The Chapters of Life

Chapter Four: My Immortal

I'm so tired of being here

Suppressed by all my childish fears

And if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

'Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

Evanescence, My Immortal

"Are you all right?"

Sarah shielded her eyes from the sun as she turned to her friend. "Katherine?"

The red-haired girl sat on the towel beside her, still watching her closely. "You seem a bit... out of it today."

Sarah shrugged, turning her eyes away from her friend. "Crazy morning. That's all." She surveyed the swimming pool before her, where her other friends were making a great racket trying to drown each other. She noted warily that Keith was part of the group – how the blond boy had come to be in her backyard, she couldn't remember. He had been walking with her friends after school, talking mainly with Thomas, and, well, now here he was.

Katherine kept her own eyes on Sarah. "That's it? Nothing else?"

"Nothing," Sarah said. She kept her voice calm. "Why? Is there something wrong, Kat?"

"I don't know – you just seem like you're about to bolt any time," Katherine confessed.

Sarah didn't know whether to grimace and grin. "I'm fine." She stood up. "Let's go before we end up with three dead bodies in my swimming pool, shall we?"

"Sure." Katherine didn't press.

Her friend was extremely observant, Sarah mused as she joined the fray in the water. Either that or she was being very obvious in showing her deepest emotions. In any case, Katherine was close to knowing what she was really feeling, what she was trying hard to hide.

The only thing her friend had been wrong about was the bolting part. Sarah wasn't about to bolt – she was already running as fast as she could.

The swimming ended only when everyone was too exhausted to do anything more. Afterwards they had barbeque for dinner, sitting under the parasol and chatting about everything and nothing. By evening, a bonfire had been started, as far away from the house as possible in order to pacify Sarah's parents.

Sarah noted grimly that both her father and her step-mother were watching her strangely, almost anxiously, at times, and exchanging worrying glances when they thought she wasn't looking. Francine just might turn out to be right about her prediction of Karen's condition, she thought.

Now they were sitting around the fire, only occasionally throwing something at each other, talking when they wanted to.

"Well, I think everyone's here, now," Sarah said when they had settled down. A few more friends had come from school for the dinner, and there were now eight of them.

"Ah, and you know what that means," Thomas said from across the fire, his eyes eerily gleaming.

"We close off the yard now and begin the blood sacrifice?" Eric, Sarah's childhood neighbour, asked with a shrug.

"As wonderful as that sounds, no," said Thomas. "I was more thinking along the lines of presents."

Sarah laughed, shivering a little in the cold as she tightened the blanket around her, grateful for the warmth it provided. The evening air was chilly, and the trees surrounding her house loomed darkly around them all.

"I'm almost scared to receive them, seeing how excited Thomas is to give his to me," she said.

He waved away her concerns. "Shall we begin, then?" At the murmur of general agreement throughout the circle, he grinned. "All right, then, everybody go get their gifts, and Sarah, you stay here."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. All around, her friends began to get up and run towards the house to get their gifts - all except one.

Sarah cursed inwardly when she saw that a certain boy, sitting not five steps away from her, had not moved. But of course, she realized. Keith had just been invited to come rather vaguely today, and would not have had time to prepare a gift for her.

As if reading her thoughts, he turned to her with a wry smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize – well, I didn't have enough time to get you a present, I'm afraid. You will get one, I promise, by tomorrow, though."

"Don't worry about it," said Sarah. Without the warm sanctuary of her friends, sitting alone in the dark outside with a boy she barely knew with only a blanket around her, she was beginning to feel the sleek coldness of gradual terror seize her once more. The talk of gifts did not help, reminding her of something that waited inside her room…

"Thank you for inviting me here today, Sarah." Keith's voice cut through her thoughts. "It was very nice of you to add me to this party."

Sarah shrugged, feeling suddenly awkward under his gaze. "You know what they say – the more the merrier," she said, forcing a smile and looking into the flickering fire. She did not mention that she could not remember actually inviting him along and was still yet unsure how that happened.

Keith must have been thinking of the same thing. "Then again, as I recall, it was Thomas who more or less dragged me here without quite consulting you, so I suppose you didn't really have the chance to reject me right away," he said, giving a light, amused sigh.

She laughed, thinking of her loud, ubiquitous friend. "Oh, I'm sure I would have invited you if I'd known you well enough to know you'd want to come," Sarah said.

"I have to confess that I would have liked to come very much," Keith said. She involuntarily met his eyes, dark behind the glasses he wore, as something in his tone made her look over at him. He smiled, revealing his teeth. "I had to wonder what being at Sarah Williams' house would be like."

