Authors: Danielle Allen
“Sahara, you sure? You sound different. If you need me, say the word and I’m out of here. I want to make sure you sleep.”
“And I love you for that. And because I love you, I want you to go have fun with your friends.
I’m exhausted. I’m going to pass out in a few minutes.”
Reluctantly he said, “Ok baby girl. Call me in the morning. I love you. Goodnight.”
“I will. Goodnight. I love you too.”
I put my phone on the charger and
selected random on my “Goodnight” playlist. My mind was racing, but I truly was exhausted. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since Ty left. And with everything that had happened since I arrived in Thomasville, I felt emotionally drained.
First with Emanuel and then with Emily…and tomorrow, brunch with the entire family…before brunch I need to lay it all out there with both Emily and Emanuel…and Monday, there’s the hearing…and then I’ll be back in Maryland and I’ll come clean and tell Ty everything
.
I’m scared,
I fretted as I drifted to a restless sleep.
Chapter 19
“
Sahara! Sahara! Please wake up! Please! You’re scaring me! Sahara!” Emily’s shrill voice roused me awake.
My face felt damp from a mixture of sweat and tears.
I had another nightmare,
I assumed as I opened my eyes wearily. “I’m sorry,” I rasped, my throat felt raw and my mouth felt disgustingly dry. I tried to sit up but my body felt weak.
“What can I do? What do you need?” Emily cried. I looked at her and even in the
dark, I could see that she was upset. She looked so young. She had her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head…just like she used to. It took me a minute to get myself together, which only seemed to worry Emily more.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry
I woke you up. Go back to bed,” I coerced gently. With shaky fingers, I pulled the covers up to my chin even though I was burning up.
“
Sahara…we have to talk about this.” She turned on the lamp beside the bed.
Too tired to fight, I just looked at her passively.
She’s already seen and probably heard the worst of it. Just being here, around her, felt too familiar. We always shared everything,
I thought with frustratio
n
as the urge to spill my guts to her with little provocation came back. I knew one of the things I needed to do when I got to Thomasville was to confront my fears.
I just hoped it would be on my terms…at the airport…right before takeoff…so I could run as soon as things got hard,
I thought ruefully.
Knowing I couldn’t put it off any longer, I pushed the covers from my body. “Let’s go in the living room and talk.”
Emily wiped her face and said, “I’d like that.”
We stood and walked out of the bedroom. I stopped by
the bathroom to brush my teeth and I heard Emily running water and then the microwave door open and close. By time I entered the living room, Emily had two cups of tea sitting on the table. She had her tablet in her hand.
She looked up
and said, “I thought we could use a soundtrack song. Is it lame that I still do this after all these years?”
I wanted to laugh but m
y throat still felt raw so I just smiled and shook my head. “I still do it too,” I whispered hoarsely as I sat down next to her and sipped the tea she put on the table for me. Once the hot liquid scorched my tongue, I swallowed it down, letting it sooth my raw throat. The warmth felt good.
Emily hit play and
‘Moonlight Sonata’ played through the speakers and a smile played across my lips. “Beethoven, good choice,” I said with a smirk, my voice hoarse.
Smiling back at me,
“Can’t go wrong with Beethoven right?”
The tension in my back lessened as I let the music wash over me, cleaning the nightmare off of me before I began. “I just want
you to let me talk… and then we can have a conversation about it if you want.” My voice shook.
“
But I’ve only been able to say it once before—and it was hard—but with you, it’ll be different. Because you were there. And you know—you know what I did,” I stammered, forcing the preface out of me before I went to the heavier stuff. I knew once I got started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Emily’s
knee started bouncing up and down in a nervous way. I saw her nod in agreement as her knee picked up speed.
Taking a deep breath, I looked in Emily’s eyes and decided it had to be now.
“Okay, well as you know, I have um—nightmares and panic attacks. I don’t know what I said or how much you heard. But it hurts when I think about my dad or my mom or you or Emanuel. I ruined your lives. I ruined your lives because I wanted to go to a stupid party because some guy I’ve never heard of and never met was buying a fleet of alcohol.” My voice broke momentarily so I paused.
