Introduction: What you want to believe
Sarah sighed, and looked out her dorm room window. It was Friday, 11:20 in the morning. Her roommate had already left for the weekend, going back home to visit her boyfriend. Whatever.
Wow, she thought with a shake of her head, it was only a week into the first semester and her roommate already seemed like a homebody. At least it would give her plenty of time to herself over the weekends.
Sarah was entering her second year of study at NYU in theater, and had opted to stay in the dorms for a second year. Her plans at moving into an apartment with her mother were shattered when she had passed away last year in a plane crash. Just thinking about it now nearly brought tears to her eyes, not of sadness, but of an angry bitter sorrowfulness that ate away at her each day. It wasn't fair. But then she had learned a long time ago, that little was. She learned it somewhere, from someone, but the lesson seemed to blur before her eyes.
Damn it! She thought, why is it every time I almost have my feet on the ground and I think things are going to turn right side up, something happens. Always something. When I got accepted here, Karen made sure that my father would offer very little help, relying on the "Our son's future needs to come first." And he had agreed. My father agreed.
Sarah sighed, it was an argument she relived a thousand times in her mind and each time the end result was the same – Karen won, and she was left behind to suffer the divorce that had ripped apart her childhood all over again. It didn't help that every time they fought, Karen relied on fact that Sarah reminded her father so much of her mother – a dark haired beauty with a fiery temper, where as Karen was just the opposite; a doughty pouty blonde who used guilt to get her way. Whenever they fought, that was Karen's ace of spades. Yet despite all of that, Sarah never held anything against her brother, Toby. She loved him more than anyone else. At first she had resented him – resented the fact that he was the tie that made her family weaker, and made Karen's stronger. Somewhere along the line that changed, though. There was something that had made their relationship stronger, something she knew happened, but could never quite recall, something a long time past....Something that always knitted at the edge of her thoughts, just out of reach...a name, maybe...his name.....a wish....a wish to.....
A knock at her door jarred Sarah from her thoughts.
"You goin' to class or you blowin out with the rest of us?" came the joshing question from Liz, her neighbor of two doors down. Sarah had met Liz last year from the same dorm floor and the two had grown close. At least as close as Sarah would anyone come.
"Huh?" Sarah asked, not really having heard the question. She had been so close to remembering. Of course it didn't matter, it was probably all some silly daydream, a concoction carried with her through her turbulent adolescence, brought on by her "overactive imagination", as Karen would have put it.
"Are you going to make class or not? It starts in ten and is across campus. The rest of us, well, me, Kelly, JT, and Travis, are going to take off for upstate for the weekend. Daddy has a place we can stay at. Travis asked if you wanted come, but I said you may want to catch class and......" Liz rambled on for a while, and Sarah's eyes were drawn back out the window, to the rain which had begun to fall gently. A wish. Stupid. "So?"
"Huh? What? Oh, um no, I really should get to this class, I liked the Wednesday lecture and the prof said something about missing Fridays. Plus, you know me, can't miss class. Besides, it's the first week of classes, and well, it just isn't me." It was the truth plain and simple. The professor didn't like class skippers and took attendance, and it was looking to be her favorite elective course of the semester. Not to mention the fact that Sarah was paying her way though with scholarships and loans and a very part-time job and her GPA couldn't slip or she would lose it all.
"You sure? Trav is gonna be totally disappointed. Just between you and me, I think he likes you." Liz winked and waited for Sarah to reply. When she saw Sarah reach for her backpack she piped up "Okay, your loss, talk to you when we get back. But don't be too mad if Trav and I have a bit of fun!" She smiled a warm smile and walked up to Sarah "Hey, just teasin, let me know if you feel like hangin some time. You seem kinda lost in your own world lately. You, uh, doin alright?"
"Yeah, I just can't seem to shake this old.....You know when you try to remember a dream and....and sometimes its right there and....oh god, nevermind. I am just focused on a lot of stuff lately. It's really nothin'. Let's get together when you get back. Thanks for the invite. I gotta run to class. Have a great weekend." With that, Liz turned and left bouncing down the hall yelling "Let's Go!" all the way. Sarah just smiled sadly. She liked Liz, she really did. But she didn't let anyone in, and it was better that way.
