Sarah had thought she was over it. She was so sure she was done with her past; he was dead and she alive, she had nothing to fear of him. Yet, that fear was there, a dark thing lurking in every cell of Sarah's body. She hid in her closet for two days, never eating, rarely sleeping and only leave to run to the bathroom and back.
She cried for the first twelve hours, until it felt that she had no tears left, and spent the rest of the time in terrified silence. All she could see was his face, when she closed her eyes, when she opened them and stared at the crack of light that touched her bare toes. Even when the sun went down and the room was pitch black, Sarah still saw him, her eyes wide in the darkness.
It wasn't until the evening when Charlotte showed up, first banging on the front door, and then barging her way into Sarah's apartment. Sarah listened to her girlfriend's screaming, stiff in the corner of the closet and waited to be found. It didn't take Charlotte long before she flung the closet door open and stood in the frame, staring down at Sarah.
"What the hell," she said through gritted teeth, "are you doing?"
"Charlotte, listen," Sarah said, running her fingers through her unwashed hair. "Something … something happened."
Charlotte crossed her arms over chest, her head cocked slightly, and waited. Sarah knew the looked instantly; she only had a few seconds to convince her to listen.
"I was at that explosion that's been all over the news," Sarah said through her hands, "I – I did— this woman was there and she attacked me and I panicked."
"What's this all about?" Charlotte asked loudly, the disbelief heavy in her voice.
"She saw me, Charlotte," Sarah said desperately, "she saw what I can do."
Charlotte stood silent for a moment, before seating herself down beside Sarah. She took Sarah's hand and held it tight.
"I'm scared," Sarah said, "I feel like … it feels like he's back or something."
"Sarah," Charlotte sighed, "he's dead. You watched him die. I watched him die. "
"I know, I know. I know he's not back. But, that fear, like I'm suffocating, it won't go away. Every time I think about that woman and the kid I feel like I can't breathe. I can feel him, Christ I can fucking smell him. He's dead, but I think a little part of him is still with me … God, does that even make any sense?"
"Okay, you need to slow down and tell me what happened," Charlotte said, "but let's get out of the closet."
"Charlotte, I've been out of the closet for years," Sarah said.
Charlotte laughed and pulled Sarah to her feet and guided her into the kitchen. An hour later and several drinks in, Sarah finished explaining everything that had happened two days before and they now sat in silence as each contemplated what to do next.
"You could leave," Charlotte suggested as she refilled her wine glass.
"Nah," Sarah said, "Augustine will be waiting for me to do that. Besides, the D.U.P have the city locked tight. I wouldn't even make it to the checkpoint before getting caught."
Sarah's anxiety had finally settled and she felt clearer headed than she had in a while, despite the purr of the wine in the back of her head. She drained her glass in a large gulp and sat back in her chair. The sun had already set and Sarah stared at her own reflection in the window.
She was an average looking twenty something, neither beautiful nor ugly. Her dark hair hung down to her elbows in dirty strands and framed pallid skin and bright hazel eyes. Charlotte was something of the opposite. Astoundingly beautiful, she had strawberry blonde hair that she kept in short curls and a face that seemed to glow. A dusting of freckles across her nose brought out the gold hues of her brown eyes. Sarah often wondered what it was about herself that attracted Charlotte.
"What about work?" Charlotte asked, opening another bottle of wine and emptying almost half its contents into Sarah's glass.
"I have sick days," Sarah said. "I called in yesterday, said I had some kind of super flu."
"Sarah," Charlotte said softly, "I think it's time we reconsider moving in together."
It wasn't that Sarah didn't love Charlotte, or that she couldn't stand being around her, but the idea of living with her put Sarah's stomach in turmoil. Even the thought of living with her parents again made Sarah shiver. She couldn't trust herself to not lose control in one of her night terrors and unleash some monster by accident. And if she did that while someone else was in the same room, she didn't know what would happen. She had no control in her sleep, no way to stop the monsters from destroying any living thing in its path.
It had, after all, happened before.
"No." Sarah said sharply. "No, and you know why, Charlotte. I am not going to have your death on my consciousness too."
"Eric deserved to die," Charlotte retorted and it was like her words sucked all the air out of the kitchen.
Sarah hadn't heard his name in months, hadn't even spoken it herself and hearing it again felt like a blow to the stomach. She felt the smallest of prickles ripple down her back. Sarah held her breath for several seconds and snapped the rubber band around her wrist, the band that she never took off, the only thing that seemed to ground her when she felt reality starting to slip away.
Charlotte placed her hands over Sarah's, stopping the constant snap, snap, snap of the band. Her fingers traced over the red welt left behind on Sarah's skin.
"You can't do this on your own," Charlotte said, "let me help you."
Sarah sighed, "fine. Just until all this blows over."
Charlotte smiled widely, pulled Sarah to her feet and dragged her into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and started pulling Sarah's clothes off.
"In," she said, "you stink."
"Hello, my baby."
His voice was low and husky, a voice that was hard to forget, even in passing. It was the first thing Sarah had noticed about him and it was now what tortured her. He would talk to her in the dark, first at the doorway. He would keep the room pitch dark and move slowly, talking, and Sarah could only guess where he was in proximity to her bound body.
Often times he would stop talking when he got close and Sarah could feel him there, feet from her, before he was on top of her body, his knees tight against her hips to keep her from thrashing.
"You're more beautiful than the day I met you," he purred, his lips close to Sarah's ear, his stubble rubbing against her cheek. "God, I'll always remember that day, won't you?"
Sarah stared past him, at the water stained ceiling and slow spinning fan. She would always remember it, remember when the well dressed man with a handsome face stood in her line at the grocery store and flattered her as she rang through his groceries. She would always remember the way his hungry eyes tore over her body and the way he smiled and licked his lips before leaving.
She would always remember the day that her life changed forever.