Untitled Short story

It was my first day of college. In English class, the girl three desks down had the most beautiful hair I may have ever seen in my life. I looked over to catch her eye, looked away, fought back a smile. When I looked back, she was smiling as well, looking away, the corner of her mouth twitching. Throughout class, we danced the sort of awkward mating dance that is common among introverted kids; looking over, looking away, smiling, useless gesture.

A century later class was over so I approached her as she was putting her things away.

“I’m Art.” I said. Too strong? Too forward?

“I’m Sarah,” she responded. My mind was not that far yet so I left it at that, found an escape and fled.

That was my very first encounter with Sarah Eversmann.

We met at the library later that week. One of those story book meetings where I reached for a book but her hand was already on it by the time I got to it. Our hands met, our eyes did as well, I apologized, she laughed silently to herself, we started talking. That was how it happened. That was the spark that ignited our new-found romance. And neither of us understood the repercussions of our actions.



“Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about, Art!” She somehow always knew how to push all of my hot buttons in rapid succession. What could I say? I always hated arguing but with her it was unavoidable. I clenched my jaw.

My sweetly soothing Sarah had become a bitter bitch.

“That’s right, clam up.” Why did I even say anything? I understood the stress from school and work but I just couldn’t tolerate how condescending she could be.

“I’m not clamming up,” I replied. “Fuck! Do you ever just...quit? You act as if I was made for the sole purpose of agreeing with you!” Her gaze softened somewhat.

“You’re right,” she said after a deliberate pause, “…about that-”

“Whatever!” I yelled and stormed out of the room. I had been at her apartment when we were having that argument. Presently, I was fleeing it.

I stepped into my car and shoved my key into the ignition. She was walking out of the entry, Perhaps to beg me to come back in. I would have none of it so I tore in reverse through the parking lot and proceeded away from the situation. That was our life at that point. I couldn’t seem to move fast enough away from the very person I’d give anything to be with two months and countless arguments before.

What I hated most of all was that I knew, just as I knew the sun would rise, that she’d call me the next day to apologize. I would apologize as well then we’d make up and one of two things would happen; either we’d go out somewhere and end up arguing about whatever we saw there or we’d eliminate the middle man and fight over the phone. Any more, it seemed as though we were only together because we were supposed to be.

I made it home, stalked around my apartment for a good hour and sat down to watch TV, hoping it would clear my mind enough so I could do my homework. I wouldn’t be so lucky. All I could think of was the pressing desire to break it off. I needed to be away from her so I could feel the freedom I so longed for. I made up my mind to breakup with her the next day. I knew exactly how I would do it; I would walk up to her, pull her aside, tell her “It’s been fun but I really need my space. I need to figure out what’s right for me. I can’t have this constant bickering.” And I would leave. It would be easy, wouldn’t it?

Around midnight, I had all the kinks worked out when I heard the faintest scratching at my bedroom window. My roommate was asleep and I had just turned the TV off so there wasn’t a sound that could distract from what I heard. The scratching was getting louder, becoming taps then bangs. Nervously, I walked slowly into my room. I must have forgotten and left my light on because the window was a black mirror, reflecting the light from my ceiling light fixture. With the glare, I couldn’t see anything outside.

The banging stopped as soon as I entered. There was a baseball bat laying across my floor. I slowly reached for it for no particular reason. What was I going to do? If whatever was out there could break through the window, wouldn’t it have done so by now? And, in the event that it did, would a baseball in my hands be of any use whatsoever?

My heart raced as I reached for the light switch. As my sweating hand touched the switch, a thud at the window sent my heart into shock. The palm of a human hand was sliding down the glass. My body moved without the aid of blood and pulled the switch down into the off position. The light fled my room and as I stood there in my doorway, staring out through my bedroom window, what I saw on the other side was the arched back and lanky appendages of a familiar nude body. Her black form cast dramatic contrast with the midnight blue canopy that fell behind her.

As I approached my window to let her in, something stopped me. Was it fear? Intuition? My hand fell against the window but I couldn’t unlatch it. I heard her say something muted on the other side. She sounded urgent, she was panicked. I ignored -- to the best of my ability -- my intuition and unlocked the door for my obligatory lover.

Her naked, pale form fell through my window and curled up on the floor. She was covered in scratches, trembling. Of course it was cold outside but there was something else. She was afraid. She was unsure. For the first time since I‘ve known her, she was at the mercy of someone or something else. The heart that had grown cold to her suddenly melted and I fell to my knees beside her to cradle her in my arms.

Why she came to me, I didn’t know. But she needed me now so I was there, stroking her deep chocolate hair, kissing the top of her head, muttering generic phrases of comfort, wrapping a blanket around her shivering body.

It wasn’t until a half hour had passed that she began to cry. By this time, she was wearing one of my sweaters and a pair of jeans she had left at my place days before. I held her slender form long into the night before I even realized I never asked what happened. By that time, I wasn’t sure that I should or even that I wanted to. She would tell me when she was ready. I would listen. She would need me.


Sarah spent the night at my place. She didn’t want to be left alone. I understood; whatever had happened to her had traumatized her. Try as I might, I couldn’t think of a single event -- that would end in showing up, naked, at your soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend’s house -- that would not be traumatic. The scratches turned out to be mere shallow scrapes. They were almost unnoticeable in the morning light coming through my bedroom window. I had woken long before she did and missed my political science class so I could be there when she woke.

Eventually, she fluttered her eyelids open and looked around, groggily, for a moment. She spotted me and slid back away. The gesture confused me but I allowed her a moment to freak out.

“What am I doing here?” She demanded.

“I don‘t know. You just showed up.” As I said that, I began to notice that she was looking thinner than usual. How long had that been going on that I didn’t notice?

“Why am I here? Don‘t you have any idea?” She shrank away and stood on the other side of my bed. I appreciated that her first thought was that I was behind it all.

