were eternally underfoot, so much that it was almost impossible to get anything under control…
But she didn't mind the goblins. For the most part they were harmless, and they stayed away from Toby—it was their King that did not.
It was just that he scared her, she tried to rationalize. He stood over Toby's crib but was not looking in, as if he had been waiting for somebody… And that had been the final straw. Fear choked her, but not long enough to keep her from yelling the wish.
He'd haunted her. In school, at home, at the park; she did not have a moment's peace.
But he never… he never…
She screams now, howling in rage and distress and probably pain, because it's not fair it's not fair it's not fair!
I think I liked him!
He was constant, at any rate. Her father was a ghost in her life, flitting in and out of the house for work or dates with Karen or something else that she probably never bothered to remember; and if her father was a ghost, her own mother was dead and buried.
Karen was a constant too, of course, but not a comforting constant. Truth be told, they fought like dogs; one too old to be undermined by an insecure teenager and one too young to realize that just the slightest bit of respect would heal the insecure woman's feelings. Their conversations escalated into screams and shrieks and slamming doors and, on an occasion or two, tears.
Which he was usually there to witness, if not dry.
He was never supposed to grant that wish—never supposed to leave her alone, damnit, but he did. He is gone.
And there isn't so much as a feather left behind on her windowsill.
A/N
Also, a disclaimer. I do not own Labyrinth, and I never will.