Despite her determined vow to fix everything that had gone wrong, Sarah's life began to settle into a calm, normal routine. As much as she would have loved to drop everything in her life and focus on nothing but finding ways to get back to the Labyrinth, she had obligations that she couldn't just ignore.
Her thesis, in particular, called to her. During the week or so that Sarah had been paralyzed by her misery, she'd gotten behind on her deadlines. In order to catch up to where she was supposed to be (approximately 50 typed pages), Sarah had to work like a speed demon and devote most of her hours to research and taking notes.
Brian tried to contact her more than once, but Sarah refused to listen, and even took to hanging up the instant she heard his voice on the other line. He stopped by her parents' house to visit her, since she hadn't been back to her apartment in a while, but she didn't answer the door when he knocked. He tried roses, chocolates, even tickets to the opera, but Sarah was unmoved. As far as she was concerned, he was wasting his time and money on a lost cause.
Any time that Sarah began to feel any pain over him, any weakening of her resolve, she would simply remind herself of Brian's infidelity, and the cracks in her armor would heal over immediately.
To force Brian even further from her mind, she would simply conjure up images of Jareth. Now that she'd admitted to herself that she had feelings – of a sort – for Jareth, she allowed herself to think about him as much as she wanted. Her heart would thump crazily in a way that she hadn't felt since she was young at the thought of his proud eyes that sometimes filled with heat when he looked at her, his trim yet masculine figure, and even the strange blond hair that looked every bit as soft as an owl's feather. Sarah couldn't even say what it was that she found so confoundedly attractive about him, but whatever it was, it made her ache to be near him. Her feelings were further heightened by the odd sense of relief that came from acknowledging the magnetic pull of the man. She'd denied it for twelve years, and now, owning up to it was almost like being healed after being in pain for so long that one would forget life without pain, would barely even recognize it.
Then, however, Sarah would remember Toby and would immediately feel guilty that she entertained such lascivious thoughts about the man who had separated them and had done God-knows-what to her little brother. She refused to let herself believe that Toby had been utterly removed from existence; at worst, surely, he'd been turned into a goblin when she failed to rescue him in this strange, new timeline. At best, he'd been raised as a child to Jareth and a prince of the goblins… which, come to think of it, wasn't a fabulous alternative. She shuddered to think of her sensitive little brother being raised by a man whose idea of fun was putting frightened people through hell in order to snatch loved ones from a fate almost worse than death. Sarah tried to hate Jareth; goodness knows she tried as hard as she could, but hating him was no longer a possibility. Not for her.
And so she continued, day after day, thinking about them constantly, trying to come up with a plan of some sort. No matter how she scratched her head and puzzled over it all, though, she simply couldn't think of any way to get Jareth's attention or, at the very least, to get back to the Labyrinth.
The Labyrinth didn't respond to her fervent wishes, which wasn't a particularly large surprise. She'd tried wishing for it many times, but not so much as a single pathetic goblin showed up in response. The first time she'd gotten extremely frustrated and had screamed for Jareth to come and face her, but… still nothing. She'd been forced to conclude that either Jareth hated her enough to ignore her, or hadn't been listening to her to begin with. She tried hard not to be too hurt by the thought of him hating or ignoring her, but it was nearly impossible.
After about two weeks of this roller coaster of emotion and thesis research, Sarah's father and Ruth returned home from their vacation. Though Ruth looked at Sarah with cautious eyes, the phone call where Sarah had mentioned Toby went unmentioned. And much as Sarah hated to admit it, not having Toby around was coming to seem more and more normal. If Ruth and Sarah's father had any residual suspicion from baby Toby's disappearance, they certainly didn't let on about it. At times, it was even enjoyable to be treated as an only child. Whenever Sarah would start to feel like that, she would harshly remind herself how much she loved and missed her little brother.
Though Sarah liked being at home, with no little brother to take care of, and with her parents home to take care of the house, it was only a matter of days before she decided to return to her apartment. It was with only a small amount of regret that she hugged her father, kissed Ruth on the cheek, told them that she was heading out, and climbed into her VW Bug for the long drive home.
It was a two hour trip back to her apartment, so she turned the radio up as loud as it would go and sang along with every song she heard – somewhat off-key, but enjoyable nonetheless.
Stopped at a traffic light, Sarah leaned her head back against the head-rest and squinted her eyes against the oncoming sun. As the sun eased behind a building and half its rays seemed suddenly to be extinguished, the light turned a distinct reddish-orange color. Sarah couldn't stop herself from letting out a gasp as she was reminded of the dusty color of the sky and the world at the entrance to the Labyrinth. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to dream that she had magically been whisked there, away from the modern world and all ordinary cares.