Although tears welled up in m
y eyes, I continued with all the strength I could muster. “My birth killed my mother, taking my dad’s soul mate. And if that weren’t enough, the car we were in, was bulldozed into my dad’s squad car, killing him. I convinced you go to the party and you couldn’t walk for a year. I called Emanuel to pick us up and he was in a coma. And the look on your parents faces when you and Emanuel were in the hospital.” I took a sip of tea and closed my eyes tight for a second.
“Sahara…” Emily began.
“No let me finish please.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. “Everyone I ever dared to love had their lives ruined because of me. I got out of that accident with minimal injuries. The doctor told me your legs were shattered Emily. Emanuel’s left leg and arm were broken, but he hit his head and his brain swelled. He was in a coma—a coma! And my dad died instantly. Upon impact is what the paramedic said. His partner died the next day. None of those things would’ve happened if I didn’t want to go to that party. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I allowed myself a second to breathe before I started again, “I prayed for you guys to survive this. I couldn’t save my parents, but
I prayed for you guys. I needed you two to be okay. After I was assured that you two would live, I learned immediately that dance and basketball were out of the question and I had to get away. I know how much it meant to you guys and I didn’t want to be there when you found out you couldn’t do it anymore. I know that makes me a coward but it broke my heart. And I’m sorry. But I couldn’t deal with the truth. It was my fault. I know it was my fault. I was scared you would blame me.”
Sucking in another shaky
breath, I concluded, “It was my fault and I needed to be punished. So since I took your dreams away from you, I took dreams away from myself as penance. I ran away from everything and everyone I considered home. I deprived myself of my dream of becoming a doctor. I isolated myself because I didn’t deserve to be happy. I didn’t deserve to be anything. I ruined everything and everyone so I sabotaged myself.” I cried into my hands for a minute, letting the weight of what I just admitted settle in the room. Beethoven on repeat was the only noise before Emily cleared her throat.
“Is it my turn to speak yet?” Emily’s voice sounded like it was booming in the quiet room.
I didn’t look up when I quietly said, “Okay.”
“That’s a lot to
live with. Especially when it’s not true Sahara,” Emily said gently, rubbing my shoulder. “Let me tell you what really happened that night. I said I didn’t feel like going out because I didn’t feel well from nursing a hangover from the night before. If you’ll recall, my finals were done a lot earlier than yours.”
G
rabbing my wrist, forcing my head out of my hands, she said, “I want you to listen closely to me. I would have gone anyway. I planned on going. We went to every party we could freshman year. I would have gone regardless, do you understand? And Manny would have killed us if we drove drunk…so would your dad, my dad, my mom…driving drunk was never an option and you know it. We both agreed to call Emanuel. We both did! You were just less drunk than me so you made the actual call, but we both planned to call him. And just like he always did since we were little, he bailed us out. He was always there to bail us out. You didn’t force him, Sahara. He did what he always did. The only person to blame for the accident is Chris fucking Cole! He didn’t call someone to come and get him. He had too much to drink and he plowed into us. Cole doing what he did resulted in my broken legs, Manny’s coma, your dad and his partner’s deaths. Cole, not you. Cole!” She concluded her words forcefully as her grip on my wrist tightened.
“But if I didn’t get—” I wept.
“Sahara, are you listening? Chris Cole is to blame. Not you! Why are you punishing yourself for stuff that he did?” Emily removed her grip on my wrist and wiped her eyes.
“He didn’t kill my mother.”
“Are you serious right now? You didn’t kill her either. A combination of natural causes killed her. Your dad told you that all the time.” Emily’s frustration was evident.
“My dad—”
“Your dad was an awesome dad. And yes, your dad loved your mom. But your dad also loved you. Your mom died from complications with childbirth, but that wasn’t your fault and he never blamed you. If anything, he went out of his way to make sure you didn’t blame yourself. Sahara, he would be pissed if he were here and saw you squandering your life, taking the blame for something you didn’t do. Your dad was a brave man who risked his life every day in the field he was in. That’s why he had that money and generous life insurance policy put away for you. He knew the risks Sahara and although this wasn’t a typical situation, he was responding to a call. If God deemed it time for him to go, then regardless of if it was Chris Cole being a drunken idiot or an armed robbery… It’s not up to us when we go Sahara.” Emily wasn’t mincing words and was speaking the way only a best friend could.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have a
comeback. I’ve never attempted to say most of those words to anyone other than Ty and I was sobbing too hard to have a conversation about it.
