Sarah released an angry sigh as the shining Ford Land Rover finally turned out of her drive, its two occupants sillueted in the tinted glass.
The pain of her violent divorce and abuse that followed had begun to lessen, though the deep veined anger that coursed through her was constantly kept in check, simmering under the surface. Today however seemed to allow an exception.
She stood, stretched and suddenly before she could stop herself rushed out the front door. It was high summer in Miami and the heat was like a baking furnace, practically knocking the air out of her lungs. The whole of Miami had become a barren wasteland, grass burnt in a final judgement as the temperature hit extreme drought. Concrete cracked and the sound of satisfied cicadas overwhelmed the heavy air. People lounged lethargically in the shadows, savouring the mild relief. In this slow world, Sarah's energy was completely out of place, wild and eye-catching. She sauntered over to the mailbox and grabbed a pile of letters awaiting her, official and still chilled from the cold distribution office. Anyone looking on would have noticed a tall, shapely woman with flowing black hair that fell perfectly strait past her shoulders. She walked with an easy grace that dominated the air around her.
Turning on her heel she strode sharply back into her small two room apartment, resisting the immense desire to sprint the last four remaining meters. This apartment was a merely a transition, she had told herself, just big enough to store her life and just small enough to balance her delicately tight budget. That had been before trouble started. She quickly closed the door, sealing herself once again in her deliciously air conditioned prison. Only when she had slammed the dead bolt did she allow herself to sink to the floor. "Nothing happened. Nothing." She whispered happily to herself.
Sarah didn't leave 'home' much. In fact she avoided it to the point where she could almost be called a recluse. A trip to the supermarket had become a major expedition. 'It was safer this way' she decided stubbornly. If a hated voice in her head whispered that she was shutting herself away from the world she ignored it. But in reality she was slowly sinking below the surface- and no one even seemed to really notice. Picking herself up she walked into her small bedroom, flopping limply down on the old single bed. It was still ruffled from a fitful nights sleep. Shuffling through the letters she turned back t the first one. It seemed to ooze officialty and had a computer emblazed business logo in the top left corner, 'Timpany and Walton'. Alarm bells rang out as she ripped the letter open with trembling fingers. It was her ex-husbands lawyer.
It was a long, cold, uncaring letter that is easier translated into the main point; he was taking her to court for custody of her daughter.
To anyone inexperienced looking in then may have thought that she was indifferent to this letter. But anyone who knew her better would have noticed her hazel eyes contract, filled with fire. Slowly she floated into her kitten, feeling detached from her body. Numb. Carefully Sarah picked up an old fashioned glass cup from the drying rack. Weighing it in her hands she turned and hurled it with all her strength at the old fireplace in the corner. It shattered into a million pieces with a single satisfying crack.
This sound is almost impossible to accurately describe, but I have to tell you that it is one of the most satisfying sounds on earth. Im sure anyone who has heard it will agree that it alleviates a lot of anger. And I mean a LOT.
Sarah rolled her shoulders and in a calmer state, turned back to her bedroom when her eyes were drawn to the other bedroom door. Cartoon character painted wooden letters etched out the words 'Jamie's Room'. Sighing, she changed her course and gently rested her forehead on the cold, whitewashed door.
Sarah had changed. As she grew up after the Labyrinth she tried and tried to fill an empty space inside. She felt so alone in a crowd and desperately wanted out. Then came Jessie. Looking back now, she could only reason that in her disparity to be wanted he had manipulated her emotions. At age 19 she had changed from Sarah Williams to Sarah Hanson and discovered too late that marriage to Jessie was not the answer. Jessie was unreliable, sadist and constantly sarcastic. When only twenty, Sarah had a little girl she named Jamie. Jamie grew to be like a second Sarah and whenever Sarah wondered to the point of her whole life was she came up with one solid reason; Jamie. It is amazing that we can title deep emotions and great entity's with single syllables and words. To Sarah, Jamie was one of those words.
Jessie was less and less at home and Sarah began to realise that he was cheating on her. She firmly decided that she would stay with him long enough for Jamie to grow up a little. Until the day she couldn't take it anymore…. As a teen she had been stubborn, imaginative and intelligent. She was a genuinely kind person, some could say to kind for her own good sometimes. But years of Jessie had made her strong willed, determined and more stubborn the ever. She had become capable of ruthless cruelty and she guarded the few close things to her heart with bulldog teeth. She had learnt to think with her head as well as her heart. The biggest difference was that there was a whole new emotion, constantly simmering beneath her cool and calm exterior. Rage.