She finished popping her stuff into her bag and got ready to hike across campus. Oh well, she would be late, but at least she would make it. As she closed the door, a familiar scent wafted through the air, it was almost intoxicating, but she couldn't place it. She closed her eyes and the scent seemed to engulf her, warm her. She stood dazed, finally opening her eyes after what surely had to be a full minute, and just stood staring at her door, allowing the soothing and sensual odor to cover her body. It was sensual, but so comforting, like a favorite sweater. Looking down at her watch was the only thing that snapped her out of it. 11:35 – class had started five minutes ago!
"Crap!" she yelled through clenched teeth, and took off running down the hall, her bag left resting by her dorm room door.
By the time Sarah reached the hall, she was soaked from the rain, missing her bag, and extremely out of breath. She walked into the hall, the rubber soles of her boots squeaking on the linoleum. She flinched at the noise and pulled her sopping hair back into a ponytail, grimacing as she pulled a little too hard. She reached the lecture room and slid into the row of seats closest to the door. She was only fifteen minutes late, so she would catch most of the lecture and write down the important highlights from memory when she got back. Already it was going to be a long weekend.
The prof looked right at Sarah as he begun to speak. She felt the size of an acorn. "For those of you just joining us," a couple of students turned back to see the drenched Sarah sitting in the last row. She simply sighed and shook her head, looked back up and offered a sheepish smile. "perhaps you can join the discussion. As per the title of the course, we were beginning to look at the psychology of fantasy. What drives a person to create an alternate reality, one of adventure, or romance, or of mystery? You see, history is full of examples of individuals creating realities in which they are the hero, they are adored, and all of these fantasies serve only one purpose, to delude the mind. For example, was Joan of Arc really a hero, or did she create an alternate reality, one in which an Angel spoke with her......"
The professor continued to talk, on and on, about how fantasies were nothing, were delusions of the mind, historic examples and current ones, how these delusions were complex orchestrations of men and women and held no basis in reality. Something inside of her screamed that this was wrong, how could that be? How could having a fantasy be a sign of some mental illness or how was it possible that there was no such thing as a dream come true?
"In conclusion, I would like you all to read chapters six and eight of the text, outlining Freud and Horning's theories of fantasy development and interpretation in the sexual and mental realms of the female psyche. Yes."
Before she had known it, Sarah's hand had shot up into the air. She had to calm herself knowing that an angry scowl was written across her face. She took a deep calming breath. "Yes, um, why is it that you seem to, um, generalize all fantasies as negative or having no base in reality? Isn't it possible there is something out there besides the tangible of this world? I mean, not the tangible, but outside our senses or outside our belief system? Really?" Her voice never wavered while asking the question – despite what this man had said, Sarah's conviction never faltered.
The professor looked sincerely annoyed and began to walk up the aisle towards her. "Ms.?"
"Williams." Sarah replied looking him directly in the eyes and not backing down.
"Do you believe in fairies, fae, demons, angels, things of that nature?"
"I don't see the relevance of what I belive...."
"Goblins, perhaps?"
At that word, Sarah froze and stared into his eyes. They were cold and devoid of imagination. Everything to this man was stark – black or white. He would never wish upon a star, let alone for... for anything else. "And if I did, would I therefore be considered delusional? In need of psychiatric help?"
"Ms. Williams, I did not say that fantasies were a sign of schizophrenic behavior, only that indulging in them, believing them to be reality, would be cause to consider an individual in need of attention, that one may, how shall I put this delicately, be living in their own little world. It is when one gives into the fantasy that they lose base with reality. Do you know the difference between the two? Reality is tangible, harsh, painful, it tests your emotions and forces you to feel. It is real. Fantasy is easy, everyone wins, everything is fair, there is no challenge that cannot be overcome by a magic word or sheer determination." He paused, still staring at her, then shaking his head he began again in a tone that reminded Sarah of how Karen spoke to Toby when he was three – utterly condescending. "Do you see the difference?" He turned on his heal and began to walk back towards the front of the auditorium. "You would do best to learn to distinguish between what is truth and what you want to believe. Class dismissed."
Sarah was fuming. Had she not heard him right? Was he accusing her of delusional behavior? The nerve. Sarah calmed herself, realizing she was probably just being oversensitive again. Fine, she thought to herself, whatever, I need to get back to the room before boom. Thunder rolled outside, and down came the rain. Great. Fantastic, could the day get any better?
