Sara's Soul by Deanna Kahler Read Free Book Online Page B

windows and sky lights was energizing and inviting.
    “Sara!” a voice called. “Sara! Wait up!”
    She kept walking. There were a lot of Saras on campus. Certainly, no one could be calling her. She quickened her pace.
    “Sara!” she heard the man call again, his voice getting closer.
    Suddenly, a breathless man rushed up beside her. It was Chip. “What’s your hurry?” he asked.
    “Just eager to study,” she replied.
    “I’m so sorry I didn’t call you,” he said.
    “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, you’re busy. You’re working on your thesis. You don’t have much time for dating.”
    “No, that’s not it,” he objected.
    “You don’t have to explain anything, Chip,” she said. “I get it. No hard feelings.”
    “I want to go out with you,” he said.
    “But…” she added.
    “But the last couple of days have been rough.”
    “Oh?” Sara said, putting her hand on her hip.
    “One of my clients from the university clinic was hospitalized.”
    “Is she okay?”
    “For now,” he said, looking grim. “She tried to kill herself.”
    Sara shuddered. Chip had thwarted someone’s suicide attempt. It reminded her of the all too familiar feelings of hopelessness and despair that often plagued her own life. She knew what it was like to want out so badly. She knew what it felt like to want to end the pain, no matter the cost. And she also understood that this girl had no control over her urges. In that moment, Sara felt deep empathy and sadness for her. Chip’s suicidal client was very much like Sara.
    A tear slid down Sara’s face and she grabbed Chip’s hand. “At least you were able to save her,” she offered. “Maybe there’s hope for this woman after all. Maybe you can help her get her life back together.”
    “I sure hope so,” Chip said. “She’s a kind person. She’s just been through a lot in her life. And she’s reached her breaking point. I’m having daily sessions with her at the hospital to help her work through the trauma of her past. She’s got a lot of work ahead of her, but I’m optimistic.”
    As Sara held his hand, images began to form once again in her mind. The girl Chip described was screaming in an empty room, a flood of tears pooling into the curve of her neck. For a moment, Sara became her. She felt like someone had just ripped her soul out of her body. She was wounded. She was afraid. Someone had hurt her badly. And then she realized that the empty, dark room was locked and the fear cut deep into her being. She was imprisoned there. A twisted man had kidnapped her and was holding her captive, beating her daily and raping her whenever the mood struck him. He was cold and heartless, and he left her feeling worthless and damaged. She felt empty, ashamed. If she ever escaped these confines, she never wanted to face another living person again. She just wanted to die.
    A razor sharpness sliced through Sara’s pelvis. Her breasts throbbed, as if they had been beaten. Her tongue was laced with the putrid taste of stale cigarettes and whiskey. She wanted to throw up. Her head spun into a dizzy frenzy.
    Sara collapsed onto the campus walkway, overpowered by the girl’s feelings. “Sara! Sara!” Chip cried, scooping up her limp body. “Someone call 911!”
    His voice was a distant echo and the buzz of students rushing to see what had happened barely seemed recognizable. Sara imagined them as a swarm of bees swooping in to sting her. Instinctively, she reached out her arm to swat them away.
    “She’s moving!” Chip cried. “Give her some space.”
    Sara opened her eyes and struggled to bring everything into focus. Chip was still holding her in his arms, his body pressed tightly against her as if he were shielding her from harm.
    “Thank you,” she croaked. “For saving her… for saving me.”
    “Are you okay? What happened?” Chip asked.
    “I had a vision,” she said quietly, careful not to let the nearby students hear her secret. “That girl you