Bella worriedly glanced toward her friend when they entered the bedroom that was haunting Sarah's memories. Too much had happened in that room for the sudden sight of it, still slightly trashed, to not reek havoc on her heart and mind. Last night threatened to take over her thoughts, but she squished it back into the crevices, refusing to deal with that at the moment.
Focus... Clothes, purse, keys, door.
That mantra became her lifeline. Bella tightened her grip around Sarah's uninjured arm, growing increasingly worried. She could see Sarah murmuring something, but couldn't make out the exact words.
Sarah carefully extracted her grip from Bella's, navigating through the debris that covered the once spotless floor of her previous bedroom. His bedroom, no longer her own. The ache in her chest was stinging, threatening to explode, but she held it closed with her equally wounded hand that nestled itself in the middle of her chest.
Bella fidgeted, fluttering behind her like a mother hen, making sure she didn't harm herself further.
"Broken glass."
"I see it, Bells."
"Broken figurines."
"See it."
"Bro-.."
"I get it, Bells! I'm not blind!" Sarah finally snapped, spinning about with a hiss. Bella froze, eyes wide and glistening with worry. She lowered her gaze, bouncing from foot to foot nervously.
"Sorry.. I was just.." Sarah reached out, wrapping her best friend up in her arms. "I know, Bells. I'm sorry, too." Bella carefully returned the embrace.
After a couple of seconds, Sarah growing increasingly agitated with the bedroom the longer they stood in it, they separated and continued their trek to the closet. Bella disappeared into the walk-in, grabbing a pair of ragged denim shorts, and a black wife beater. Sarah reached just inside the closet, yanked open a drawer, and grabbed a pair of socks. They quickly exited the bedroom.
In the hall bathroom, Sarah carefully wiggled out of her sweat pants, wincing when the movement strained the wounds on her knuckles. When it came to removing her top, she grudgingly lifted her arms, and let Bella remove the shirt. She even let her replace it with the black wife beater.
A knock echoed in the small bathroom, Bella spinning around in front of Sarah to face the door. "Yes?"
"You ready?" Peter's gruff voice rang out, causing unexplainable heat to burn Sarah's cheeks. She quickly, and carefully, pulled the shorts on and nodded to Bella, who opened the door. Peter's eyes grazed over Sarah, lingering a little too long on her bare legs.
Bella gently pushed Sarah around to her displeasure, pulling her hair into a messy pony tail and secured it with a hair scrunchie that was around her wrist.
"Now we're ready."
"I still need shoes, damn it. Ones that don't hurt my feet more then necessary." Sarah grumbled, dodging past both Bella, Jasper, and Peter to stalk down the hall, treading carefully on wounded soles like a new born kitten.
Jasper shook his head, staring over Peter's shoulder at Sarah. He skirted around his brother, darting forward to scoop her up against his chest. Her surprised shriek from the sudden disappearance of the ground from beneath her feet rang in his ears.
"Fuckin' hell, Jazz! People really need to warn a girl before they go all caveman on them!"
Bella giggled, tucking a fist against her mouth, struggling to keep the noise in. Peter just shook his head with a smile. Jasper squeezed the bundle in his arms, ignoring the squeak and grumbling, and continued on toward the bedroom.
He dropped her on the bed, tossed a pillow at her face, and darted for the closet for safety as the pillow was chucked right back at him. It thudded against the wall, then to the ground. Peeking around the edge of the doorway, he stuck his tongue out at her, and stepped out with a pair of fuzzy slippers in his hand.
"Good?" He grinned as she perked up at the sight of her favorite slippers.
"He told me they got chewed up when we had that god-forsaken mutt!"
Jasper shrugged, ambling over to slip them carefully onto her feet. Once the comfortable shoes were in place, he scooped her up off the bed and back against his chest. Disregarding her protests, and ignoring the beats against his biceps, he carted her back into the hallway, past his brother and wife, and outside to the truck.
"But I want to drive!" Sarah growled when she was plopped in the front passenger seat. He shook his head, and boosted Bella up into the back seat. Peter glanced at the glowering Sarah whose glares of anger would surely knock Jasper to the ground dead. However, his brother was just humming a merrily tune as he moved around the truck to climb into the back seat beside his wife.
"Um... Why am I drivin'?" Peter questioned, gulping as the rage-filled gaze of his love interest settled onto him. He licked his lips, glancing toward his brother who was smirking.
"'Cause I want to sit with my ol' lady, and you want to sit with yo-..." A delicate hand found itself over Jasper's mouth mid-sentence. Peter flashed Bella a grateful look, while Sarah turned a questioning gaze to her friend. Bella fidgeted under the stare.