It was 12:55 when Sarah left. It was nearly 1:30 when she made it back to the dorm, drenched. She opened the door and walked, dripping, up to the front desk.
"Mail for room 854?" She asked the girl on duty.
She looked at the sopping Sarah "Geez, ever heard of an umbrella? You are getting water everywhere." With a disgruntled huff, she disappeared into the back room. A moment later she reappeared with a few letters, a small brown package, and a magazine. "Here. Next time try not to make such a mess. You know, I am gonna have to....." She kept talking as Sarah walked down the hall to the elevator, her voice growing in volume so Sarah would hear it... "clean this up and it really is impolite to walk away when someone is talking to you!!!" Sarah just cracked a cynical half-smiled to herself, this was not her day.
Back on her floor, Sarah picked up her bag, which was sitting outside her room, opened the door, and peeled off her drenched clothes. Someone must have been burning incense in the room next door, because everything smelled sweet, almost warm, like a fruit of some kind. It was a pleasant smell and as Sarah crawled into her bathrobe and got ready for a shower, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Again, the memories that hung just outside of reach played at her mind. She saw Toby, felt danger, and there was something else, a longing, a feeling of something more, fear mixed with passion.....She shook her head and cleared her thoughts – this had to stop.
Sarah closed the door behind her and headed down the hall to the shower. The floor was nearly empty, it seemed everyone had left for the weekend. Okay, she thought, a long hot shower, and then a short nap, then off to the Den for a drink and a good book. Not much for a Friday night, but then Sarah hadn't had a date in months, and she had convinced herself that she liked it that way. The men around here just didn't interest her. And when her mother had died, her then boyfriend of six months had bailed, saying he couldn't be in a relationship where the other partner needed so much attention – he just wasn't good at being consoling – it isn't you Sarah, it's me – jerk. Whatever, that was in the past. It seemed every guy she ever had been was only interested in how pretty she was and how quickly they could get it on with her. And none of them, not one of them felt right. She shook her head and tried to clear out the same thoughts again, of the someone that should be out there for her. But instead, she had ended up with a boyfriend who had gotten visibly annoyed when she had cried at her mother's funeral.
Sarah let out a halfhearted laugh. It wasn't even that Jake had been that great of a guy, they had been together for six months, that was true, but she maybe saw him all of two of those months. He was obsessed with his art and there was just no room in his life for her. He made that all too clear. Real life was nothing like a fairy tale or fantasy, maybe her professor was right, that if you start to believe in what can never be, there is something wrong with you. Still, a part of her did believe in fairies. Unconsciously, she looked at her finger, and began sucking on the tip, as if she had just been bitten.
I: Remembering
Groggily, Sarah rolled over and blinked the sleep from her eyes, and focused wearily on the alarm clock. It was six thirteen. She could still taste him on her lips – the man from her dream, always there to hold her, or tease her, or tell her some dark secret. She would only remember him for moments now as she fully woke up – but she always savored those fleeting seconds.
And then it was gone. She moaned an annoyed "crud", and eased herself out of bed. She had only meant to lie down for twenty minutes or forty-five at the most. But she had knocked out for over three hours. Oh well, can't cry over spilled milk, she thought, nothing is really fair anyway. She flipped on a light and headed for the closet. She pulled out a beat up pair of low-rise jeans and tossed them on the bed. She pulled out a tight black tank from the dresser and grabbed a pair of fresh socks. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail as it was still damp, pulled on her jeans and shirt, and managed to find a pair of dry boots. She gave herself a once over in the mirror and picked up her small black wallet. She pocketed it and grabbed an extra band for her hair and wrapped it around her wrist. Jacket in hand she had almost made it out the door when she spied the mail lying on her desk. She rifled through the letters, one from the scholarship department, another for ten free CD's, the newest New York Theater magazine, and a small brown package. She tossed everything else aside and examined the package. It was from Toby. Sarah smiled, that boy always knew how to make her day, what a sweetie, he was growing up so fast. She carefully opened the packaging and pulled out a small note:
To my sis,
I know you are lonely, and I miss you too. I hope you come home soon.
