Breathe (24 page)

‘
Are you alone?’ Christopher asked through clenched teeth.

‘
Yes,’ I stuttered, surprised to see him.
Why hadn’t he called?

‘
What the hell did you do?’ he continued as he pushed his way in. I backed up, startled.

‘
I don’t understand…’

‘
WHO did you talk to?’ He was almost shouting, and I could hear his anger in every syllable.
Why is he so angry?
I was in the middle of the living room when he stopped two feet from me and threw a piece of paper towards me. I caught it, but couldn’t take my eyes of him. It was hard to recognise the man I made love with. This wasn’t him. This was somebody else. And he reminded me of Erik. I could feel my breath escalating.

‘
I trusted you, Sara. Who did you tell?’ The voice was venomous, it didn’t even sound like him.

‘
I don’t understand,’ I whispered.

‘
Who...did…you…talk…to...about...us? He was in my face no, but there was nothing left of the man I had fallen in love with. This was a copy of a man from my past. My breathing was getting desperate.

‘
Nobody,’ I choked. The pulse was raising, and I felt panic as the body screamed for air. I tried to bend down, and ignore the raging in front of me. I needed to breathe, but the air wasn’t coming. My limbs began prickling.

‘
Bullshit! I can’t fucking believe you did this, Sara! Why?’

‘I didn’t…’ I tried, but the words where lost in my frantic search for air. The floor began to move.

‘What the hell is going on?’ I heard Alice say as she entered the room, but I was too far gone to look at her. My knees were on the floor.

‘
The bag, Sara. Where is it?’ I could hear her words, but they didn’t process.

‘
Where is it, Sara?’ She continued, urgently this time. I should know what she meant. Where is it?
I need air
. All these questions.
I need to breathe
.

‘
Bottom left drawer.’ My words were barely recognisable between the choking noises, but I saw her shadow run for the kitchen. A few seconds later she is on the floor with me, holding a brown paper bag on my mouth. I try focusing on the breaths. In…Out… It’s all in your mind. I could smell the sandwich that was once in the bag.
Think about that. Not him.
Don’t even look at him.
The tirade from Christopher had finally stopped, but I could feel him pace back and forth.
He is so angry
.

‘
You can get the hell out!’ Alice rage, still holding the bag for me.
Alice is angry too. I make people angry. Why can’t I get air in my lungs?
My breathing was still desperate. Fast and panicky. I tried focusing on the bag that shrunk and
expanded as I tried to get air. My heart was beating so fast. I gaged and coughed and felt tears running down my chin.
I can’t breathe
.

‘
What is wrong with her?’ The ringing in my ears muffled his voice.

‘
She is having an anxiety attack, and its probably your fault. Go! Get out.’ I didn’t hear him leave, as I feel the darkness overcome me.

«I know God won't give me anything I can't handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much.»
- Mother Teresa

I was numb. My mind refused to accept what had happened, so instead of convincing it, I avoided thinking. Which as you know, is practically impossible. So I tried filling my mind with mindless games like counting spots in the ceiling or trying to name all the American
states, until the mind succumbed and went to sleep. It didn’t do me any good, cause I kept twisting and turning and wake myself up with a racing heart. It seemed that every time I close my eyes, some blue-eyed huskie chased me down a slope. I felt as tired when I woke as I did before I slept. I rarely got out of bed, which is where Alice left me five days ago. I think it was five days. Time seemed to blur. I went to the bathroom to do the necessities (that didn’t include shower, because who cares how bad I smell), but I had to drink water to refill all the tears I lost the first day. After that I was all cried out. I went into the kitchen once in a while and tried to eat, but everything I tried to swallow felt like it would expand and choke me. I took a bag of nuts to the bedroom, and eat one once in a while. I was so tired. I wished I could close my eyes and never have to open them again.

My phone had stopped ringing sometime yesterday. Either it had run out of battery, or the people trying to reach me had given up. I heard the caller in the living room earlier too, but didn’t bother to open it. I didn’t care. Alice was probably worried. I didn’t care. The look she gave me after reading the paper, I didn’t want to think about that. She had taken the papers out of my hands when I came back to conciseness; I remembered she had to straighten it, because my hand had squeezed it when I gulped for air.

‘
Is this true?’ she had asked me after a while.

‘
I don’t know,’ I had answered truthfully. I still didn’t understand why he had been so angry. Then she read a note that was stapled on the front.

‘
Dear Mr Petrelli. Here is a draft of an article we are going to run in tomorrows issue. We would appreciate any comment you have on this matter. Sincerely Marylin Mandate, ass. Editor. Morning SunStar.’ Alice looked at me, but I was nonplus. But I feared the worst.

She continued:
‘
Super star wife attempts suicide after husband’s affair – read the true story here!
’ read the headline. I almost threw up right in front of her, but made it to the bathroom.

Alice didn’t let me of the hook, she had followed me and continued to read out loud as I rinsed my mouth in the bathroom sink.

‘Liv von Berg was released from Weymouth hospital earlier this week from what their spokesperson claims was a bad case of food poisoning. But our sources tell us that the poisoning was from an overdose of Benzodiazepine mixed with alcohol, and that von Berg suffered from a heavy depression caused by her husband’s affair. We wrote earlier about the recent trip Mr and Mrs Petrelli had in Florence, the city that hosted the couple’s fairy-tale wedding eight years ago. No it seems this fairy-tale won’t get a happy ending. We have reasons to believe this trip was cut short do to a dispute between the alleged happy couple, after which von Berg flew to her mothers’ house in New York. Christopher Petrelli was observed going after her and taking her home, but that didn’t stop him from taking his girlfriend on a love trip the same day as they returned from New York.’

