I'd known she'd been fighting with her father. I could hear that from her tone but I didn't know how bad it was until I walked out in the morning to go to class. Her car was parked on the street and I could see that the backseat was filled with clothes.

"What happened?" I asked when I got back from class.

"Nothing."

"You've got all your stuff in the backseat of your car."

"We agreed that me living with there wasn't working. So I'm going to try living at the house."

"Are you doing alright?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She said and that was as much as she said about it. We went out to an early dinner and when she handed me the keys, I asked what they were for.

"Let's get out of here." She said.

At first I was happy that Sarah moved back into her mother's house. Her mother was so happy to have Sarah back that they didn't fight. Or at least the screaming matches Sarah had endured with her father ended. Instead she'd resort to a passive aggressive martyrdom whenever Sarah wasn't listening to her.

Her mother was almost sickeningly sweet to her as she tried to piece together the trappings of a happy family life. She'd wake up and make Sarah breakfast before she left in the morning and insisted that Sarah be home for dinner at seven every night. After dinner she'd insist that Sarah pull out her homework and work on it. Sarah actually started going to class again rather than fight with her mom about it.

I was surprised but Sarah did almost everything her mother asked her to. The breakfasts before school, the dinners at night. Having family time after dinner when her mom did the crossword while Sarah worked on homework. She consented to all of this. Their only point that Sarah was intractable on was going to the coast on the weekends. For the first two her mom had offered just a token resistance, trying to bribe her with activities instead.

"We could go to a movie, or a museum. Whatever you like honey. How about a play?" She'd say as Sarah was packing on Thursday afternoons. "You can invite that boyfriend of yours and the three of us will make a day of it." None of it could entice Sarah to stick around. She'd pick me up from school Thursday afternoon and we were off. Eighty hours of freedom.

It was on the third week that things took a turn for the worse. Sarah had wanted to stay over my dorm, which she hadn't done in two weeks now. The only chance we had to spend any real time together was on the weekends. Her mom was dead set against it, saying that it wasn't right, that Sarah should be home. The argument grew worse all week and whether it was really about impropriety or control or whatever it didn't matter. By Wednesday they couldn't be in the same room without screaming at each other and her mom forbid her from leaving for the weekend. Saying that she'd get the privilege of going on road trips back when she learned to listen.

Sarah called me and told me she didn't care what her mom said. She would pick me up in the afternoon and we'd go.

"You think that's a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't care. I can't spend all weekend here with her."

"You gotta do what's best for you."

"I am doing what's best for me."

"Okay, see you tomorrow." I said and I was glad. I wanted to spend the weekend with her.

It didn't turn out that way though. After she hung up with me they fought more, her mom having overheard her, or listened in, on the phone call. When Sarah went to sleep that night, her mom took her car and when Sarah woke up in the morning, it was gone. I don't know if she drove it to her husband's apartment or a friends, but she'd trapped Sarah the last way she knew how.

"We'll take vacations as a family." Her mother said the next morning. "This summer you're not running off to God knows where. As long as you live here we're not going to act like a bunch of strangers. You can take your silly road trips next year. When you're back in school." Sarah locked herself in her room and her mother left, taking the only other car.

When she called me to tell me she wasn't coming, she was inconsolable, barely coherent. All should could say was "we're never going to get to go back there. It's all over. We're never going back." I felt very helpless.

Ryan came in a few hours later. I was lying on my bed watching TV.

"Shouldn't you be gone by now?" He asked.

"Sarah's mom took her car. She's stuck at home and I'm stuck here."

"Shit."

"Yeah. They've been fighting all week. I wish I had a car. I'd go pick her up. Get her out of that house."

"Is that a good idea? I mean, her mom would be pretty pissed."

"It's better than letting them fight all weekend."

"Take my car."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I'm going to be in the library all weekend anyway."

"Thanks."

"Have fun."