Then, however, the traffic light turned green and the car behind her let out an impatient honk. Sarah reluctantly dragged herself back to the real world and stepped on the gas pedal.
Upon arriving back at her apartment, Sarah was surprised at how alien the place felt. True, she had been away for several weeks, but this small apartment had been her home for close to four years, and had always felt quite utterly cozy to her. Now, however, upon stepping inside, she shivered involuntarily. She hadn't remembered leaving the door unlocked, but it was, leaving her feeling even more off-balance. Though flicking the light switch helped to banish some of the dark shadows in the front room, she still felt as though she were breaking into someone else's home: it was both off-putting and wrong.
Despite her foreboding, she dumped her bags on the couch and continued on to her bedroom. She flipped the switch and her mouth dropped wide open.
It wasn't her room.
She couldn't say what it was exactly. After all, the room was clean and it wasn't as though she'd ever hung up any pictures or posters that reflected her personality. It looked like her room, but standing in the doorway and looking in, Sarah knew without a doubt that she didn't live here.
"Must've walked into the wrong apartment," she muttered, hastily turning off the light and hurrying back to the front room.
She flung the front door open and looked at the chipped gold numbers on the other side: 3A. Sarah frowned. It was her apartment. At least, 3A was her apartment. This place just didn't feel right.
Sarah could have stood and puzzled over it all day long had not a chubby, middle-aged woman walked down the hall, her arms loaded with groceries. She stopped dead at the sight of Sarah standing in the open doorway, opened her mouth, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
Startled, Sarah jumped backwards and clapped her hands over her ears.
For some reason, that made the woman scream even louder.
Within seconds, the landlord came running down the hall and skidded to a halt in front of the two women, puffing slightly. Sarah had never been so glad to see his chubby frame in her entire life. The other woman seemed to feel the same way, because she stopped screaming and hid behind him.
"What's going on up here?" he snapped. "It sounds like someone's being murdered!"
"Larry," Sarah said earnestly, "I'm sorry about this – this is my apartment, right?"
Behind Larry, the woman let out a cry of indignation. "This is my apartment! I just came back from shopping, and… and this stranger was standing in my doorway!"
"But – but I live in 3A," Sarah replied, a sick feeling spreading through her guts. "…Don't I?"
Larry looked Sarah up and down. He snorted. "Lady, this is her apartment," he said gesturing to the frizzy-haired woman cowering behind him. "Ms. Geoffard's lived in 3A for almost six years."
"Really…" Sarah replied faintly. How could she have made such a big mistake? "I'm so sorry, Ma'am," she apologized sincerely, her cheeks flushing a dark red. "I don't know how I could have thought – that is – I mean – just let me grab my stuff and I'll be out of your hair – you might want to consider locking your door when you go out. Ahem." Turning around, Sarah made a wild grab for her bags. "L-Larry?" she asked, slipping the bags' handles over her wrist and stepping out into the hall. "I – this is going to sound like a strange question, but I – I could have sworn that I lived in 3A. Um, which apartment – do I live in?"
He gave her a strange look as Ms. Geoffard slipped into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind her. "Listen, lady… You don't live here."
"I…don't?"
"I've never seen you before in my life."
"How can that be?" Sarah exclaimed, the sick feeling in her stomach spreading across her body. "I've lived here since I graduated from college!"
He sighed. "You look like a nice girl, so let's not cause a fuss, hmmm? Leave quietly, and I won't have to call the cops about this."
She knew she lived there, she knew it, but nonetheless, Sarah allowed Larry to escort her out of the building. She sensed, rather than saw, him shaking his head, and could almost hear him thinking, "Poor crazy girl."
Confused and not a little panicky, Sarah climbed into her car, hurled her bags onto the passenger seat, and pulled out her cell phone. She punched in the number for home with a desperation that the "old" Sarah never would have allowed to show.
"Come on, damnit," she muttered as the beeps sounded in her ear. "Pick up, pick up…"
Finally, there was a click on the other end and her father's voice spoke. "Hello?"
"Hello, Dad?" Sarah asked, worrying tingeing her voice.
"Sarah? Is everything okay?"
"I – I don't know." She laughed soundlessly. "Dad, where do I live?"
"What?"
"I know it sounds weird – it is weird – but I got to my building, and, um, according to the landlord, I don't live there and I never have, and so now I don't know – I can't remember where I actually live!"
"Sarah, honey, where are you?" Now he sounded out-and-out worried… not that Sarah could blame him.
"Dad, just tell me!" she said, her voice rising. "Where do I live?"
"You live here. At home, with Ruth and me."
Sarah's mouth worked soundlessly. She lived at home?