And then he was gone the next morning,
I remembered painfully. But having the conversation with Emily made me uncomfortable because she was shining light on things I tried to forget. I tried very hard never to remember anything but my own guilt and my deserved misery. It haunted me in my sleep; while awake, I did everything in my power to keep the thoughts at bay. Still holding on to my guilt and shame, I started talking specifically about her.
It was my fault Emily—you know it and I know it.
“You had plans. You had a dream—”
I said emphatically.
“I loved to dance Sahara. I did. It made
me feel sexy and free. But what was I going to do? Move to New York and go to Broadway? Let’s be honest, I was never good enough to do that. I loved to dance, but I wasn’t going to make a living as a dancer. You know what I’m good at…teaching. And you know what I’m passionate about…the art of dance. So you know what I’m doing—opening up a dance studio. So no, I can’t dance like I used to. But you know what? I walked away from that accident with my life!” Emily yelled with tears in her eyes. “The shattered legs didn’t do as much damage as losing my best friend did.” She wiped at her eyes.
Why didn’t it ever occur to me that it could be worse for her if I left?
I wondered as I wiped my own wet eye. “Please understand that I blamed myself and I’ve lived with the fear that you’ll tell me that I ruined your life, that you blamed me for everything. For the last ten years, even though I knew that it was my fault, hearing that you blamed me for ruining your life would kill me. I thought it would be for the best if you didn’t have a constant reminder of the person who took dance away from you.” My breath hitched as I fought an impending sob.
“Sahara, I’m happy. If you didn’t
have so much guilt and self-sabotaging going on, you’d realize that. Over the years, I’ve told you in my emails of all the good things I have going on.”
“I thought you were sparing my feelings. I thought because I made you promise to never bring it up, I thought you were
just saying you were happy.”
“Look at me. I am happy. I can walk. I can run.
I can still dance. I can’t do complicated routines, but I dance my ass off. I am a business owner and I am a teacher and I have my own dance studio. It’s the combination of everything I love. I love my life. I just always felt like I was missing something. And that something wasn’t dance. Sahara, it was you; I’ve missed my sister.”
I wasted all this time scared of her reaction and all she ever wanted was my friendship
, my true friendship,
I thought in disbelief. Clearing my head, I tried to see beyond my own guilt to evoke the memories of that time in my life. And it boiled down to me being scared. When I looked at the facts, I ran away guiltily. I didn’t testify against Cole during the trial. I was without my mom and dad. I knew that I convinced Emily to go to the party. I knew I was the one who called Emanuel. I knew what the doctors told me as I watched them in their hospital beds, weak and unmoving. I knew the sadness I felt as I watched their parents keep vigil by their bedsides. I was scared and I felt guilty. And my support system was either dead or in the hospital as a patient or a parent of a patient.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it like that.” I said quietly.
“I tried not to think of it at all. It hurt too much.” I looked her straight in her eyes and forced myself to speak up, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you. I was wrong for leaving, especially while you were still recovering.”
The therapist I saw in undergrad dealt with the post-traumatic stress disorder from the accident, but
the guilt settled into my soul. The therapist did what she could but there was no way I could move past how guilty I felt. The guilt gutted me and made a home in the pit of me. It made me cold and unresponsive to anything but art. I knew I was guilty. I knew how to deal with that. And talking to the therapist didn’t do anything but reaffirm that guilt. But sitting here now talking it out with Emily was different…it made me feel confused. Did I remember something wrong? Could it not have been entirely my fault,
I thought as my mind became muddled with conflicting viewpoints.
Is it possible that I’m not the cause of what happened on May 2, 2003? Is it possible that I don’t destroy the lives of those I love? I don’t know.