After an awkward moment of Sarah switching from glaring at Peter, giving Jasper deadly looks, and aiming Bella with a 'You will tell me' stare, Peter finally slid into the driver seat, started the engine, and pulled away from the drive way.
The drive was the most excruciating drive both he and Bella have ever had. Jasper was humming the merrily tune, gazing at Sarah with a peculiar expression that just screamed I know something you don't, while Sarah was twisted in her seat, nestled against the door, and glaring into the rear-view mirror.
The trip only lasted roughly ten minutes to the nearest Wal-mart. Peter almost wanted to kiss the ground from being stuck in the suffocating atmosphere that had clouded the interior of the truck. It was so thick you could practically cut it with a finger.
Sarah slid out of the truck before anyone could stop her, quickly but carefully making her way toward the entrance. Peter quickly exited the truck, rushing off after her with Bella and Jasper on his heels.
"Damn it, I cannot walk! I want to use one of those motor-operated carts!" Bella separated from her husband and brother-in-law at the angry shout.
"Ma'am, I saw you walk into the store on your own two feet." The associate tried to placate Sarah, who was only growing more and more angry as the seconds worn on and the wounds on the bottom of her feet started smarting.
"Do you not see the bandages around my feet! Or are you so fuckin' blind that you cannot see the whiteness over the top of these black slippers?"
"Ma'am, we only allow people with serious disabilities operate-.."
"Bein' obese and diabetic with a mild case of stupidity and alcoholism is NOT a valid excuse for operating a damn cart! Now, either you let me use one of those God-forsaken machines or I WILL cause a scene!"
By the time Bella, Jasper and Peter arrived, a group of bystanders had arrived at the entrance. Most of the people standing around Sarah and the associate nodded and murmured to themselves, agreeing with the complaints flying from the angry female's mouth.
"Ma'am-.."
Sarah leaned in, reading the name on the tag stuck to the Wal-mart associate's chest.
"Mark? Is that your name, Mark? Well, look here, Mark. I don't give a FUCK what you think, but because I am not an obese, diabetic, alcoholic does NOT allow you to not 'permit'.." She emphasized permit with air quotes. " me to ride one of those damn motorized wheel-chairs MEANT for people who cannot walk for long periods of time on their feet. Would you like to see what happens to my feet when I walk for longer then necessary? Or stand in place too long to ARGUE over some STUPID fucktards opinion such as your own?"
Sarah slipped her foot out of the slipper, and lifted it up for the crowd and Mark to see. Blood darkened the gauze around her foot from where the friction from walking, and the pressure against the still healing wounds started to ooze blood.
A cough over her shoulder had her spinning about, the Manager standing behind her with a disapproving gaze settled on the associate, Mark.
"Ma'am, what seems to be the problem?"
"Well, sir. I attempted to get one of your motorized wheelchairs from Mr. Mark here..." She waved a hand toward the person in question who was fidgeting beneath the attention, his acne filled face growing increasingly paler by the second. ".. and because I am not medically ill with a medical disease he said I may not use one, that I was just lazy and had no real need to use it."
A set of keys were passed to Sarah's hand without any further question, and she settled onto the seat of the cart. Once the cart was started, she whirled away at a measly five miles per hour. The device carrying her away from where the angry voice of the Manager was ripping the associate a new one.
Bella gaped at Sarah, stunned beyond belief at the female who was humming a tune that was eerily happy. Jasper and Peter just shook their heads, muttered "That's our Sarah", and followed behind the cruising female with a shopping cart.
"Sarah, what kind of dishes do you want to replace the broken ones with?" Bella hesitantly broke the silence.
"I'm thinkin' of buying the hard plastic, not the porcelain or china 'cause that shit breaks too easily. And for the glasses I'm buyin' hard plastic too. Fuck the actually glass shit. I'm not lookin' to accidentally cut myself doin' dishes one night." Sarah grumbled out, glaring at the passing customers who gave her weird looks.
One had her freezing in her tracks, though. A male, who stood roughly 6'5", was dressed in a hot pink, glittering shirt that said "I love Vampires" and a black mini skirt that was way too short. He was even wearing six inch heels.
She blinked. Then blinked again, but busting into hysterical laughter. "Is.. there.. seriously.. a trans..vestite?" She snorted, curled over on the seat, laughing. Bella's lips quivered with the strain of keeping the laughter in. Jasper and Peter made a disgusted face.
"At least his legs are shaved."
