Author: Anisky
Email:
Summary: Jareth is haunting Sarah, and she is trying her hardest not to release his spirit.
Rating: PG (For darkness)
Disclaimer: Neither Jareth nor Sarah belong to me; I am making no money off of this.
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Prologue
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He was there, always, right behind her, leaning so that his lips were against her ear. He was there, always, whispering in her ear, watching everything from behind her. She could see him in the corner of her eye, but only in the corner of her eye; the moment she whirled around her head, he was gone, at first leaving her to wonder if he were there at all. But soon she could have no doubt, he was always there, always, or else she was crazy. She felt his hot breath on her ear as he whispered, whispered, distracting her, making her blush, stammer, stutter, halt, lose her train of thought as he laughed, teased, mocked, toyed, but mostly, endlessly, as he did all of this, whispered.
Her life was going down the drain.
Each night, every time she stepped into the bathroom, as she sat on the bus, she pleaded with him, begged, offered anything to him if he would only stop. "Say my name Sarah, say my name," he whispered into her ear whenever she did this.
But for some reason, she could not.
"Goblin King," she whispered back, over and over and over, while she was in class, with her friends, in her room, in the park. Teachers stared as she began to whisper it, again and again, a litany to make him go away, to make her life return to the way it was. "Goblin King. Goblin King." She muttered below her breath always, so nobody could hear, nobody would know what she was saying. Her lips moved, almost silently, and if someone listened they could hear the gentle hiss of words being spoken. But not what she was saying.
But it was not good enough.
"My name," he hissed in her ear, his breath suddenly cold, making goose bumps rise on Sarah's flesh. "You know it. Say it."
Yet, endlessly, for some reason, she could not.
Maybe she knew, deep down, that to say his name now would somehow undo those words, so painfully grasped at, those words that slipped through her fingers, her memory, her mind, those words that she could never remember, yet in the nick of time had remembered. Perhaps, deep down, on that level in her mind below what she knew she knew, she had grasped that to say his name now would be to give up that hard-earned right to say those words, to steal Toby back, to assert that he had no...
But he would.
Oh, he would.
No matter what Sarah knew, deep down in what she might call her heart, we all must know that nobody's subconscious warnings could possibly stand up in the face of that constant torture, the slow whispering that would inevitably drive her insane.
Is it better to be crazy, or to relinquish one's own power over oneself?
Most of us, those of us who are lucky, need never make such a decision.
Sarah Williams was quickly running out of options, as she felt her sanity slowly leaving, as cried and screamed and raged, not caring who watched, not caring if they locked her up, wanting it to end, drawing nearer and nearer to the conclusion that anything, anything, was better than this.
Inside, but on the level that she knew that she knew, Sarah was terrified of going crazy, of losing herself, of her grasp on reality slipping until Sarah would only be a shell of what she was, of what she is but is rapidly losing, and knowing that it would be just the same as dying.
And so she felt the word, such a small, simple word, bubble up, starting slowly, following the Goblin King's quiet, whispering coaxing. It was only sitting there in her throat for months, choking her as she tried to speak, and then it made its way to the back of her mouth, gagging her as she tried to breathe or eat, and when she didn't notice it, the Goblin King yet again distracting her, the word slipped onto her tongue. Within a few days, had made it to her lips. Try as she might to contain it, the word pushed its way through her lips and into the world.
"Jareth."
He laughed, his voice no longer quiet. With a sinking feeling, in the pit of her stomach, she knew that she had relinquished control of herself. She started shaking, uncontrollably, as Jareth's evil laughter became louder and her grasped her arm. She turned and saw him, actually saw him, as she looked at him dead on; unlike his phantom breath on her ear, his hand grasping her upper arm was harsh, firm, made her wince and cry out as his fingers dug into her skin. She saw his mouth, curled into a smile, not pleasant, no, in fact the least pleasant smile that she had ever seen. His eyes, cold, hard, without mirth, pity, warmth, or humanity.
"What's going to happen to me?" she whispered, terrified. His smile became wider and she could see that he loved her terror, thrived on it, was practically feeding on it and seemed to become even stronger as she broke down into sobs. She spared one last look into his eyes.
And then...
Nothing.