Disclaimer: see chap 1

A/N: Hope you like it! Eventually all the pieces of the puzzle will fit...


Chapter 4

The years passed and everything stayed as it was. I still lived in my very own house of horror. Speaking of a house, I broke down my tree house. It lost its meaning. I did that when I was 8. From that day on I considered myself an adult. My childhood was gone and took my happy memories with it. Anyway, the next thing I remember was when I was almost 13.

To be more precise, it was my birthday. I was doing my routine and as always I didn't expect a present. No, the fact that I was still able to breathe was a present, thank you Matthew. I never heard a thing of my brother. He had disappeared. For his own good, I can tell you that, if I had seen him back then, I would have killed him with my bare hands! He left me there, he broke his promise! Every time I looked in the mirror I had to puke. I couldn't see my own face anymore. There was too much resemblance. I even have the same stupid gab between my teeth. It's hideous, I'm hideous. I hated the face I saw in the mirror, and sometimes I still do.

I was cleaning the kitchen, so it was around 7.25 a.m. Matthew entered the kitchen and sat down on a chair. He inspected the kitchen, he always did, bastard. One time I forgot a glass. One glass. That cost me to be precise: bruised ribs, a broken wrist and a black eye. I could work for a theater or sorts. I was an expert in masking bruises. I could be one of the best, you know. He looked around, he couldn't find a mistake. I did everything as told. Good for me. Or not. I don't know why or what I had done wrong, but he wanted to beat me up again. I felt it. And this time I couldn't run. He grabbed me by the neck and pushed me to the floor. I started counting again. I did it every time since the first time. 4, 5, 6,…. He stopped? Normally he would go on till 12! I didn't get it, why did he stop?

"It's a special day today, isn't it? Well I have a special present for you…" I knew his presents, they were special alright, but they were never good.

He dragged me from the kitchen to my bedroom by my hair, I realized instantly how bad his present was going to be. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. Why would I, there was no way out. There would never be a way out. He started to beat me again. 7, 8, 9, … he stopped again, why did he stop now? I opened my eyes and saw Laura standing behind him. In her hand a large kitchen knife. I cursed, not because she stabbed Matthew, but because I just cleaned the damn knife. Now I had to clean it again. Thank you Laura, no really, thank you. Wait, she stabbed Matthew! She was yelling something but I couldn't understand.

She looked at me and yelled again: "Happy Birthday Sara! Happy Birthday, honey!" What? I mean, what? She stabbed him again and counted: 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. And then she stopped. All I could see was red. The furniture, the walls, my clothes…red. She was laughing. I smelled blood, the iron in it. Or better the irony in it: Laura stabbed Matthew 12 times for my birthday. She looked at me with the most friendly eyes I've ever known she had, I forgot she had beautiful eyes. And for a moment I saw my mother again. The person, who left me years ago, was back.

She looked at Matthew, her entire body stiffened, her eyes grew cold and distant. On the floor was her distant memory of happiness. Her love, her life, her future lay there on the floor. It is true, a Sidle is a fighter. He fought for his life. He wanted to get up, but he couldn't.

'How does it feels, Matthew, that you're down and can't get up?' I thought. 6 minutes later he breathed his final gasp of air. And then everything stopped. And in his eyes, I saw fear. That was the first time I saw a dead person. And honestly, they all look alike although you never get used to it.

"For you, Sara, be free, the light came for you, but not for me." That woman is insane. I just sat there, looking at her, confused… She found out! She found out and made the connection. But how could she understand what that meant. She had been in my room! She had violated my privacy. She had discovered the secret, the burden I carried for the past 6 years. I needed to get out. I crawled out of the bedroom. I was really good in blending in, disappearing in the environment. I was scared that she would come after me. I crawled to the closest phone and dialed 9-1-1. 10 excruciating minutes later the police arrived.

They took her away. "For you, Sara, just for you!" was the last thing she said. I sat against the wall, the blood of Matthew dripping of my face. My ribs hurt. My head too. Too much, just too much. "Sara? Hello, Sara dear?" A soft voice called my name. It was a woman of social services. She took me with her. From that day on I was the child whose mother stabbed her father and that was in the System. They could just call me Sara, that would be lovely. They placed me in numerous foster homes. I never fitted there.

My mother's trial was held in 1984. I wasn't there, didn't want to see her. I gave my statement and that was enough. I couldn't go through that again. She was sentenced to live. But not in a prison, no, in a closed mental institution in Cali. Not that I cared. The farther the better. A month or two later they found me a new foster home. A single mom with a son who was about my age. Great, couldn't care less. The first time I saw Sam, I knew that she was different. She was about 5'6", slim, had brown hair and green eyes. Those eyes…they were so caring, friendly and open. She took me in her home and considered me as her daughter from the first day. She introduced me to Brian, my new brother. I never forgot Matt, but for my concern, he was dead. Brian, well, typical teenager, he was pretty much the same as me. We shared the same interests: books, science, movies and music. I loved that place. They helped me to live again. To do things that I wanted to do. They let me be who I was. They helped me to find 'me' again...


R&R please... Will there be a light for Sara...who knows...Next chap will be up soon!