"Sarah?" her father asked urgently. "Are you still there?"
"Y—yes. I'm – But, Dad, if I live… If I live at home, then where did you think I was going when I left today?"
"You said you were headed out, so we assumed that you were going to the library in the city to work on your thesis."
"But I took my clothes!"
"You usually do… Sometimes your research goes so well that you get a motel room in town for a couple nights so that you don't have to commute every day… Sarah, don't you remember this? What's going on?"
"I… okay." She exhaled. "Never mind, Dad. I'll come home now."
"No, honey, I don't think you should drive right now. Where are you? I'll come get you."
"I'm really okay. I'll be home in a couple hours. I'm a capable adult. Really," she added, as if that would accomplish anything.
"Sarah—"
She cut him off by closing the cell phone with an experienced flick of the wrist, and tossed the phone into the backseat. The silence in her car rang heavily in her ears, but she didn't turn the music on.
"How can this be?" she muttered. "I never left home?" As much as she would have loved to be confused by what was happening, she understood it all too well.
Upon graduation from college, her father and Ruth had invited her to come and live at home while she was going to grad school closer to home and working on her thesis; after all, it would save her a lot of money on food, rent, and amenities. She'd appreciated the offer but had declined, saying that they already had their hands full with Toby, who, at 8 years old, was being difficult, and she wanted more independence.
It seemed, though, that with no Toby to use as an excuse, she'd wound up moving back home after all.
She'd been so affected by losing Toby and feeling his absence at home every day, she'd never paused to think that it might have had other effects on her life, and as she'd barely ventured from home, she hadn't had to face any of them until now.
With a hollow feeling in her chest, Sarah sighed deeply, turned the car on, and prepared for another two hour long drive back to her parents' house.
By the time she arrived home, the sun had long since sunk below the horizon, and alone in the dark of the silent car, it was easy for Sarah to think gloomy thoughts. At night, all of her determined optimism faded away in the face of the reality of the situation. She was alone, trapped in a timeline that had no right to exist, and with no real plans of ever escaping from it. Odds were that after her accidental wrecking of the Labyrinth, neither Jareth nor anyone else around there ever wanted to see or hear from her again. What chance did she have? No, she would just be doomed to live forever in a world where she had failed to protect her little brother and her friends. She would go to her grave regretting her closed-mindedness and her utter inability to see what was going on all around her until it was too late.
Too late, too late.
It was these worrisome and draining thoughts that accompanied her from the car up the front walk, and to the door of the house, which was abruptly thrown open. Light spilled from the windows and the open door as Sarah's father rushed to grab her in a tight hug.
"For god's sake, don't you ever hang up on me like that again, young lady! I was very worried!"
Sarah hung uncomfortably in his hug. "Sorry, Dad," she muttered. "I, uh, the cell phone lost the signal, and I figured I'd just drive home."
"Come on, let's get you inside." As he ushered her inside, Sarah saw the concern still writ plain on his face. "Sarah, what was going on with you? Are you all right?"
"I was fine, really," she said, somewhat unconvincingly. "I just – Well, you know what it's like when you fall asleep, and have a really realistic dream, and then you wake up and totally forget that it was a dream? Yeah, I was just really disoriented. I'm okay now, I promise."
He didn't believe her. She could tell. Luckily for Sarah, though, as he opened his mouth to question her, Ruth walked into the front hall and cut him off smoothly.
"Sarah, dear, welcome home! Oh, you look exhausted… I know that it's early, but I've put fresh sheets on your bed, so if you want to go to sleep anytime soon, you should be comfortable. I've also put some of the roast from dinner in the fridge, so if you're hungry, all you have to do is pop it in the microwave for about a minute thirty." She then turned her attention to Sarah's father. "David, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about something the boss said at work today. Come on, then!" Ruth grabbed his arm and practically towed him out of the room, only pausing to call back towards Sarah, "While I was cleaning under the couch, I found a few pages of your thesis notes. I put them up in your room!"
Sarah had never loved Ruth half as much as she did at that moment. Her father was just about the last person she felt like dealing with, and Ruth had knowingly gotten him out of the way and cleared the path for Sarah to make a clean break to her room. Refusing to squander the opportunity, Sarah shouldered her bags and took the stairs two at a time.
She didn't feel safe, though, until her door was closed and locked securely behind her. With a heartfelt groan, Sarah dropped her bags against the door and practically fell face-down on the bed.
She could have fallen asleep right then and there had not something crackled annoyingly underneath her body. Feeling around, she drew out several crumpled pages with writing all over them.
"Oh, yeah," Sarah murmured tiredly. "Ruth said something about notes." Despite her exhaustion, she quickly leafed through the sheets of paper to see what notes they were.