I didn't call Sarah. I wanted to surprise her. I wonder about that now. If I did the right thing. If calling ahead would have made any difference or if it was already too late. For years afterwards I'd have nightmares about it. I'd see myself taking the car keys from Ryan and I'd try and tell myself to pick up the phone but, of course since it was a dream, I couldn't hear myself. No matter how loud I'd shout. There would be nights when my dad would come into my room and shake me until I woke up.

"You were having a nightmare. You were screaming so loud you woke me up."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just wanted to shake you out of whatever it was."

I can only imaging what Ryan thought. He never said anything about them though.

I pulled up in front of Sarah's house and hopped out of the car. I rang the bell but no one answered. She'd shown me where they hid a key so I let myself in.

"Hey, you around? It's me." I shouted from the front hallway.

I should have recognized the smell first. That coppery twinge in the air that sticks to the roof of the mouth. I was in a good mood though and wasn't thinking about the smell of blood. It was still sunny out but the day had started to cool. Perfect driving weather and all I could think about was how happy she would be when I told her I'd gotten us a car.

I don't remember much now. She was sitting on the couch but she was slumped at a weird angle. I thought she might be passed out drunk, she looked that unnatural. There were spots and streaks all over the floor to ceiling glass windows behind her making these strange spotted shadows on the floor. I stared at them, wondering why no one bothered to clean the windows. They were on the piano also, like someone had sprayed the whole room. I opened my mouth to wake her up, I was still walking into the room, and that's when I saw that something dark had pooled on the couch next to her thigh and run onto the rug on the floor. Next to her foot lay a silver pistol, her arm draped casually down toward it.

I felt far away, calm and like I wasn't all there. My head felt light and my eyelids heavy. Like that moment just before you fall asleep when all you feel is relaxed. Someone was screaming and I closed my eyes wishing they would stop. They were ruining how peaceful everything felt. The screaming got louder and louder and my head felt started to feel like it was going to split open. I couldn't keep my eyes open and I was suddenly dizzy and I felt the floor sliding out from under me.

I rode in the front seat of a police car to the hospital. There was only one ambulance and they didn't think I should ride in the back. I had a blanket wrapped around me but I didn't feel cold. I pulled my knees up and hugged my legs to my chest.

"You did the right thing, calling 911. Most people freak out, they don't know what to do." The officer driving said.

"Whose blood is this all over me?" I asked.

"You're going to be alright, kid." He said but the way he glanced at me said that I was going to be anything but all right.

"Could you pull over?" I asked.

"Sure." He said pulling on to the shoulder. I opened the door and threw up.

When we got to the hospital I still wasn't cold but I couldn't stop shaking. A doctor gave me a pill and a tiny paper cup of water. They led me to a quiet room where everything was fuzzy around the edges. When I woke up, Ryan was sitting next to the bed. There was a doctor standing next to him. Ryan started to talk but I couldn't hear him and I started shaking again. The doctor gave me another pill.

I didn't know what time it was when I woke up. The curtains in the room were heavy and dark and I couldn't tell if it was day or night. I wondered if it was like this for my mom at the end. Just sleeping and waking up and not knowing what time it was. I wondered if she knew she was dying. She must have known and I wondered if I was dying as well. I couldn't quite remember why I was in the hospital, just that something bad had happened. Suddenly I had to get out of there. I found a payphone in the hallway and called Ryan collect.

"I need to get out of here."

"What about the doctors? Can you just leave?"

"I don't care."

"Don't leave before I get there. I'll figure something out. Ok? You're not going to leave before I get there right?"

"Bring me something to wear." I didn't know what had happened to my clothes. I didn't care enough to go looking for them.

It was the middle of the night when Ryan got there. There wasn't any staff around and once I changed, it was easy to walk right out of the hospital. No one noticed us.

"I really think you need to talk to a doctor before you leave." He kept saying.

"I want to go home." I said.

"Yeah. I'll take you home. Just stop for a second and lets find a doctor."