“I don’t know why you’re here. You came here. I left your apartment last night, watched Star Trek here, at home, then you showed up in the middle of the night.” She stared at me for a good five minutes, scrutinizing my face, judging my innocence. She gave up eventually and seemed to accept my answer.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down. It was then that she noticed my sweater. “These aren’t my clothes,” she said, squinting again at my face.

“You showed up kind of without any.” My face heated as I said it. Hers seemed to be doing the same. I still wasn’t sure if she believed my explanation but it didn’t matter, there wasn’t a lie I could think of that would explain the situation better. Curiosity got the better of me.

“What is the last thing you do remember?” I asked. She sighed and looked away. I pressed but she turned back, angry.

“I don’t know what I remember!” She yelled. I was taken back by her sudden change in tone. What had I done to deserve that? Her face was pained, confused. Everything I was hearing, she was dealing with inside. I decided to give her some time alone and started to leave the room.

“No. Don’t,” she murmured weakly, behind me. “I’m sorry. I’ll be nice.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, “I just wanted to give you some space.” She strode the distance between us and put her arms around me.

“I know when you’re lying. I believe you,” she said, squeezing my torso. I slid my arms around her waist and stood silently like that for a long while. Eventually she spoke, breaking the silence. “I remember taking a walk around my building after you left to clear my head. Then I was outside your window. Then I woke up. It all seemed as though it were a dream. I can’t help this uneasy feeling I have. My skin is crawling.”

In fact, it was. The warm skin of her cheek felt like it was about to fall off of her face. I slid my hand up to her neck to feel her skin there and brushed against a patch of rough skin much like a scar. It was prominent on either side of her spine. The more I fondled it to understand what it was, the less comfortable she seemed to become.

“I have to go,” she said hurriedly and rushed out of my bedroom. I tried to follow but by the time I was out of my room, I heard the front door close. Her presence left behind her. Without her in my room crying, the events of the previous ten hours began to feel like either a dream or a very bizarre joke.

I walked into the living room, where I last heard her, and saw my roommate sitting on the couch, watching TV.

“What the hell did you do to chase Sarah off? He asked, grinning. His rarely touched messenger bag sat on the couch next to him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” I asked. Perhaps my tone took a much more biting edge than I had intended.

“I don’t have class today,” he responded. I looked over at his messenger bag and he picked up on my confusion. “I was at the library. I’m trying to fuck Liza. You know, the Puerto Rican girl with the long legs? She likes the bookish type. Well, I had heard from a friend of hers; you know Jill? The chick with the highlights that wears the thick rimmed glasses? You know, she gave Tommy dome in the maternity ward at the hospital last summer. Well, she said Liza would be at the library today-”

“This is all very interesting, Jake, but I need to go. I have some studying to do,” I said. Honestly, his stories disgusted me and I really just wanted to get out and think by myself for awhile.

“Oh, yeah. Sure bro. Later.” Jake half turned back to the television but turned back as if in an after thought. “Hey, could you pick up some crackers while you‘re out? Jacob Jr.’s box is almost empty.” With that, Jake turned around and went back to whatever sci-fi series was playing all day.

“I’ll try to remember. You still owe me for his last box. Why do you care so much for that rat?”

“Hey! He‘s a mouse. You wouldn’t know the difference. Maybe when you have kids of your own, you’ll understand.”

I was gone like that. Nowhere, really, to go. I decided to hit one of the local coffee shops and waste some time until work.

I ordered a latte and sat down at a small table near the window. A place like that is always better for watching people. There was already a newspaper left there. The headline caught my attention.

Child’s Death Alarms Community, Authorities.

I read a few snippets. “…child was found by police in an abandoned movie theatre…” “Half eaten.” “…two bicycles and a briefcase full of watches were among the items found at the scene.” “…most, confirmed to have been stolen.” “…[spinal] cord seemed as though it had been cut with trimming shears.”

“Psychopath.” I heard from a man I’d previously not seen, heard or, for that matter, felt standing behind me. His voice was much too excited. “I hope they catch the bastard,” he said, his rancid breath wafting over my shoulder. His face was pale and his eyes were nearly black.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, slightly leaning away from him. Perhaps it was the distance at which he stood or the putrid breath that poured out of his mouth but he made me uncomfortable. Eventually, he walked to the other end of the café and sat at a table directly across from another man whose mannerisms seemed to match. They looked at me a few times, talking quietly the entire time and left soon after. They were both very thin and, to be honest, the first man, at least, had a rather odd smell. It wasn’t necessarily bad but I could see it as off-putting to the right people. Rather, it was sweet, musky. I tried to put my analysis of the stranger’s smell out of my mind for the time being as I concentrated on ignoring the newspaper article. I turned the paper over to see more ink arranging itself in melancholy patterns around the face of a young boy, smiling. The text under him introduced him as Charlie Knox. He died roughly 60 hours before the paper was printed.

I slid the paper onto the floor and hoped no one noticed the gesture. I decided to go to the music store across the street to kill time there.



Work breezed by. Before I knew it, my shift was over and the theater was closing. In my car, I turned the key in the ignition and pulled out my cell phone. It couldn’t hurt to call Sarah at that hour and I was curious as to how she was doing. I backed out of the space and drove away, all the while, waiting for her to answer. The phone rang as I passed a number of houses and restaurants. It continued to ring as I entered a quieter part of town. She wasn’t answering.

As I dropped my phone into the passenger seat, I saw a commotion in the alleyway to my right. I slowed my car only slightly to get a better look. It seemed a man was being mauled by a dog or…no. It couldn’t be a large cat; not in the city. I circled the block again but when I came back to that spot, the struggle was over. The man was just standing there, looking dead at me as far as I could tell. At least, it seemed like him. I wasn’t sure. It was dark. I reached to pick up my phone slowly but when I looked back, he was gone.