Rage is one of the emotions that if not alleviated or exorcized in some way it warps breaks out dangerously. Rage, Valium and Adrenaline are in this way similar. You become so pumped that you no longer are consciously aware of what is possible and what is impossible.
Standing still numbed her and she turned her mind away. If she was tip-toeing around her predicament, she ignored it. Opening the door she sat on Jamie's bed. The room was almost a perfect replica of her own room at that age. Smiling slightly she looked around. Similar vanity, maze game, Lancelot, Bookshelf- something was missing….. Sarah's eyes widened as she realised, the Labyrinth with its bright red cover was missing!
Jareth stifled a yawn as he looked upon the Goblin City from a turret. 1252 years of governing goblins and the job was beginning to get old. Old? Boring? Unbearable? As time went on it seemed to get worse. Not that it mattered now. Soon he would have all the entertainment he ever needed… and more. His plan was going ahead on schedule. He allowed a single satisfied smirk to pass over his face as he conjured am image in a bubble like crystal ball of the last time he had seen her. He hadn't seen her since those searing words, "you have no power over me." she seemed to have a shieldprotecting her from his magic. This was something he constantly pondered… not that he was obsessed with her. Far from it. Or so he told himself anyway. A small child's wail suddenly filled the air. Christ, had no one heard of birth control these days? Failing that at least volume control? Stifling a growl as a second howl revibrated off the still, humid air the warily turned away to investigate.
Jamie sat perfectly still, statue like as they pulled into the concrete subterranean car park. She had entered a giant sprawling metropolis (she was to young to know the name) where her daddy lived. She didn't really care, her mind was fill with other things. Ugly goblins, pretty winged Fairies, pampered longhaired Princesses filled her 5 year old mind. Last night mummy had told her another story about a place called Underground. She spoke of how creul the Goblin King was, but her eyes contradicted all she said. The showed with hidden tears and Jamie had gave her a big hug and a kiss.
Beside her, daddy complained about 'over priced parking lots' as he opened the side door of his new car. He had spent a lot of time telling her that this was an expensive 'land rover' (what ever that was) and that she mustn't spill anything in it. When she told him that the native people of New Zealand had a mixed language of Maori and English, and that they called a car a car when everything else was said funny in their language he ignored her. She was highly tempted to spill her salty MacDonald's fries and Coke on the upholstery. Not only that, this confirmed her long held theory that daddy only cared about some green paper he refired to reverently as 'Money'. He roughly grabbed her Pokemon suitcase as she slid out of the high seat onto the hard ground. The sun had begun to sink behind a giant bug-eyed building and she yawned before trotting after daddy. He turned around and pressed a button on a black plastic remote in his had. The car made a beeping noise in return. A smile spread wide over his face and Jamie knew it wasn't for her.
Tucked into a cold makeshift bed in her daddy's apartment, Jamie shivered. She was cold and alone in a place she didn't know. She yearned to be able to curl up beside Mummy. But not Daddy. Daddy scared her. She started to cry, softly at first, then getting louder and louder as she curled into a tight ball, shoulders trembling. Suddenly the light was flicked on and Daddy strode blinking into the room. "its ok Jamie, calm down" his voice sounded stretched and angry, but Jamie could only cry harder.
Grabbing a small book from her bag he sat at the end of her bed. Jamie knew that the little red book was important to Mummy, but she always felt safe around it. And besides, Mummy probably wouldn't even notice it was missing anyway. Daddy opened it a page near the beginning. "…and she was tired from a day of house cleaning and her stepmother's harsh words. Then her baby brother started to cry and she wished, how she wished to speak the words that would make the Goblin king take him away. But she didn't dare, for she knew that He would turn him into a Goblin and keep him forever."
His voice was a boring drawl, not a all like Mummy's. She could make a story come to life. She felt a pang inside her and tightly closed her swollen eyes as he continued in the same monotonous tone. He flipped a few pages and started "…as she turned away she murmured quietly '" I wish the Goblins would take you away, Right Now!"' He paused and looked at the kid. She appeared to be asleep. Sighing with relief he laid the Childs book down and walked back to bed. Later he would remember hearing light scuttling and scuffling from his daughter's bedroom, but he simply ignored it as the soft blanket of sleep washed over him.