The tears rolled off of my phone screen and landed on my already wet t-shirt. Salt coated my body, dried from the sweat and tears that I had already shed laying in bed. I barely even saw the next message Sarah sent me.
"It hurt, Zach," the message read. "I want it over."
I scrambled to unlock my phone, putting in the password incorrectly twice. I glanced at the scars on my wrist. They reminded me that I needed to hurry, otherwise they would very closely resemble Sarah's.
"Do not make me drive over there."
"1:30. Then it's happening."
"Sarah..." I paused until I thought of the words. "Please don't do this. I don't want you to do this to yourself."
The text bubble appeared, then went away. Then again, and then a third time. She didn't know what to say, that much was obvious. She was conflicted, but I didn't doubt that she would follow through with her word.
"I'll see you soon," came the reply. I glanced at my clock. 12:53. She said I had until 1:30 otherwise she would do the unspeakable. I bolted out of bed and stripped as fast as I could. Jeans, new shirt, jacket, quick note on the kitchen table in case my parents woke up. I had snuck out before, but this was an emergency; I didn't have time to be cautious. Keys, wallet, out the door, and the clock only read 12:55. I peeled out of the driveway and began to make my way to Sarah's house.
The drive was about 13 miles. We used to live next to each other, but then she moved because her house was too small for her family. We still went to the same school and saw each other every day, and she was like a sister that I had never had. As I turned out of Hampford Hills and onto Tucker Road, I checked my speed to make sure I wouldn't arouse any suspicion. That was when I realized I had been going 47 in my neighborhood, which was a 25 zone. I needed to get a grip and focus on Sarah.
The drive normally took about 20 minutes, which is plenty of time to get to Sarah's. I risked a look down at the clock, which now read 1:04. I was losing time, as well as hope and mental stability. This girl meant the world to me, and I wasn't going to let her hurt herself.
1:06. I pick up the pace and take the ramp onto Interstate 55 doing about 70. I accelerate even more, picking it up to 90 once I get on the highway, even though I was just getting off at the next exit. My vision began to blur; I needed to slow down and calm myself down or I would crash and never make it to Sarah. My emotions were pulling my in every direction, and I couldn't decide which would be the best for me to go.
It was 1:09 when I first heard the siren. It wasn't far, but it wasn't close so I kept my speed. Eventually I had to slow down and take the exit ramp onto Hart Road, and that's when the officer caught up to me. I took the left turn and pulled off to the side of the road, obeying the officer even though there were more pressing matters.
I turned off the car and waited for the officer to approach me. I pulled out my phone to read the clock, which was telling me it was 1:13. Sarah's house was less than a mile away, and I had been stopped for going too fast. I began to drum my fingers on the dashboard of my Camaro. It was a fast, old muscle car that I had bought with my summer life guarding and swim team coaching money, and he was named Skip. Skip had been through a lot, but this was his first arrest.
The cop showed up at my window at 1:15. I rolled down my window and looked the cop in the eyes, who took and step back and evaluated the scene. I began to realize my situation; a crying, 17 year old boy white-knuckling the steering wheel on a '98 Camaro at 1:15 AM on a Wednesday night. No wonder this cop was so surprised.
The man, whose badge read Stevens, reapproached the car and asked ," You doing okay there, son?" I gave a quick nod but kept my fingers drumming and eyes looking in a different direction.
"Where are you going on a night like this?" he asked. After a while I managed to say, "Sarah."
"Sarah, huh? Why don't you get in my car and I'll take you to Sarah," Stevens offered. I nodded and opened the door of my car. He grabbed me and pulled me over to his cruiser, parked me in the passenger seat and began to drive.
"Where do I need to be headed to, son?" Stevens asked. I responded with Sarah's address while keeping my eyes fixed on the dashboard clock, which was nearing 1:30 quicker than I wished it would.
Stevens pulled up outside of Sarah's house at 1:26. I was running out of the door of the cruiser and halfway across the Jacobs' yard before the cruiser was even stopped. I ran to the door and hit it with my shoulder. The door barely moved, but a dull, echoing thud could be heard throughout the house. I hoped that someone would have heard, that someone would let me in.
Mr. Jacobs open the door at 1:28 with a surprised look on his face, but I didn't have time to explain. I ducked under his arm and dashed up the stairs, directly into Sarah's room.
I crashed into the door, and this time it swung off of its hinges and landed me directly in front of the most beautiful girl I had ever met.
Sarah stared at me with her huge green eyes, mouth agape and razor blade in hand. I covered the distance between us in two steps, grabbing the blade and throwing it against the wall in one fluid motion. I heard a thwunk sound as it stuck into the plaster wall of her room. I tackled her onto her bed and climbed on top of her, my red crying eyes looking into her green awestruck ones.
"Don't you ever do that to me again," I said. I looked down at her wrists. Aside from 2 wristbands on her right arm, there was nothing. I lifted her shirt to check her thighs, then her stomach. I had done it. She was okay.
Just then, Officer Stevens and Mr. Jacobs appeared in the doorway, both out of breath and at a loss for words. An alarm went off on Sarah's phone; the clock read 1:30 and the notification read 'now'. Sarah looked at me one last time, and then broke down as fast as I had been going on I-55. Tears sprung from her eyes and her body began to convulse as she released heavy sobs and expressed words of gratitude that were incomprehensible between the crying and the deep breaths. At around 1:45, Officer Stevens took Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs downstairs to talk about counseling options while I laid in Sarah's bed with her. She had her head on my chest, tears soaking my shirt once more. By the time 2:00 rolled around, she was more or less okay. She had stopped crying, but was still giving the occasional heaving, wet breath that signified she wasn't done yet. We turned and faced each other, sitting there on her pink and black polka-dotted bedspread.
"I'm sorry," she began. "I wasn't ready to face it anymore. People always make fun of me and bully me and I just couldn't take it anymore."
I didn't know how to reply. Instead, I just said "I forgive you," and put my hand under her chin. I leaned in and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that I wished I could have saved for all of time. I felt perfect inside. I had just saved the life of the girl of my dreams and now there was definitely something between us.
By the time we finally pulled away from each other, it had been almost 10 minutes. I smiled at her and played with her hair until she calmed down, fell asleep and tucked her in. Then, I walked downstairs and asked for a ride back to my car from Officer Stevens. However, Stevens had othr plans; he had already had my car towed back to my house and planned to take me back as well. I apologized to the Jacobs and left with Officer Stevens at around 2:15.
I woke up in his front seat at about 2:40. We were outside my house. I put in my garage door number, leaving my car in the driveway. I collapsed into my bed and fell asleep, the ghost of the night lingering in my presence in the almost empty house.