I started coasting as I dialed the police. I hadn’t had the opportunity to press send when I saw the man was on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road. He looked at me and stepped off into the road. The street was empty except for the two of us. I took advantage of the free space and floored it. Parked cars and old mansions converted into apartments flew past my windows as I sped through the quiet streets without a real destination. I didn’t want to lead him to my house were he to follow in a car but I had no idea whether he was following or not. After a bit of driving I pulled into a gas station. My paranoia subsided but my nerves were still on edge. I eventually decided it was time to go home but I would be sure to check my windows once I got there.

At home, I would laugh about how ridiculous I was being – I knew that – but somehow the cold glare that man gave me shook me to my core. I shook my head, got control, and drove the rest of the way home.



The rest of the night passed without incident. Besides dealing with Jake’s whining over the lack of crackers for Jacob Jr., the day was looking pretty good as well.

I eventually did get a hold of Sarah around noon. She still had no recollection of the night she stumbled into my room, naked and trembling. I didn’t press it, only suggested she see a doctor. She was insistent that nothing was wrong. There was nothing about the situation that gave me the impression nothing was wrong but pressing would only start another fight. I left it at that and hung up. At least she was feeling and acting human again. Other than that, I had no idea how to react to the situation.



A month went by. Sarah became more and more reclusive, spending less time with me in the evenings. She was getting thinner, her deep chocolate hair lightened a shade, and her eyes darkened as well. Her doctor said she was malnourished because of her vegetarian diet but she and I both knew she wasn’t eating at all. I knew there was something wrong with her and I could help her if only I knew the problem. I thought perhaps she was still suffering the psychological effects of whatever it was that happened that night she was so secretive about.

Then one evening, things took a turn for the weird. I called her to see if she was feeling up for a movie. Expecting the usual, “Hmmm…huh…” I was taken back when she sounded more animated than usual. In fact, I swear she even sounded happy. It was disconcerting to say the least.

“I promise I’ll be over in, like, ten,” she said, unusually chipper.

“Alright. When you come over, tell me what you did with Sarah.” She laughed and hung up. Laughed! If the signs were correct, she was more than likely going to kill herself that night. I’d have to watch her.

When she showed up, I have to say, she looked great despite her recent weight loss and lack of melanin. Her hair was lustrous and the roots seemed to be turning back to its rich chocolate color. The bags under her eyes were gone.

“Looks like someone’s been sleeping,” I said. She smiled. It was a half smile but even that was more than I’d seen for the last month. She almost seemed healthy enough to dump.

When we kissed, a wave of nausea came over me. Her lips tasted of something metallic and salty. I wanted to be polite but frankly, her mouth tasted gross. Like raw blood and sewage. I excused myself to the bathroom, collected myself, tried to discreetly rinse my mouth with mouthwash, and made my way back into the living room, where she was waiting.

After a good 15 minutes of deliberation, we decided to stay at my place and rent a movie. She fit so perfectly in my arms but her fidgety nature made it hard to fall into a natural position. That was new. She used to be so cool and relaxed. I wasn’t sure if it was something worth noticing, but I did, that she made frequent trips to the bathroom during the course of the movie. By the time it was over, she seemed uncomfortable. When I asked her what was wrong, she denied anything was wrong, kissed me on the cheek and left. It was all very bizarre but the least depressing of all of our recent encounters.

Out of curiosity, I called her cell phone a half hour after she left. She didn’t answer. Something was definitely suspicious. As much as I wanted not to care, I found myself obsessing over it. Each time another thought would enter my head, it would quickly lose itself in the stream of consciousness that was my obsession. After about two hours of careful consideration, I smacked Jake’s door to rouse him.

“Yeah?” He called.

“Jake, I need your binoculars,” I called. Without hesitation, he replied,

“I’m coming with you.” Not my favorite idea but I knew Jake had no interest in parting with his binoculars if there was the slightest chance they'd be aimed at an undressing female. Were I to spy on my girlfriend, he wanted to be involved as well.


So there we were; two guys in Jake’s black Mercedes with a pair of binoculars, staring into the open blinds of an attractive girl at one in the morning and he acted confused when we saw the uniform approach from the street.

“Hide the binoculars and follow my lead,” I said as I prepared myself for the cop’s approach. He knocked on my window and I rolled it down about an inch.

“Any particular reason you boys have been sittin’ here for an hour?” God! How did he even notice that?

“Sorry officer. We’ll be on our way.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Now, you boys…ah… waitin’ for someone?” He asked, raising his eyebrows behind his glasses.

“No, sir. Someone just doesn’t know how to relay directions,” I said gesturing towards Jake.

“That’s unfair!” Jake said, raising his voice. “You just don’t listen to the directions I give!”

“Now, calm down, boys. Where do you need to go at one in the morning?” My mind was racing but I had no answer for him. Hospital? No. I’d know where that is. Just got into town? My license plate would debunk that lie. I decided to simply ask if I could go.

“Can I-” Jake beat me to the punch.

“Long story short, our place is being fumigated but we went to this party and one of the guys there said we could crash there for a day or so. He gave me the key and told me the directions since he didn’t want to leave yet. Said the directions were simple but there have been a few miscommunications. We’ll be on our way if you could direct us toward Meredith Street.” The cop looked down the street, held out his hand.

“It’s down that way…you’ll take a left at this corner then a right at…” I didn’t even hear what he was saying anymore, I just nodded, relieved and surprised. Both for one reason; I wasn‘t going to prison. As long as he wasn’t suspicious enough to follow us, we’d be free in a short minute.

The cop started to leave and I started the car. As I rolled toward the center of the street, I looked up and saw that Sarah’s window was dark. I cursed the cop under my breath but couldn’t blame him, really.

On our way home, we passed the alley where I thought I saw someone or something die. I relayed the story to Jake despite the confusion about it myself. I even told him about the man walking toward my car. Of course he didn’t believe me but the fact that he didn’t make fun of me was reassuring.