Any feeling of safety she had left fleeing, Sarah gripped the blankets, inside where he could not see them. Her pulse quickened.

"I -"

Before she could say, scream, whimper, or perform any of the thousands of other forms of verbally releasing her stress and fear that were passing through her mind, a brightly wrapped box was suddenly thrust under nose.

"Happy birthday!" Thomas said, happily. Sarah twisted around to see that her friends were coming back.

"Thank you, Thomas," she said, accepting the box from him and refusing to look back at Keith, though she had a paranoid feeling that he was still watching her closely. Her heart beat frantically. She felt like running into the woods and hiding in the darkness until she could breathe properly. Instead, she smiled at her friends as they handed gift after gift and thanked each of them.

As she went through the routine of opening one at a time and shrieking in delight before hugging the person who had given her the gift, Sarah could not help but feel relieved. There was nothing out of the ordinary among them: books, gift cards, occasional money, and the birthday cards full of personal jokes and quips. No anonymous gifts of jewelry or old, worn out books. No magic.

In the end, they all ended up lying on their backs on the damp grass and looking up at the night sky until her parents came out of the house.

"Sarah, it's time for your friends to return home, it's getting way too late. Their parents will be worrying," her father said, expressing concern but implying dismissal.

Her friends were old enough to know what he really meant. After wishing Sarah happy birthday again, they all left.

Sarah watched them go with growing trepidation. More than once, she wanted to ask her parents if at least one of them could sleep over, but one look at the drawn face of Karen and she knew that it wouldn't be possible, no matter how quiet she promised to be.

And so, in less than twenty minutes, her friends left her, even Thomas, who was always reluctant to end any fun, and even Katherine and Francine, her best friends who were always last to leave.

Sarah was left alone.

"Had fun?" Her father asked as he helped her clean up the mess the party had left behind.

"Yep," Sarah answered, then hesitated, looking around. "Where's Karen?" Her step-mother had been in the kitchen with them just moments ago.

A look of concern flitted in and out of her father's face. "Went back to bed, perhaps. She's been extremely tired."

"She hasn't been looking well lately," Sarah agreed. She paused to sweep all the garbage left on the table into the garbage can, and to gather her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was casual. "There isn't anything wrong with her, is there? I mean, besides the exhaustion caused by Toby?"

She could practically hear the shutters in her father's face go down. "No, there isn't, of course. Why should there be? It's just that taking care of a baby is extremely tiring, as I'm sure you know by now." His voice was just as casual.

Sarah bit her lips, stealing a quick glance at her father. The set jaws told her that she would not be getting anywhere much tonight; her father had always avoided any conversations that might be awkward with Sarah, as if afraid to do anything that might damage their relationship.

Most times, Sarah understood that. Raising a child after divorce, then remarrying wasn't easy. Especially with how dramatic she had been in childhood, he was allowed to be a bit of an avoider. She hated that when she was a child, always having wanted to him to open the closed door of her bedroom and walk in to talk to her rather than leave her alone when she told him to go away.

By now, she'd learned that keeping up the appearance of being a happy family was just as crucial to being a happy family as being actually happy was. She and her father learned to avoid tough issues, let things go, let things lie.

Not tonight, though. Tonight she was tired, tonight she wanted answers she already suspected – tonight, she was scared to death of going up into her room alone, just like a little child being afraid of the dark. She didn't mind confrontations, if they were going to keep her from being alone for just a little bit longer.

So it was with a streak of her old defiance when she said, "Maybe you should take her to a doctor, or something. You never know. It could be… well, anything. Not that I want anything to happen, it's just that I'm worried about her."

She waited for his response.

She never got it, not really.

"Mmm, maybe, sweetheart. That's not a bad idea." Her father straightened, and pretended to do a quick survey of the place. "Well, I think we're pretty much done, so why don't you go to bed now? We can clean up the rest tomorrow morning." Without waiting for an answer, he gave her a quick peck on the forehead. "Good night, and happy birthday."

Then he was gone, and Sarah was really alone.

Her mouth curved in a sardonic smile, though she hardly knew why. Sarah took a deep breath before putting down the garbage can, and walked upstairs. She took a nice long time in washing up. She took even longer changing into her pajamas.

When she finally opened the door to her bed room and walked in, she was half expecting the place to have turned into a burning cauldron, with a particularly sinister goblin king in the middle. Instead, she found the room just as she had left it – messy, with books everywhere, clothes hanging from the most unusual places, the bed unmade… and the box and the note still beside her bed.