Sarah shuddered, cruising forward again. She was passing the jewelry section when she lost focus, and it was like she was in the middle of a movie that was playing around her... and no one noticed she was there.
Memory; Sarah's P.O.V
Dean was standing on the other side of the counter from where I sat in the wheel-chair, and she was standing beside him, peering in at the beautiful jewelry splayed out. Glittering necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings, and anklets caught her eye, beautiful in the craft and setting. The gems in the jewelry sparkled and shined, reflected in the black of her eyes. I could see the diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires from here, just by staring at the pupils that were so stark against the sea foam.
She was beautiful too; in the way her hair was messily styled, the way her clothes were technically considered sleepwear, and in the way she carried herself that caused him to gravitate around her. The clerk behind the desk stared in envy at the way he catered to her wishes, and how she catered to his.
I, too, was envious when the smile brightened her face, and Dean pressed against her back and side to peer over her shoulder at what she was pointing at. The clerk muttered something, low, unheard from where I stood, and at the insistent nod from Sarah, she retrieved the item in question.
Sarah slipped it onto her finger, and I drifted closer to the counter to gain a better view. A white gold band fit her ring finger perfectly. Sparkling sapphires, surrounding by smaller cut diamonds, were set in a beautiful flower pattern that wasn't overly flashy, but was dainty and delicate like she herself was except she wasn't all dainty and delicate and rose like.
She's not fragile, said the hickeys on the back of her shoulders, said the tattoo's decorating her skin, said the scars from motorcycle accidents, and other accidents that were in some way or fashion her fault.
But Sarah didn't want that ring, no, she wanted a different one that she had seen. Once the sapphire ring that maybe spoke too closely of her in the delicacy, in the sturdiness, of the contradictions, was given back to the clerk who, at a certain look from Dean, set to the side, retrieved the second item she requested.
925, the inside of the band glared, but it was perfect, it was beautifully set, it was.. her materialized. A silver band cradled her finger in its hold, three small diamonds were set in a sun-flare design in a row atop a raised tower of grooved lines that held the sets in place, but let the air coast beneath the jewels.
It wasn't real, but more real than the flashy ring she first saw. It was as real as she was, which was very real. Simply there, with more truth then lies, not fake, fake, but not. It was her, just like her. It was just as bright, as there, as she herself was. The personality from the ring was enough to draw Dean into the gaze, capturing him just like she did in her ring. It was perfect. Perfectly her own. Perfectly her.
It told a story about their relationship. A continued circle with bumps and scuffs that were easily worked out and beautified by their love. It was simple, yet complicated in it's own little simple way. It was bright, but only when glossed and kept in mint condition.
One look at the happiness, and love, and the glow of their love, on her face and on her finger, and the ring was bought. Bought for her. Worn by her. Still worn.
I fingered the ring still on my finger, unknowingly reopening the wound in my chest and letting the current of tears rein free, cutting trails down my cheeks.
He bought it to symbolize his love for her, she wore it to symbolize the love she felt. It glowed, and glistened, and caused envious cougars to descend, giving congratulations and other happy and love related words. While she was drowning in the sea of over-dressed, botox'd, fake cougars with their lion talons and fangs that just seeped snake venom and spider venom at the sight before them, he bought the second ring. Meant for much much more then a promise.
A forever. Beside him. With him. Forever. That word is no longer in my vocabulary.
He dove. Right into the sea of cougars. Whispers, and pawing, and clawing, and hissing, all trying to lure him away from her, but it didn't work, no, not then, never then. But it did, just not then. But it did.
He saved her. Rescued her from the drowning, the clawing, the talons and fangs, and fangs and talons. He saved her. But he killed her.
They exited the wal-mart, purchases in hand. On finger, tucked in pockets. A future promised, forever laid out in front of them. Cougars slunk behind, plotting, scheming. He will be theirs.
End Memory. Normal P.O.V
The sudden echo of voices rang in her ears, causing her to rapidly shake her head.
"What?" Her eyes opened wide when she noticed the female standing in front of her behind the counter, the same counter from before. The same lady gave her the envious look once she saw the ring that was previously bought.
Bella worriedly gazed down at her friend who sat, unaware, in the chair that tears had been racing, coursing down her beautiful face that didn't deserve the wear and tear of tears. But tears make the beauty stronger, glow.
"Why did you head over here?" Jasper furrowed his brow as he asked the question. Peter leaned back against the counter, glaring heatedly with the same envious expression as the clerk at the ring she had been toying with and still was.