A few days later, Sarah and I had the same English class but she didn’t show. I called her about ten times during the next couple of days before I finally decided to go to her apartment.

I went to Jake’s room to steal his binoculars while he was out. As soon as the door opened, I was accosted by the overwhelming smell of Axe body spray, sweat and semen that usually announced Jake‘s presence. It reminded me of what I always imagined the set of a porno movie would smell like.

I was hoping I wouldn’t need them but I took them just in case. I would definitely do it differently this time. This time, I would sneak up onto the roof of the restaurant across the street and watch from there, bypassing the car and the cop altogether. Hopefully Jake wouldn’t be home to ask me what I was doing.

“Hey Art,” he said, walking in through the front door.


Two hours later, I got out of the car at Sarah’s building.

“Jake, stay here. I’ll be back,” I insisted as I closed the door. Walking into the building, I was reminded of something. It was a smell. It nagged at the back of my mind, distracting me until I found myself in front of her door.

I knocked but no one answered. A shadow slid across the light under her door for a brief moment proving that someone was definitely inside.

“Sarah?” I called. Again, no one answered. The shadow appeared again and moved from one side to the next. “I know you’re in there.” I waited another minute. What was that smell?

“Sarah!” I shouted. “Just open the door!” The other side was silent. I put my eye to the peep hole to see if there was any way to see inside. The view was distorted but there seemed not to be any sign of Sarah. I knew she was in there though. When I looked down, it was dark under her door. We would go to plan B.

While I was getting back in the car, my cell phone rang. It was Sarah.

“Hey. What’s up? Why are you so hard to contact?” I said, answering. Her response seemed a little too casual.

“My phone has been lost. What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Just hanging out with Jake. You?”

“Just out with Beth.” She said.

“Are you feeling alright? You weren’t in English.”

“It must have been a bug. I’m fine now.”

“Well, that’s good. I have to go now. Bye.”

“Bye.” Something she said didn’t quite fit right. I wasn’t sure what.

“Actually. I have to talk to you. Can I come over?” I asked. But the line was dead. I looked up to her window. The light was off. She was home and it couldn’t be more obvious! But how could I get her to admit it?

“Alright, Jake. On to Plan B,” I said. He nodded and, without further notice, sped across the street.

It was complicated making it to the roof without attracting attention. We climbed the dumpster and from there, we were barely able to reach the ledge. From there, we could climb onto the flat roof. The difficulty was in not making too much noise in the process.

I got up first with Jake’s help then pulled him up after me. We crawled to the center of the roof and laid flat against it. Once settled, I pulled out the binoculars and zeroed in on her window. As I watched intently, Jake spoke quietly about his usual subjects; fucking this, banging that, Jacob Jr.

“I haven’t seen him in a few days and he’s not eating the crackers. That isn’t like him,” he said.

I uttered a half-hearted, “He’ll show up,” and set the binoculars down. I rubbed my eyes -- It felt like I had been looking through those things for hours -- and handed them to Jake.

“If you see anything unusual, tell me,” I said and yawned. I lowered my head between my arms and closed my eyes regardless that I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t even really want to. I just needed to rest my eyes and think.

I wasn’t even really sure why I was on the roof. It just seemed like the right thing to do. Perhaps I was just as absurd as spontaneous Jake laying to my right. Tons of thoughts flashed past the forefront of my mind. Mostly doubt. It was like I had taken a step back from the situation and realized, for the first time, that I was seriously on the roof of a restaurant, spying on my girlfriend through her window. I couldn’t help but laugh a little to myself. Eventually, I lifted my face out of my arms.

“Is this natural, Jake?” I asked. He looked at me like I was crazy, like the thought of this being illegal -- and bizarre at that -- was absurd.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” he said and went back to watching the window. I had lost track of how long we were up there but I knew it was getting too late. I could look at my phone but the idea of reaching into my pocket didn’t interest me.

“Let’s go,” I said finally, feeling dirty and exhausted. It was at that moment Jake perked up.

“The light’s back on,” he whispered, intently.

“Give me the binoculars,” I said, reaching. He smacked my hand away and shushed me.

“She’s at the window.”

“What’s she doing?” His eyes widened and his grin grew.

“She’s taking her shirt off!” His hoarse whisper was a little too excited.

“No she isn’t. Give me the binoculars.” I reached for them again. This time, intent on wrenching them out of his hands. He tried to smack my hand away but I grabbed them with both hands and pulled. We fought over them for awhile until I finally had them firmly in my hands.

I put them to my eyes and found the window. The light was still on and the window was open but she was gone.

“Dammit, Jake! Let’s go.”

I was glad that the cop from the other night hadn’t found us during our trip down from the roof. In fact, he didn’t find us on the way to the car either. Nor did he find us on the way home so it felt like it was due. I still felt guilty.


The next day, I called Sarah as soon as I was out of class. She answered.

“Hey Art,” she said into the phone. Her tone was still pleasant though colored with something else; anxiety? Without any explanation, she had turned into a nicer version of her old self and I still had trouble getting used to it.

“Hey. Are you busy? Wanna do something?” I asked. There was a short silence.

“Actually Art. Do you want to meet for coffee? There‘s something I need to tell you.” My heart skipped and my palms began sweating.

“Um…okay. Sure. Is now good?”

“Yeah. Give me, like, ten minutes.”

“okay.” That was the end of our conversation. I couldn’t believe it but I was actually nervous. I sold a flimsy lie to a cop and climbed a restaurant to spy on my girlfriend and the only thing to get me nervous was a talk?


So we found ourselves sitting across from each other. Her eyes were black and calculating. Her face, now that I noticed, was much thinner than seemed healthy. Her hair was still the beautiful chocolate brown I remembered and it was the only thing that tied this stranger to the Sarah I knew.

“Art. I don’t want to say this wrong,” she said. She was fidgeting, as had become her latest habit. This time, more than usual.

