Chapter 57: Disbelief

The last thing I had remembered was seeing Alex's face, her expression unbearable in that millisecond she looked at me before falling. Before her heart suddenly stopped, and my world literally shattered beneath my own weight. But it was just a dream, it had to be. It couldn't have been real.

Alex's death, Roy's recognition, Patrick's appearance, my father's warnings. It was all a dream. It couldn't be real... or could it?

By the time I woke up, it was around noon. But instead of being in my own bed, or anywhere near what could've been (a.k.a. my hotel room, or something of the sorts), I was somewhere unrecognizable. But at the same time, I knew where I was.

I opened my eyes and let my blurry vision clear up. The room was dark, and the only light I could see was the little light flickering through the black, thick curtains. Or what I thought to be black, thick curtains. I really couldn't tell.

Pulling off the covers a sudden wave of cold air hit me with a shock. I was cold, and it wasn't natural. I ran my hand over my stomach and my eyes widened. My dress was gone. I could feel the familiar fabric of my underwear and slightly sighed, thanking God that I was at least in something.

Carefully, I got up, my feet walking in a straight line to attempt to avoid anything I might step on, or run into. Reaching the curtains, I pulled them back, squinting as the sudden rush of sunlight hit the room. I looked back.

The room was dull, but awkwardly fancy. Everything matched. The patterns on the thick comforters, the curtains, the walls. Black and White. That was the theme. And it didn't seem right. At all.

"I see you're awake now." I heard as soon as my eyes left the door and trailed to the other windows, still covered in curtains. I jumped, attempting to cover half of me with my bare arms. It didn't exactly go as planned.

"Oh my God! What the hell is wrong with you!" I yelled and Patrick gave me a satisfied grin.

"You do realize that your arms aren't going to help and that I've seen everything, right?" I glared at him, folding my arms against my chest.

"Speaking of that, where the hell did my dress go?" I could see him roll his eyes as he closed the door behind him, throwing the duffel bag that I hadn't seen him holding onto the bed and opening the rest of the curtains.

"In that bag. I didn't think that you slept in scratchy dresses like that, or is just me being a total dick for actually caring for you." I unzipped the bag and saw my dress, torn at the side. But there was more than just a ratty dress in the bag, there were clothes. Tons of them. All in my size.

"What the hell are you doing, Patrick? What are you doing here?"

"Well," He said, turning around, "At first I came here to track you down, since you left me - again, I might add - all alone with my dying mother and five-year old daughter. But now, seeing that, well, things have happened, and you're in total denial, I have even more reason to stay."

"What the hell are you talking about, denial? I am not in denial." Denial? Seriously? Did Patrick truly believe that I was in denial?

"See. You're in denial about you being in denial. My evidence just keeps piling up." He smiled slightly, like he had just said a joke, but I didn't react.

"Alex isn't dead." I said sternly and suddenly. Patrick's smile faded and I looked away. "She can't be dead. She can't."

"Sarah... Alex is dead." He had to be lying. He just had to. There was no way around it. "How much did you drink last night?" Patrick suddenly said after a long pause. I turned on my heel to look at him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The sudden subject change caught me off guard.

"Sarah, I've known you since you were fifteen. You've been through hell and back all your life. Every time you have to see or affiliate with your dad, you drink. It eases the pain you've endured. Helps you cope with the fact that you can't kill him, and you never will. Just tell me, how much did you drink last night?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything? So maybe I might've had a drink or two, but what the hell does that have to do with anything, right now? What the hell does-" My words were quick, but Patrick still succeeded in interrupting me.

"Sarah! You ran away from your only sister's death scene like a mouse being chased by a cat. You ran until you couldn't run any longer. You're not just in denial of Alex's death, you're in denial of everything. Your dad's advantage on you, is one of many of them. I don't know how you feel right now. I can't imagine the pain of knowing that you're only sister is dead. I can't imagine what's going through in your mind. It kills me to know that I can't help you with that. It's pains me, believe me. But maybe if you just talked to me-"

"You're kidding, right?" Patrick's face was blank. "Oh my God. Seriously? Do you realize what the hell you just said. You can't help me! That's the end of it! So why don't you go home, already? 'Cause I see no need of you staying here when Lydia's dying and Madeline's probably home alone with her, just counting the minutes and the days till her father comes home." I slipped on a pair of jeans I found in the duffel bag and pulled on a white T-shirt. Slipping on thin socks and a pair of Converse, Patrick opened his mouth. "Don't. I don't want to hear whatever the hell you have to say. Not right now. And probably not ever."

With that, I was gone, I walked out of the bedroom and to the front door with Patrick trailing me. But by the time I got to the front door, Patrick had stopped meters behind. My eyes were wide as I looked back into the living room of the apartment, at the two people sitting on the couch, hands intertwined together and faces full of worry. My breathing was labored as I spoke.

"You have got to be kidding me..." I mumbled.

"Sarah... thank God..." Dinah stood up, walking my way, but I backed up in disbelief. What the hell was Dinah and Oliver doing here, let alone, what the hell were they doing here with Patrick?

"Did you...?" I looked at Patrick, but his face was blank.

"They were worried. You've been out for hours on end." I looked back at Dinah and Oliver, my facial expression telling them to explain. Right now.

"No one believes us when we've said that she was your sister. Because of your name change, your family tree technically does not apply. No one's been listening to us long enough to hear our side of the story, and Roy's quiet. We have a feeling that he doesn't know a thing -" Before they could finish I ran. Out the door and onto the street, running to the nearest zeta tube, which for the record was probably not even in that city. Fifteen minutes later I thanked God when I found one. But that was nothing. Dinah and Oliver, they were nothing. Nothing compared to the hell I was about to be put through.