"It's nothing." She snapped bitterly, glaring coldly at the clerk who had turned into a cougar within a couple months. With a whirl, she raced, at a snails pace, away from the jewelry counter and toward the home décor. Bella gave Jasper a questioning look, but he only shrugged, then nodded when she mouthed 'I'll talk to her.'
They quickly caught up to her once she rounded a corner, griping at customers and children that got in the way of her wheel-chair of motorized doom.
"Get out of my way ye damn whipper-snapper!" She mimicked an elderly man, waving her fist almost mockingly at the children who just giggled and nestled against their parent's, who just stared weirdly down at the strange female.
Whirl, whirl, whirl, but she was finally in front of the dishware isle that loomed in front of her.
"Seriously? So many fuckin' different type of damn dishes, and I only need enough to last me seven days! Not even if I do dishes every damn day!" She grumbled, whirling forward on the god-forsaken machine that whined with every crawl forward.
She reached out, snatching a couple of the hard-plastic, partially see-through plates in various different colors; cobalt, violet, crimson, and set them inside the basket on the front of the machine. The isle was too narrow, however, when she attempted to turn around to grab silverware, so she got off the machine, and manually grabbed the items she wanted.
She was reaching out to grab a set of multi-colored bowls in the same colors as the plates when a warmth pressed against her side and back, throwing her into a flash back type of thing, another movie where no one else noticed her.
Wal-mart Memory Sequence No. 2; Sarah's P.O.V.
I wasn't standing in the same spot that I was now, but just a ways down the isle. I turned toward that direction, watching, silent, lethal in my gaze.
She was reaching, straining, the shelves too high for her tiny, pixie height, dwarfed by that of Dean behind her. Taller, willowy but strong, oak. Reaching, finger tips barely kissing the bottom of the plate that was desperately desired. Needed. Wanted. Had to have it.
He tried to bargain, get her attention on another plate of a similar design. But no. This one was perfect, beautiful in the design, the complex but simple, but the intricate designs were simple in appearance, but in truth, it was simply complicated. Again, her materialized into a possession.
He pleaded. Begged and pleaded, pleaded and begged to no prevail. She wouldn't budge, could never budge, was stubborn, and impenetrable.
He spoke of another plate, but she silenced him with a snap. Always hard, mean, but loving too. It worked.
A step, a single step, brought warmth, burning burning lava, against her side and her back, evenly spreading the warmth, the heat that threatened to burn, to devour, to melt her clothes off her body. Consummate, fire. It burns.
He towered, willowy stretch. He delivered the plate she desired, needed, wanted, had to have. The warmth burned when she turned, front to front, eye-to-eye, connected in soul, mind, heart and body. It almost ate them alive, but no, not here, not where the cougars could see. Their talons and fangs, fangs and talons were deadly. Poisonous, venomous. Dead.
I shook my head, pressing my forehead into my hands, almost painfully trying to claw my skin open to feel the rush of adrenaline, the endorphins. I needed them to numb this agony, but it would only create a more permanent one. A physical one. No.
I felt a nudge against my shoulder. No one was suppose to see me. You can't see me. But when I turned, I looked into the face of my best friend. Forever. It's promised, and meant here. Been there. For everything. Love. Worry. Care. Friendship.
End Memory Sequence No.2; Normal P.O.V.
Sarah rapidly shook her head to dispel the thoughts, the memories piling in front of the safe door that, despite being metal, bulged and threatened to erupt with pain and tears. Peter pulled a couple small sandwich plates from the shelve, setting them in the cart of the machinery.
"Thanks." Sarah murmured, suffocated by the presence but comforted all the same. Safety, comfort, it reminded her too strongly of the memory she just exited. But while he was willowy, and tall, Peter was willowy and cider, impenetrable by pests.
The group quickly round up the other necessary dishes needed to restock the house that no longer felt like home. Dinner plates, serving plates, sandwich plates, soup bowls, salad bowls, and cups that were plastic, not glass. No more glass.
Sarah sat back on the seat of the wheel-chair scooter, whirling forward without another look back at her friends.
Bella hurried forward, following along side Sarah while Jasper and Peter followed at a more slower pace.
"Do you plan on doin' more then just bein' around here? Ya really plannin' on helpin' her heal?" Jasper questioned his brother, watching with an affectionate smile as Bella managed to make Sarah laugh a bitter, but true laugh. It rang through the store, cold, bitter but warm, a contradiction in itself like her ring that promised forever.
"I do, Major." Peter responded, fading back into the older days, when both he and Jasper were in the army. Jasper quickly ripped through the ranks until he was classified as the youngest Major alive in the core. "I love her, Jasper. I don't know when I really fell for her, but damn it.. It's been here for a long time."