“Out with it, Sarah,” I sighed. I practiced expressions each time she looked away, searching for the most open and sympathetic. I was ready for anything. She could have said she was a vampire or a man at that point and it wouldn‘t have fazed me. I braced myself.

“I’m leaving…you,” she said. The last word fought for an escape from her lungs and only barely survived. I was not ready for that.

“But…”

“No buts, Arthur,” she said, getting out of her chair. “I am dealing with a lot right now. I need to sort through some things. I just feel like I need to do it alone.” Her words cut through me like icicles, chilling the heart they punctured. She knew exactly what to say to hurt. Regardless, I couldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing my pain.

“I understand,” I said, trying my hardest to brighten up. “I understand that you need space. I’m willing to give it to you. I just want you know you don’t need to do this alone.”

“Art…I just-” She broke off as a group of two men and a woman rushed into the room, each one whiter and ganglier than the last. They all eyed me as they briskly walked past. Sarah smiled a confusing smile. What was she thinking?

“This,” I gestured the air between us, “this isn’t over,” I said. Her expression turned nervous. She looked over at three sets of intense black eyes and looked back.

“I don’t want to lead you on. It would be better if there was a clean break,” she said, looking down. Before I could protest, she was gone. The only glimpse of her I was able to catch was that of her beautiful, silken hair trailing behind her pale, thin, fleeing frame.

The group across the room were more like a murder of crows. Their cold eyes, darting here and there as a bird’s would. Up to that point, I had spent more time trying to avoid their faces rather than to look directly at them. When I did, I recognized the two men instantly. One, I had encountered on the street. The other, I remembered running into at another coffee shop in town. Neither incidents were pleasant. The woman reminded me of someone. I wasn’t sure who. But similarities and familiarities aside, the presence of the murder unnerved me.

I left without looking back. I could feel their eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. Rejected and alone, I went to the grocery store to buy some crackers. I remembered how Jacob Jr. was out. Whether Jake had bought some or not didn’t matter. They’d get used eventually.


Weeks passed. The end of the semester was nearing and finals loomed like gray clouds. I still spoke to Sarah occasionally when I’d see her at school and -- It was the strangest thing; after she left me -- I couldn’t think of anything else in the world that I wanted more than her. To make it worse, Jake claimed he saw her with some creepster close to her house. Once I had finally accepted that she was never going to reconsider, it was easier. But that didn’t make it easy.

One day, after a particularly bad day, I came home looking for Jake. I was looking to do some drinking and I didn’t really have any other friends so he was the unlucky guy that got to accompany me. I looked and called but he wasn’t in his room or answering his cell.

“He’s probably at some girl’s house,” I uttered to myself and changed my target to Jacob Jr. I couldn’t find him either. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been active at all lately. It seemed that everyone was leaving. For the first time, I think I understood Jake’s attachment to the rat. He never spoke of Jacob Jr.’s departure but I was pretty sure I understood how he felt.

I don’t know if it was boredom or dejection but for the first time in weeks, spying on Sarah seemed like a great idea. This time, I could do it without Jake’s help. I went to grab his binoculars but they weren’t in their usual place. They weren’t anywhere else I looked either. That was odd.

I began looking under and behind furniture. I would find them. That is, unless he took them.

As I was looking behind the toilet, I was suddenly alerted to a mild stink. It was the stench of decay. I searched and searched but I couldn’t find the source. The first thought in my mind was Jacob Jr. and I wanted to dispose of the body before Jake found it. I searched and searched -- forgetting about the binoculars -- until my cell phone rang. I looked to see who was calling.

It was Sarah.


“I’m so sorry,” she said. Her voice, broken.

“What?” I asked. I hadn’t even said hello.

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” There was a long silence. “Sarah? What? Heard what?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” she said. I was confused and, despite complete incoherency, worried and afraid.

“Say what?”

“Quit making this harder, Art,” she said. There was a pause.

“Out with it!”

“Jake is dead!” She yelled and hung up. I almost dropped the phone but caught myself and closed it before letting it fall. Her words set something off in my mind, draining the blood from my body.

I stood from my crouching position, feeling suddenly older. It was weird but I wasn’t really positive what to feel so I felt nothing. As I began to leave the bathroom, I noticed a small, ragged piece of flesh lodged in a crack between a tile and the wall.

It was a tail.


I reached for the couch to sit down. Since the phone left my ear, the atmosphere seemed to melt away and the apartment fell quiet. The first thought in my mind seemed perfectly rational at the time despite how absurd it would have seemed only five minutes prior. All I could think about were the binoculars. He had had them. What had he been doing with them?

The phone rang again. I didn’t even bother to look at it before I picked it up and answered. Sarah was on the other side crying and apologizing for hanging up. She asked to meet with me. When I declined, she offered to come over. I agreed and she hung up.


As soon as I opened the door, she threw her arms around me. It was hard to know what she was thinking most of the time and this was no exception. I tried my hardest not to cry but it was inevitable.

“How did it happen?” I asked once I felt safe speaking. She moved us to the couch and sat down.

“I don’t know. I only know that it happened at all because it happened in my building about four hours ago. Some guys from school said they snuck down to the sub basement to play a prank on another student. When they got down there, they found his body. Part of his arm was…missing. I thought you knew. I should have let someone else tell you.”

“No. It’s okay. I guess I’d rather hear from you than anyone else,” I replied. Her concerned face searched mine for a moment as I did the same to hers. I put my arms around her increasingly smaller frame. I suddenly felt massive and cold. Her stick of a body was running, what felt like, twice the temperature mine was. After holding her for as long as I could, I pulled away.

“You’re warmer than I remember. Are you feeling well?” I asked. She let out a bitter laugh and uttered something barely audible.

I could swear she said, “I wish.” I wasn’t sure what was right to say anymore. It felt like everything either chased her off or made her sad. Both options, I dreaded. How could I make her stay?