As she looked, a frown furrowed her brow. Not only did these notes not ring any bells in her head, they barely made any sense whatsoever. It was definitely her handwriting, but the pages were filled with utter gibberish.
"I must have done these while I was…" Sarah shrugged. It must have been during the week that she barely remembered. Interested in what she'd written, Sarah leaned back against the wall and started from the beginning.
A half hour later, Sarah was more confused with the notes than when she'd started. All of the notes were in complete sentences, and all of the words in the sentences were real. Nonetheless, not a single sentence made any sort of sense, particularly not in the form of thesis notes. Though she wished that she knew what she'd meant when she'd written, "This blue banana does not speak politely to the dog," it seemed like a waste of time to try to figure it out. Most likely, Sarah had simply been in some form of delerium at the time.
Of the several pages of notes, there was only one real sentence, but it was scrawled in the margin instead of written neatly on the page, and it was the most cryptic and intriguing sentence of all. It read: "Often, true happiness requires a leap of faith, but beware, for you're as likely to fall as you are to be lifted up."
"I don't understand," Sarah puzzled aloud. "Why would I have written that, and what does it mean? Why does only that make sense?" She frowned down at the sentence, repeating it over and over again. "True happiness requires… True happiness requires…"
She thought about it while she changed into pajamas, and while she turned out her lights and climbed into bed. Lying there in the dark with her eyes closed, Sarah furrowed her brow and continued to mutter it to herself.
Suddenly, there it was. It was so clear, so quickly, that Sarah's eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed. "…Requires a leap of faith…" she breathed.
And she knew what she had to do. She knew what to do, and a grim smile spread over her face. "Either I'll get back to the Labyrinth or I'll die trying."
Despite her worries about what she now knew she had to do, Sarah closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
The next day passed quietly. Her father and Ruth were at work for the majority of the day, so Sarah didn't have to deal with them much. By the time she woke up, it was already close to noon. Sarah spent the hours calmly, enjoying the sunlight.
At around 4:00 in the afternoon, Ruth called. "Sarah, dear, how's your day going?"
"All right," Sarah replied cautiously. "What's up?"
"Your father and I were considering going out to dinner tonight… We'd be happy to have you if you'd like to join us, but you don't have to."
"Well… Thank you, Ruth, but I think I'll sit this one out," Sarah said. She would have liked to see them, but things would go much more smoothly if her parents weren't around.
"Okay, then. Next time. Talk to you later, Sarah!"
Sarah hung up with a calmness that surprised her. The sun was setting and it was time to get ready.
It was barely an hour later when Sarah, clad only in her nightgown, closed the front door to her house, and walked down the path to her car. Only then did she allow herself to turn around and take in the sight of her house with wide eyes. She'd spent a lot of years in that house, and now she didn't know if she'd ever see it again. She'd left a note for her father and Ruth, but it was cryptic, and now Sarah just tried to keep herself from thinking of how they'd feel when – if – if she…
She took a deep breath, and climbed into her car. Slowly starting up the car, Sarah drove down the street and around the corner without another glance backwards.
It hadn't taken her long to decide where she would go, and luckily for Sarah, it was both relatively close to her house and quite secluded. Back when she was a teenager, they would all go up to the cliff overlooking the ocean to make out, but as the people in her age group had grown up and started to move away from the town, the overlook had slowly become more and more deserted. Now, if you went up on a weekday, odds were that no one would be there.
Leaving the town's lights behind, Sarah parked her car in the woods and climbed out. The forest floor stung against her bare feet, but she didn't let that bother her. All that mattered was reaching the cliff.
As she emerged from the woods, she glanced around quickly, and smiled a little. As she'd surmised, the area was deserted. The sea wind whipped her white nightgown around her legs as she moved to the edge of the cliff.
"This is it," she whispered. "My last chance." One way or another, her worries were about to end. Sarah took a deep breath and smoothed her hair back from her face, but the wind loosened it and blew it around some more.
Slowly, curling her toes around the edge of the cliff, not wanting to look down, Sarah spread her arms wide and stared up at the sky. She fervently prayed to God, or to whoever was listening, that she hadn't been given up on entirely. If she had, then she was about to make the biggest – and last – mistake of her life.
"Leap of faith," she breathed, and squeezed her eyes closed. Leap of faith.
The sound of the waves crashing abnormally loud in her ears, Sarah slowly released her toes' grip on the edge of the cliff, and tilted forward, her arms still spread wide as if to fly.
And Sarah fell.
...Author's Note: I updated! Again! What will happen? Is Sarah going to fall to her death? Fat chance! So stay tuned to find out how it all unwinds!
