One Summers' Day

Sabra

I walked over to the refrigerator and helped myself to the orange juice. Sarah was in the laundry room adjacent to the kitchen. She was talking to me about something, but I don?t think I was listening. I poured the orange juice and found my usual seat in front of the television. On weekend afternoons, if we were at Sarah?s house, we always watched MTV, no matter what else was actually on. We had just returned from the beach. Sarahrecently bought a new couch and it was so comfortable. It made watching MTV like a glass of ice, cold water on a fiery, hot day.

Sarah had a small, but roomy house and everything that happened in it is heard by everyone else in the house, perfectly. Mostly because she had wood floors, but also because the walls are pretty thin. Her living room, where I was, had a new couch, a new stereo, and a new entertainment system . . . the works. Sarah?s living room is surrounded by windows all around you facing the streets, which really unnerves me. Not only do the walls have windows but the front door is all windows too. When someone comes to the door, not only can you see who it is, they can see you. I was particularly fearful about this that afternoon because we were on our own for the weekend.

Sarah lives with her stepdad, Nolle, and her mom, Deborah (who happened to be out of town this weekend), on the west side of Santa Cruz. She has a stepbrother Willy, who lives on his own but sometimes stays at Sarah?s house. Willy is a skater and graduated from Santa Cruz High about 4 years ago and now goes to Cabrillo. Whenever I see him at Sarah?s, which is about 90% of the time, he?s skating out in front.

Sarah and I met through a volleyball club around 3 years ago. Since then we?ve been best friends. She?s a year younger than me and also goes to a different school, so although we?re almost always together, we do have some time apart. We have many mutual friends that we have introduced to each other over the years. Sarah is a very attractive girl, one would say she has a perfect body. But I don?t see her in that perspective. Once you know someone really well, you can?t say or think about how they look, you just know. Their looks isn?t what attract your attention it?s their personality and that?s why Sarah and I get along so well.

As I was watching the daily episode of TRL, I noticed a van pull into her driveway. I peered out of the living room windows to see if I recognized the man getting out of the driver?s side door and running toward the house. It was the kind of van I imagine a rapist would be driving or, when you watch scary movies, the vans that pick up little kids off the neighborhood streets. He ran up the steps of Sarah?s porch and started to bang on the glass of the front door. As if I couldn?t see him and he couldn?t see me. The second his fist hit the glass was the same second my heart hit my rib cage and my stomach plummeted to the ground. What should I do? I thought for a split second.

I looked into the mans eyes and saw the whiteness around his pupil grow. Cautiously, I walked over to the door and turned the knob slowly. The man had dark hair and dark skin. He started to talk to fast for me too comprehend.

"Sarah! Do you know where Sarah is?" almost yelling.

"Yeah, she?s right-," before I could finish my sentence Sarah walked through the kitchen and into the front room. I worried for a second, had we done something wrong? Are we in trouble? Sarah saw trouble in his eyes

"What happened?" she asked in terror.

He started to answer before she was finished, he knew what was going to be asked.

"He?s on Almar, he had a seizure!" his voice filled with fear and anxiety.

Sarah ran to her room and gathered her phone book and the keys. I felt a little confused about who this guy was, but now was not the time to ask. We got into the car and raced to the scene