I don’t really know what happened next. One of us reached out for the other’s hand then one of us touched the other’s face. A hand slid here, lips brushed there, legs entangled, and bodies pressed together. Soon my tongue was exploring the inside of her putrid lips but I didn’t care, they were soft and warm. Despite the taste, they were inviting. It was hard to think straight with so many emotions clouding my mind. All I wanted was for something to be right. My best and only friend was dead and I guess I was searching for belonging. Sarah’s body found a place for me. As bad as it sounds, it’s true. When I took my place, it felt like, perhaps, everything was going to be alright.

It’s human nature to grasp for hope.


She lay beside me well into the night. It’s weird; as a couple, we couldn’t have been farther apart. One breakup and endless mood swings later, we were enveloped in the afterglow and we couldn’t be closer.

“Sarah, I-” She put her finger to my lips.

“Shh. You know, as well as I do, that neither of us will say the right thing,” she said. I dropped silent. She was right. Unless one of us was dying, it seemed like all we ever did was fight. “It’s two in the morning. This is the first time in awhile that I’ve felt okay. Let me have this,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss me. I barely even noticed the taste of fresh blood on her lips or the smell of cologne in her hair.


There was a funeral. A ton of people from school were there. There were also several members of the surrounding community. It’s funny how people only like you when you’re dead. His parents never showed.

After the service, one guest in particular caught my eye. I had seen him around a few times but couldn‘t say I knew anything about him. He slinked from one side of the room to the other, staring the entire time. With his intense black eyes and pale, scrawny form, he appeared as though he were built for the sole task of staring. He alternated his gaze from Sarah to me for most of the night. He seemed to know several people there but showed no signs of liking any of them. Once he finally decided to leave, he rushed past us, leaving the nagging scent behind him.


I’m not sure how the pieces started to fall together. I remembered his smell, the smell of his murder, the breath his comrade blew over my shoulder, and as if such a thought were forbidden, I tried not to remember the similarities of his breath and Sarah’s. I tried not to connect his smell and the smell in her hallway.

Perhaps having them in the same room jogged my memory or perhaps something changed in the way I saw the situation unfolding around me but it seemed I could draw only one conclusion; she was cheating. I tried my hardest to hold myself together as I tugged lightly on her sleeve and gestured toward the door. She saw whatever it was she had seen on my face and nodded. Like that, we were gone.

The car ride was silent. She tried to speak to me but I tuned her out. What could she say that I couldn’t just say to myself? Finally she caught my ear.

“…dealing with your friend’s death. I understand. If you need space-”

“This isn’t about him,” I snapped. I could feel her eyes penetrating my brain through my ear. “Look at the road. I don’t want to get in an accident.” There was a long silence.

“You insisted on driving,” I said. “The least you can do is watch the goddamn road.” Luckily, no one was behind us because she slammed on the breaks, smacking my head into the dashboard.

“What the fuck?!” I yelled, rubbing my forehead. She coasted into the emergency lane.

“Don’t get attitude with me, Arthur!”

“Oh! And it’s perfectly acceptable for you to slam my head into the dashboard? That’s horse shit!” Her lips curled into a snarl.

“What’s this about? Tell me!” She screamed. I was taken back by the sudden rage. Yelling is one thing.

“You…” I suddenly couldn’t find my voice.

“Out with it!” She yelled, borrowing my line. The gesture infuriated me.

“I know you are sleeping with that guy.”

“What guy would that be?”

“The one at the funeral. The one at the coffee shop. Hell, probably the one I saw in the alley after that animal attack that I’m starting to doubt even occurred!” Her whole mood shifted instantly.

“What? What animal attack?”

“That is not the subject here, Sarah. I smell him on you.”

“That’s absurd. What animal attack?”

“He breathed on me. I smelled his breath. I smell that same breath on you.”

“Art…do you realize how retarded you sound right now? If you are smelling anyone else on me, it’s in your head,” she said, her voice somewhat mocking. “Now tell me. What animal attack?” I couldn’t tell you if she had convinced me of her innocence. I was never sure if I believed her. I couldn’t tell you what I felt at that exact moment but something compelled me to comply.

“About two months ago, I was on my way home from work. I passed an alley where a man was losing a fight with an animal. I couldn’t tell you what it was. It was big. Seemed like a cat but a big cat in the city seems pretty preposterous. It must have been a dog. I’m not sure. I’m not even sure it happened like that anymore. I went around the block and when I came back, there was a man standing there. I thought it was the same man but now I’m starting to think it was a different man. Of course…you know how memories change.”

“Oh boy,” Sarah sighed. The car started again.

“Wait! We aren’t done yet!” I said, belligerently.

“Done with what?” She asked. The edge in her voice was penetrating. I shut up. I had no answer. There was a moment of silence before she finally spoke again. She formed each word deliberately. “I’m going to leave it at this, Art. I love you. If you love me, you won’t get tangled up in this,” she said. Her voice held such authority on the subject, my mind began to spin.

“I don’t understand,” I said, helplessly.

“It’s better that way.”

“No. We’re in this together.”

“Just five minutes ago, you were accusing me of cheating. Just days before that, we weren't even involved, months before that, we were fighting about the sexual behavior of cockroaches; a fight that would result in you storming out of my apartment, declaring that we were finished. We've never been in anything together.”

“I’m sorry. I should have known better. It’s just…I don’t…you are so…” I was grasping helplessly for words, “…reclusive, Sarah. I just want to be a part of your life. I don‘t want you to feel like you need to keep secrets from me. I never know what you‘re thinking or feeling. You‘ve been so…capricious lately. You‘re deathly thin, your eyes are…unexplainable. You‘re pale. You‘re not okay and I don‘t know how to help you and that kills me.” She was quiet, listening, thinking, debating. It was awhile before she spoke.

“Okay. Think deeply about what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re right. You’re right about everything. I owe you some sort of explanation. I’ve been impossible.” She was tearing up as she spoke.

“Hey. We can talk at home.”