This came for you in the mail today. I think the address said
Illana or something. Mom opened it. I know you don't like it
when mom goes through your stuff, but she was planning on
putting all your aminals and bookz away and just tossing this
out, so I wanted to send you something. Dad helped me pack it
up, but I writed the letter with his helps. Please come home
sooon, I miss you.
Luv u,
Toby
Sarah smiled quietly down at the scrawled letter. Pretty good for a little guy. She was sure her Dad had helped out, had actually written most, if not all of it, for him – he was a soft touch that way. She wasn't upset by the contents of the letter. Her father had told her that they were planning on turning her old room into a guest suite and that her stuff would go into storage. Karen again. Always was that woman trying to twist things to her liking. She made it seem as though anything that ever went wrong was her fault. Even when her mother had died, Karen refused to offer any condolences, save a cheesey card and a strained hug.
Throwing those thoughts aside, Sarah finished opening the package. It was a small, well used, red leather-bound book. She turned it over in her hands feeling the worn, soft, leather. The gold leaf where the title had been had been rubbed off and the first few pages were tattered and some were missing. She vaguely recalled reading a similar book at one time, its warm binding felt familiar in her hands. She thumbed through the pages, not reading anything, and decided it was the perfect length for an evening of reading. As she closed the book, a tingling sensation surged through her hands. It was the feeling one has when your hands have fallen asleep and need to be woken up. The feeling surged up her arms and encompassed her whole body – and then was gone. "Woah, must not have eaten enough today." Sarah shook her head and focused her eyes "dizzy spell..." Clearing her thoughts, she popped the small book in her back pocket, grabbed her keys, and closed the door. Alright, she thought, only half past seven. She stopped as she walked down the hall. The air no longer smelled sweet. She half frowned, she had really enjoyed the smell and reminded herself to ask around and see who had been burning the incense.
The air was thick, but the rain had stopped, as Sarah walked down the street. The DEN was one of her favorite haunts. Not too many students went there. It was an old theater that had been renovated and turned into a bar/study hang out, but on a Friday night, there would be very few people studying. It had velvet couches, and candles, and there was always soft jazz playing in the background. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Sarah cursed herself for forgetting her umbrella, again. Oh well, she smiled, the desk girl with just have another mess to clean up! Hopefully the rain had tired itself out.
After about ten minutes of walking, Sarah rounded the corner. A small sign hung over the entrance, simply reading "DEN". She stopped short. There sitting above the sign was a pure white owl. It was magnificent. Sarah found herself entranced by its stare – it's piercing stare. She felt, somehow, that she had seen him, she knew it was a him somehow, before. She shook the feeling and started for the door, stopping again to look at the owl perched like a statue above the sign, again it stared at her. Closing her eyes to shut out the strange feelings, she opened the door, flashed her ID, and grabbed a couch in the far corner.
Kicking off her boots, Sarah sprawled out on the sofa. A waitress came over and Sarah quickly ordered a glass of Merlot.
Just one, she thought, that is all I really need. Just one to relax and shake off the day.
The waitress brought the wine, Sarah opened her book, and Sarah remembered.
A few glasses of wine later, Sarah sat bewildered. The words she had spoken herself, mixed with the ones from the small book, flooded her mind. "But the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with her.....I wish the Goblins would come and take you away, right now. The images of goblins, fairies, dwarves and other creatures swirled in her thoughts. She kept reading the passages, unable to stop, searching for him, the one who haunted her dreams, the one who always stayed just inches away from her recollection. Page after page, glass after glass, hour after hour, she read on. He was only referred to as the Goblin King, but she knew there was more, there had to be more, there had to be a name, she had to know his name. What had happened? Had she known him? She had, but how? Toby? I have to rescue Toby! No. Don't be ridiculous – it is just a story. It was just a dream – an Escher-esk dream....just a dream...
Sarah took a deep breath. It was well after one in the morning, the bars would chime up last call in an hour or so, maybe less, time didn't seem to make sense. Her head was spinning. All of those memories she had fought to find opened like the sky and fell upon her like stinging raindrops. Why, why had the Goblin King taken these thoughts from her? She knew in her heart that it wasn't a dream – he was real, the Goblin King was real – he was no delusional fantasy. She had to finish reading. She turned the page and stopped. Everything became clear. All of the walls crumbled and she knew.