After glancing quickly to make sure that the window was closed, Sarah walked slowly to her bed, then sat down. Her eyes were glued to the box and the note. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, and she briefly considered just lying down to sleep.

She knew that she couldn't. Her curiosity was too much. Finally, with a shaking hand, she reached over and took the note into hand, bringing it closer to her head and squinting in the dark to read it.

Sarah.

I couldn't not give you a present on your eighteenth birthday, could I? Especially when you were so gracious as to take such good care of the two I had already given you before.

Sarah's hand involuntarily reached over the bracelet on her wrist. Why hadshe never taken it off for long?

Not wanting to waste any time, anxious to know what the rest of the note said, her eyes were already moving on, her mind ignoring the question.

I admit I wasn't sure I was going to give you for a long time – not until last night, in fact. But our interesting talk gave me some ideas…

So here you are. Open the box, and don't be too mad at me, please. I only hoped to give you something that might help you from now on, in our little game.

Good luck with your gift, and best of lucks with finding out who I am. Will I help you? (Will you let me help you?) Or will I end up playing the evil goblin king who only deters you from your goals again?

Quite frankly, I don't even know myself.

Happy birthday, Sarah.

J.

Sarah read the letter only once. She didn't need to read it any more times; the words were ingrained in her mind.

She put down the piece of paper slowly. Then she turned to the box, staring at it for long moments before finally picked it up.

Its cover was leather, a reddish brown colour, with golden swirls that only added to its elegance. A latch held it closed, and Sarah ran her fingers over it many times.

A little something to help you in "our little game".

"That's not fair," Sarah whispered, then immediately winced. Whatever had happened to being mature?

Yet… "I never agreed to play any games," she went on. Her hands now held the box still, save the trembling. Her whole body was shaking.

"I don't even know what this 'game' is. What the rules are, what the stakes are, hell, what I'm even supposed to aim for."

There was no answer. Only the kind of completely still silence that only happens at night was present.

Sarah blinked. Had she been expecting something to happen? Had she beenwanting him to show up?

An explanation might have been nice, her mind argued, but she rather felt as though demanding an explanation was not what she had in mind.

Her eyes narrowed. Biting her bottom lip, Sarah placed the box roughly down on the table back again.

"I'm not playing any games," she announced. Then, before she could feel the disappointment that no wild-haired fey turned up to argue with her words, she curled up under her bed covers, and attempted to sleep.

She would never be sure if sleep had come to her that night. But dreams had certainly come.

She was in a room filled with people. Everyone was wearing masks, huge, obnoxious things that only created a feeling of monstrocity rather than hide anything. Everywhere she looked, dancers wearing larger-than-life clothes that could only be described as repulsive were packed into small spaces, bodies pressed against each other.

She had seen this room before, she realized. It was vaguely familiar. Yet from where?

She walked restlessly, from one mob of dancers to another, trying hard not to get sucked in, looking for something. But for what?

She didn't know. But she had the feeling that it was most important.

Desperate, she walked and walked.

Then she saw the back of the blond hair, the grand suit that was as frightening as any other attire that others were wearing. As she drew close, not even knowing why, but needing to, he turned.

A pair of mismatched eyes glanced at her. Her breath caught in her throat. A face that looked so other-wordly, an expression that was cold and sizzling at the same time, eyes that could draw anyone in, the blond hair that was so stylishly untamed…

But…

That wasn't Jareth, Sarah realized with astonishment and… horror. He was smiling and walking towards her, reaching out a hand in a gesture that was so familiar… but his hair was too short, his face too young, his body built too light… it wasn't Jareth…

Was it?

And why did it matter?

Before she could answer that question, before she could bolt, before she could make any decision, her hand was caught in his.

Outside, his arm leaning on a tree, a blond-haired boy was watching her window from some distance away. His eyes were mismatched, and his face held a smug expression that, had Sarah seen it, she would have recognized instantly.

Finally, he pushed himself off the tree. "Sweet dreams, Sarah," he whispered once in the direction of her house before walking off into the woods.

Seconds later, a white barn owl crashed through her bedroom window.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! As you can probably guess from the last line, some Jareth&Sarah interaction is coming up in the next chapter, and hopefully any confusion will be solved - save, of course, some confusion that I'm hoping you're feeling and which I'm leaving until some time later.

Thank you for all who read and reviewed! As always, reviews for this chapter are welcome!