“I’m not done. I’ve been a wreck lately. I’m sorry you’ve been caught in the middle of it. I will answer your questions. Tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Consider what you really need to know. I don’t want to cause you unnecessary pain.” What was she saying? More than she already has? At least tomorrow I’d have an answer.

“I can take it,” I assured her.

“I told myself that very same thing and look at me. I'm huge fucking mess. In other words, don’t make any promises,” she said with a bitter smirk.”


That night was uneventful. I stayed at her place. Without Jake or Jacob Jr. around, it was too quiet and lonely at home. Plus, I guiltily enjoyed the feel of her warm, emaciated body against mine.

Holding her against me, I closed my eyes and attempted sleep but with so many questions and the potential of having them answered looming over my head, sleep wasn’t easy. I could ask why she was reclusive, why she never ate, or why everything about her seemed to be changing. I could ask about her mood swings, if she knew why those people were always staring, or for that matter, what it was that happened in the Alley. I wanted to know everything. Hopefully, she would tell me everything. As I debated what to ask, another question popped into my mind. One that, hopefully, would tie it all together.

What the fuck happened?


The sleepless night passed slowly. Many times during the night, I broke out into a cold sweat. My heart would race, My breath would come in short gasps. Often, I would put my ear to Sarah’s chest to match the rhythm of her sleeping heart but her heart was racing, doing little to calm mine.

The next day, we woke together. She looked nervously into my eyes.

“Today’s the big day,” she whispered, releasing a nervous laugh.

It was Christmas break. Well, not officially but we had missed so much school, it didn’t matter regardless. Finals were down the drain and both of our GPAs had plummeted. Sarah’s bizarre behavior was too much of a distraction and added to the events surrounding Jake’s death, it was a surprise that I remembered to eat. It was a good thing neither of us had anywhere to go over the holidays.

“Okay, Sarah. I have a question and I’ve put a lot of thought into it.” I said after a slightly too long silence.

“Arthur…I know you’re going to hate me but I don’t know if I can do this,” she said. I sighed in frustration but I could see she was as well. “I just…don’t want you…” She sighed, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“What could you possibly say that would scare me off?”

“I’m sleeping with someone else,” she said. Defying logic, I was suddenly infuriated.

“What!?” I nearly yelled.

“I’m not, Arthur. But that would hurt you. I could say a lot of things that could hurt you. It was cruel to say that but the truth could be worse. Frankly, I’m scared.” I pulled her into my arms and held her.

“Don’t be. I’ll be alright as long as you’re mine.”

She muttered something into my chest and I could swear she had said, “You don’t want me.” I didn’t press it.

“Can I still ask you a question?” I asked. She shook her head.

“Just let me show you tonight.” I agreed. I didn’t have a choice. Whether she did or didn’t was pointless; my cock was officially teased and -- I refused to admit it at the time -- I was losing interest.


As the day progressed, She became quieter and quieter. Her eyes would wander as opposed to dart. She was slow, deliberate, distracted.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I assumed she was worried about the approaching night.

“I’m concentrating on not ruining what could be a pivotal moment in our relationship.” I didn’t understand at the time. Now I do. She didn’t want to hurt me.

“You won’t. I trust you. I love you,” I said to lost ears. She was lost in thought, staring at nothing.


A few more hours went by and I suddenly felt like a guest in her home. The television was on but she was, seemingly, asleep. The apartment was quiet except for the sounds of news or whatever it was I was not watching. I would have been bored were it not for anticipation of my impending enlightenment.

As soon as it was dark outside, Sarah came to. She looked around, inhaled sharply and sighed in relief.

“Let’s go.” She said, standing up and heading for the door. I grabbed my coat and followed her out, down the stairs and into the cold darkness of outside.

She drove a bit away from her building, further into the city. The buildings were huddled together for warmth and security. Ironically, these kinds of places are never warm or, for that matter, secure.

“What exactly are you planning to show me?” I asked. She let out a bitter laugh.

“This is the only place where it’s safe for us,” she said. What did she mean by that? Now, I was more confused than ever before. We stopped on the side of the street in nowhere particular. She got out and encouraged me to get out as well. The idea made me uncomfortable but I swallowed it down and left the car, a nagging feeling telling me to run away. But I wasn’t going to run. I wasn’t going to make the mistake my father had.


“We’re here,” she said once we reached one of the somewhat hidden -- but hardly secluded -- wooded areas within the confines of the city. It belonged to someone but, hopefully, they weren’t out in it. Regardless, I felt the eyes of onlookers upon me. She walked over and kissed me long and hard on the lips. It took everything in me not to check the inside of my mouth for cuts. The hands she had placed on my cheeks were shaking violently. Her eyes were pleading with me to call it off but I stood, silently, and waited for this bizarre ritual to be over. She stepped away about ten paces and kicked her shoes off.


“We had just gotten in a fight about, I don‘t know, something,” she said, lifting her shirt. “I was walking around my building to relieve steam like I always do when I’m stressed.” Her jeans dropped. “I don’t remember how it happened. I don’t even remember what happened. I just remember seeing a dark shape when I turned the corner.” She shuttered, her shoulders dropping. “Soon, I was on my face on the concrete. Something was on my back, ripping off my clothes. I tried to fight but there was this searing pain in my neck. I’m not sure what happened next. I was dragged, shaken, tossed, scratched and bitten. When I finally let myself go limp, it became much easier to bear and I went somewhere else in my mind.” Ironically, it was her level tone that I found most disturbing.

“Next thing I know, I’m just running. To where, I have no idea. I’m just…running away. Away from the building, the...rape?…everything.

“Common sense would tell me to run five minutes back to my apartment but I ran in the opposite direction.

“I woke up in your bed, wearing the wrong clothes,” she said, her naked body releasing supple clouds of steam into the cold air.

“I came to understand what had happened fairly quickly afterwards; there are others in town who understood and were able to enlighten me. They helped me through some tough times but I simply couldn't bring myself to give in to their overwhelming influence.