Jasper nodded, glancing away from the two who held most of his heart equally to his brother, his comrade. "Don't do to her like he did. I will kill you, despite you bein' my blood. And even if I don't, you'll want to hide from Emmett and Bella."
Peter smiled, nodding as he turned his attention back to the two girl's bickering playfully in front of them. They quickened their pace to hear what was going on.
"No, I refuse to buy that, Bella!"
"Come on, Sarah! Buy the damn thing!"
"It's too big!"
"It's perfect, damn it! It even vibrates!"
"I don't care if it has the little feely nubby things that are 'spose to feel REALLY good, or if it's made of silicone, I am not buying it!"
Peter quirked a brow at the conversation. "Sex toys? Wal-mart carries sex toys?"
Jasper blinked a few times, glancing toward his brother. "I don't think so."
They quickly rounded the corner, catching Bella and Sarah arguing over a pillow that supposedly massaged your back, or where ever it was up against.
"No! And that's final! Now, I will buy this!" Sarah snapped, snatching up a fluffy lavender pillow that was easily twice her size, and tucked it on her lap, whirling away. Bella pouted, grabbed up another pillow similar to the one Sarah grabbed but tinier, and followed after her friend.
Jasper and Peter just shook their heads, and followed the two to the registers. Sarah whirled through the isle, passed an arguing couple who weren't paying attention to the line, and started unloading her items onto the conveyor belt, humming 'Friends in Low Places' by Garth Brooks.
Sarah snatched the pillow from Bella, who yelled in protest, but before she could grab it back, it was scanned and added to the total. Sarah stuck her tongue out at Bella, who pouted, but allowed the transaction to finish.
"Is that all, Ma'am?" The cashier asked, and Sarah squinted, leaning forward to read the name-tag. Laurent.
"Laurent. How do you say your name? Lauren-t? Or is it like croissant? But with Laurent?" The olive skinned man just stared at her with disbelief on his face. Sarah reached out, toying with the ends of the dreads drifting down past his chest.
"And if employees get judged by their hair color, how come you can come in here with dreads? That's funky and makes you look like a thug, or a wannabe thug. Mr. Thug-Laurent, do you happen to have a gun on your person?" The cashier didn't respond, but just handed her a receipt once she swiped her credit card.
"Answer my questions!"
"..."
"Oh fine! I am never returning here again! You are a horrible worker who just made this store look bad in my eyes! I will tell my friends about this!"
Just as Sarah shouted that in outrage, the same manager from before strode past, but once the words registered in his thoughts, he returned, and approached Laurent, speaking to him with just as much anger as with Mark.
Sarah whirled away from the register, Bella snickering behind her hand beside her, with a wide, chaotic smile across her lips. Her mischief for the day had been achieved.
Instead of dropping the wheel-chair scooter back with Mark, who started fidgeting like a scared bird caught by a deadly feline, she whisked past him with a whistling tune, the whirling of the machinery mixing with the sound horribly.
She whirled out into the parking lot, a symphony of horns and yelling causing her friends to run after her frantically.
"'Ey! Don't you know how to watch where you are goin'! Mentally challenged person here! Can't you see my car? You wrecked it! And you ran over my puppy! My poor, poor, newborn puppy! How dare you! Murderer!"
Jasper smacked her hand over Sarah's mouth, hoisting her out of the chair, "Sorry, my friend here forgot to take her medicine. OW!"
Despite the bite to his hand, Jasper held on tight, and carried her toward the truck as Bella hopped on the machine and whirled after them. He plopped her in the passenger seat, shaking his head at her amused grin, and helped unload the groceries from the cart.
Sarah pouted at her pillow, and without glancing toward her, Peter handed her the pillow she bought. Once the pillow was in her possession, she crawled over the middle console into the back seat, stretched out with the pillow, and quickly passed out right there on the bench seat. Bella shook her head at Peter when he went to go climb into the driver seat, and motioned him toward the back seat. Jasper climbed into the driver seat, letting his wife take the passenger seat to curl up with her pillow as well.
Peter slid beneath Sarah's feet, gently rubbing her calves, which had her murmuring contently in her sleep. Jasper started the truck, pulled out off the parking spot, and headed back for the house that was no longer a home, no longer Sarah's safe haven.
A finger tip traced a tattoo design that darkened the skin around Sarah's calve, and Peter promised to himself that he would figure out what every single tattoo on her body meant, even if it took forever.
But forever was no longer a word in Sarah's vocabulary.