Page 20 of Chasing Sarah

Because I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

I sit on the shower floor with my knees tucked under my chin. I watch as the water flows down the drain. The pattering of the droplets meeting the acrylic tub fills my ears.

The last few days it’s been hard to find something to keep my mind off the loss of my brothers.

It’s been two years to the day, and I still feel the heat of the flames and the burning in my lungs from the smoke. I still hear the creaking of the floor right before Xander fell through it.

My mind and body have felt restless since the night of the fights. Once I came down from my adrenaline high, I was filled with grief.

Grief that I will never be able to tell my brothers about the intensity of the atmosphere in the warehouse. I won’t be able to cheer them on when we’re up to no good. Grief of never being able to see them again.

I lick my lips and a slight saltiness touches my tongue. I hate crying. Crying means I’m sad.

I can’t let myself be sad because then that’s all I’ll ever be.

The random flashbacks happen almost daily. They chip away at my heart, reminding me of the loss I’ve suffered, and causing the unbearable hurt to take hold. It squeezes until I have no choice but to acknowledge the pain in my chest.

I aggressively swipe at my face until I’m positive the wetness is from the water and not from tears.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I mutter to myself.

Standing, I finish my shower routine before shutting the water off and stepping out. I wrap a towel around my torso then twist my blonde hair into another.

My hand swipes across the condensation that layers the mirror on the wall and stare at my reflection. My skin is flushed and water droplets coast down my body. Purple darkens my eyes, revealing the sleepless nights I’ve had.

A heavy sigh falls from my lips before I turn away from the mirror.

The only time I allow my emotions to fully rise is when I’m alone. It’s the only time I let the sadness show. I hate feeling weak and vulnerable. I hate having to explain that my family died in a house fire, and I was left all alone.

I don’t need, or want, their sympathy.

Outwardly, I’m full of confidence and swagger. Inwardly? I feel like I’m drowning in loneliness and struggle to encompass the persona I’ve created.

Without my brothers I feel lost and off center.

Sure, Paige has really helped me not feel that way as often, but my relationship with her is nothing in comparison to the one I had with them.

They were my entire world.

“See you later, Sarah!” Paige shouts.

I clear my throat. “Bye, babe!” I force my voice to be cheerful and full of life that I’m known for.

My mask drops as soon as I hear the click of the front door. Huffing, I swing the bathroom door open.

After lathering my body with scented lotion, I dress in a pair of black leggings and the shirt Tommy had given me to cover my mouth during the house fire. Despite being 5’10” the fabric engulfs my frame, hitting my legs at mid-thigh.

Bones had known something was off with me the moment I stepped into the bar and sent me home.

Part of me is grateful for the break to just be alone, but another part wishes I had fought to stay so I could keep myself busy with repetitive cleaning.

My mind is a jumbled mess right now and I can’t quite figure out what to do about it. Swiping my phone off the nightstand, I head to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of whiskey.

Yes, whiskey.

It’s 5 o’clock somewhere and I need something strong that will shut everything off for a while.

I toss the amber liquid back and gulp it down in one swoop. I welcome to burn of the alcohol as it travels down my throat.

---