“Art, I love you. I want you to know that. It’s because of that that you need to know, I saw what happened to Jake with my own eyes. I was...there. I wasn’t able to stop it. I even…” Her eyes began to water. She looked suddenly sick. “I even…ate…part of his arm, myself. I’m disgusted with that part of me. I hate it. It made me hate myself but you…” She looked into my eyes -- Really looked into my eyes -- for the first time. “You gave me something to love.” I was speechless. “Art, tell me you love me.” In that instant, I couldn’t form words. “Arthur! Please! Don’t do this to me!” A sigh escaped my lips as the tears streamed down her cheeks, releasing more and more steam into the winter air. Her sobs grew weak. “I love you…” Her voice was nearly gone.

“I…” I tried my hardest. “I…love…you,” I said. With that, I exhaled most of the strength in my legs. How else was I to react to a nude woman pleading for my love after killing my only friend? There isn’t a manual written for anything remotely close.

Relief colored her face. At least, as much as her face could color.

“Now, I will show you what I have been hiding for far too long. Promise, for your own safety, that you won‘t run.” I nodded. She took a few more steps back.

Without warning, a squeal tore from her throat and she fell to the ground, clutching her left arm. I started forward but she caught sight of me and put her hand out. “Don’t,” she forced through clenched teeth. I stepped back and watched the terrifying display unfold before me.

She writhed, now on the ground, her pale body sweating and turning pink where it met the ice and mud. I watched the tangle of her limbs move against each other, snapping and locking in place, one arm backhanding the ground harder and harder as the other helped slam it to the frozen ground. Suddenly I heard a crack and the hand she had been smacking against the ground was hanging unnaturally from the wrist. It took everything within my power not to run to her aid but she said no. I would obey.

Blood was pouring from her nose and eyes and ears but she pushed through it and began slamming the other arm against the ground. I hadn’t noticed the first arm to break until I saw the skin on it stretching and ripping. The muscles were swelling rapidly and, I couldn’t believe my eyes but, black hair, or fur perhaps, sprouted from the broken arm. It was no longer broken, however, and the fingers at the end were elongated.

Her breasts were gone, seemingly redistributed along her torso which was ballooning, the flesh stretching and ripping. I heard the snapping of bones as her body slowly changed. Her new arms, efficiently breaking her old legs. Her spine expanded, driving bone through the base of her back. The tear of flesh was a sick sound, less dramatic than the effect warranted. Soon she was motionless.

Her head was the last thing to change. It sickened me to see her beautiful head -- despite the coat of blood covering it -- mount the body of a rat. Her eyes were wide and her face was twisted in pain. I could still hear the sound of cracking and popping. When she opened her mouth to dislocate her jaw, the sound was amplified. Blood was pouring from her face, mixing with the ample blood pooled under her. She gave me one last look with the eyes I loved and remembered before smashing her perfect face into the frozen ground.

Her nose elongated, teeth grew, eyes protruded beyond the lids. Her ears were the last thing to elongate before fur appeared in waves, engulfing her face. Her chocolate hair was hidden among the new black and gray field of fur atop her head.

The transformation was complete. She was no longer my Sarah. At first, I shielded my eyes to the beast. When provoked by the sound of sniffing, I looked up. It was just in front of me, sniffing at my pants, whiskers wriggling in the air. What had she become? Jake said I wouldn't know the difference but I knew this was no rat.

A sudden wave of nausea moved over me and the smell wasn’t helping. I tried to stand strong against this new creature but I was very unnerved and very sick. It’s funny what happened next: I turned away, leaned slightly forward and began to run.

A betrayed snarl tore from my ex-lover’s lips as I tried to escape. I was in the road before long. My face was against the pavement and she was on top of me. As the pain tore through my neck, the killings started making more sense. I could see eyes in the alley across from me. The others knew somehow. Had I been set up? I guess I’ll never know. I saw figures emerge from the alley and some from the woods behind me in my struggle. They hopped excitedly at the edge of my sight; dark, slinky figures on all four with excitedly wagging tails. They hissed and clicked fervently, cheering Sarah on as she savaged me.

The events of the following second are still a blur to me. There was a loud roar, a scream, and a blinding light seemingly simultaneously. Her weight lifted off of me and I heard her fall to the side. When I looked over, I saw her bleeding buckets from her chest. I got up to my knees and looked toward the light. There was a dark figure obstructing it; human. He said something into a radio and rushed to my side. He helped me the rest of the way to my feet then crouched next to my fallen love. I had no way of knowing whether she was dead or alive. He looked back to me. His face was familiar; a cop.

“What the hell is it?” He asked, confusion was evident in his face. I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t want to answer. A plethora of emotions muddled anything I could say. I just wanted to be alone.

But that was the last thing I wanted.

I started to get up but he stopped me, told me to lay still. When I looked back to Sarah, she was gone. I twisted my head, wildly seeking her out, and saw her slinking off into the woods. The cop shot again, hit her in the throat. She fell to her chest and dragged herself one last time before collapsing.


Loneliness gets easier when it’s forced. It becomes a way of life. When I walk into a pet shop and all I see is Jacob Jr., his little pink nose wriggling as his teeth work furiously on a pizza crust, I turn around. As I’m leaving, if I see a poster for a ferret, cheap to a good home, all I see is Sarah, standing naked in the woods, crying before changing. I see myself running.

I’ve done a lot of reading in my free time over the years. While I can’t explain what happened, I can’t help but wonder if the legends apply.

She never changed back. Does that mean she’s alive? Part of me longs to have her back and feel her warm skin, count her ribs, run my fingers through her silken hair. The other part fears the reunion. I tend to err on the side of caution and refuse to be tricked again; I keep my curtains tight, my doors, reinforced. My lights stay off and I never leave the house at night.

I hope she’s dead.

It’s human nature to grasp for hope.