‘
We talked to Sara, who wishes to keep her last name anonymous for now, as she returned to London after five romantic days in a secluded area north of Brampton, together with Christopher Petrelli. Sara had, and we quote; ‘an wonderful time there’, but was sorry that the trip was cut short because of his wife’s illness. We have reasons to believe…’

‘
Stop it!’ I interrupted, and walked passed her to the living room.
This wasn’t happening
. Alice tried to read more, but I held up my hand.

‘
I can’t take it, Alice. Stop it!’

‘
Is it true? Have you been having an affair with fucking married Christopher Petrelli? Seriously?’

I sat down on the couch and put my hand between my knees.
This isn’t happening!
There had to be a way to defuse this. Less then half the story had any truth to it.

‘
God, Sara! They even have a picture of you two together!’

‘
What?’ My head snapped up and saw the page she was holding up to me. There was a picture of two grave people walking down the stairs from the airplane. The angle was from the left, and my face was almost covered by my hair and large sunglasses. Christopher’s face was visible enough though, as he had leaned towards me and asked if I minded going alone in case of photographers. If this were any bit funny, I would have laughed at the irony. Instead I wanted to cry. Or throw up again. Christopher thought this was my fault. I knew it kind of was. I should have realised that the person who approached me in the lounge was a reporter. I should have asked for an ID, not the other way around. Then I realised that if I had shown him my ID, he would have known who I was. The reporters would have swarmed this place. It was a small bright spot in all this, so far they only knew my first name. But how long until they knew that Sara Nord just spent two weeks at the Petrelli’s house doing a painting. My head went between my knees again. I wanted to bury it in the floor.

‘
Did you talk to the reporter?’

I answered with out raising my head.

‘I didn’t know. I didn’t say all that. They made it up.’ Finally I looked up at Alice. ‘How can they make something like that up? Non of it is true.’

‘
So you didn’t go on a love trip?’

‘
No. Maybe I did. But it’s not like that. It’s complicated.’

‘
Of course it is. Did you ever consider his wife?’

‘
She didn’t… It wasn’t like that. We weren’t…’ I gave up, and hid my face again. Then the tears started flowing, and wouldn’t stop.

Alice didn’t ask
me any more questions, or condemn my actions. She took me in my arms and held me and tried to soothe me. Eventually she had to leave, and by then my heavy sobs had quieted and I managed to hold off the tears so I could get Alice home and have some time on my own. I didn’t need her to see me break down. I didn’t need her disapproving attitude either. 

‘
I’ll come by tomorrow, ok?’ she said in a concerned tone. ‘Call me if you need anything. You know, I can stay the night if you want. If not, I will come by as soon as I get off work.’

I got her out the door eventually, and went back to my sobbing.
So stupid!
How could I have been so stupid. It didn’t matter that I talked to some guy at the airport, or that somebody took a picture of us together. I should have expected that. I couldn’t go on the way I did and expect no one to know. Of course someone would find out. They always did. Should I be surprised that the article was made up by lie? No, they pretty much always were. All of it was my own fault. My own stupid doing.

I went to bed, and stayed there. Alice called in the morning. I didn’t pick up. I heard a couple of text messages tick in, but I didn’t bother to check them. In the afternoon there were all kinds of activity, with the phone ringing, messages being received and the caller from downstairs buzzing. I ignored all of it. I needed a time out. I needed to not think about my life and Christopher and all the highs and lows. I tried to survive, but I didn’t know how to pick myself up. My stomach was hurting of the lack of real food, and my head throbbed because of all the crying. But my heart held the biggest pain. I loved him, and the look he gave me when he threw the paper to me, made me wish I hadn’t been born. 

After a while, it all started to fade. No more pain, no more unwanted thoughts and no sound. Just darkness.
I welcomed it. I was done.

My eyes squeezed as the morning light attacked my face. I didn’t understand where it came from. I tried to lift my hand to block the light, but it weight a hundred pounds. There was a movement by the window. Alice. She was speaking, but all I heard was muffled sounds. Then my eyes shut again, and I floated back into darkness.

I woke when a stabbing pain hit my arm. I opened my eyes and saw a needle being forced in. I tried to move, but my muscles didn’t obey. I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry and my lips cracked. I longed for the darkness again. Someone stroke my forehead. Alice. I loved Alice. Her face was turned to someone else, and her mouth was moving again. My eyes follow the needle and the tube, and saw the man responsible for the pain. It was an angel dressed in white. Why would an angel hurt me? My eyes wouldn’t stay open.

The next time I woke, I could see more clearly. I saw that I wasn’t in my apartment anymore. I was in some sort of hospital room. Alice was by my side. I could still feel the needle in my arm, and I had to restrain myself from ripping it out.

‘
Are you awake this time?’

I tried to answer her, but my mouth was still too dry. She probably guessed, because she held up a glass of water and a straw. I drank the whole glass before trying again.

‘Where am I?’ my voice was crackled.

‘
In a hospital.’ She put the glass down and refilled it, but didn’t offer me more.

‘
How did I get here?’

‘
Frank unlocked the door for me. I was so worried about you. And I couldn’t get you to wake, so we called an ambulance. It was a good thing too, you where totally dehydrated. How could you be so stupid Sara?’

Stupid.
I knew I was stupid. I felt a tear drop down to my hairline, and I turned my head away.