"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my here to castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen. Though my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great..........."
Sarah looked up, her eyes welling with tears, her voice small, almost a whisper, "You have no power over me."
"What?" Came the question from the waitress.
Shocked, Sarah jumped and turned and faced the young woman. "Oh, sorry, I uh, was, God, oh man, just um, rehearsing a play. That's all."
"Yeah, sure. You want another drink, or is that it. Last call."
"Last call? It's only...." Sarah looked at her watch, 2:30. "Oh, uh, no, I guess not."
"Okay, that will be $57.50 then."
"What? You're kidding, I only had two..." Sarah looked again, there were four empty glasses of wine on the table. And one still three quarters full that she felt green just looking at. She had been there for hours, but it was still a lot of wine for Sarah. "Right. You take Visa?"
The waitress took the card and left. Well, Sarah thought that would explain the dizziness. She signed the slip of paper the waitress brought back and made sure she left a decent tip. She shook off the tears that had found their way down her cheek, signed the slip, clutched her book and exited the DEN under the watchful eye of a white owl who had not moved.
It was pouring. The rain was warm against Sarah's body, but she was still drenched and shaking. The dizziness was getting worse and the only way to steady herself was to stare at the ground and keep walking. She held the book under her jacket, close to her heart, away from the rain. Her head was spinning. Why now? Why remember now? Everything flooded back to her in wave after wave, image followed jumbled image, and always a voice in the background edging her on....What's said is said......I have turned the world upside down......Look what I am offering you.....
Sarah looked up from her walking, she should have been back at the dorms by now, but she wasn't. She was far past where the dorms were and into some area of campus devoted to sports. "Shit!" she mumbled, it was too dark to really get her bearings and she didn't often visit this part of campus – preferring the theaters and museums to garish intensity of college games. She looked around. Nothing seemed familiar, even though she knew she had seen it before on the campus tour.
Lost, wet, head spinning from wine and emotions building that she couldn't place, she stood in the middle of a small field until her knees gave and she fell to them, splashing mud onto her pale face. She angrily wiped it off and let out a guttural growl, frustrated at her own stupidity for getting lost.
"What is it you want from me? Where are you?"
As if in reply, lightning flashed and thunder pounded against the night sky so hard, Sarah thought the sky itself would fall. Lightning flashed again, and then she saw it. Sitting on a post, was the owl – the same white owl from the DEN – just staring at her.
Shakily she rose to her feet and walked toward the pole – the owl stared barely five feet from her. Warily she approached. "God Sarah," she mumbled, "If anyone saw you right now they would swear you were insane, afraid of an owl," She steeled herself and renewed her step until she was only a few feet away. She stared at it hard – stared into its, his, eyes – they were not the eyes of bird, but of man, or something more than a man, mismatched, sensual eyes stared into her own. A name pierced her thoughts – Jareth – and she whispered it, knowing now, it was him.
They stared at one another, so many emotions passing between the owl and the woman – so many questions, so many feelings, so many things that needed to be said, so much hurt, so much deep hurt. She stepped closer – anger, sadness, desire, passion, all swirling in her thoughts. She began to ask a thousand questions, but always stopped short, stopped by the thought that maybe this was just an owl, but the wine and her memories told her the bird was so much more. Rain continued to pelt her hair, but she didn't care – "Why have you, why did you...."
Without warning, the owl took flight and was gone.
Gone.
Sarah stood there alone, in the dark and in the rain, mouth slightly opened to ask questions that would never fall, questions left unanswered. Tears welled at the edges of her eyes and mixed with the falling rain. A dense and deep anger swelled inside of her, surging to the surface. Why, why bring me so close only to toy with me, you bastard! Why, why would you do this again? Are you even real? Yes, you have to be. Why would you do it again? No, not this time – NOT THIS TIME!! She backed away from the post, turned and ran to the center of the field. Her head spun from the wine and confusion, but she didn't care. She fumbled with the zipper on her jacket and pulled out the tattered book. She opened the Labyrinth, but already knew what she was looking for – she didn't need it, but somehow, it justified her actions, made them real and not fantasy – she stared strait into the night sky, lightning nearly blinding her and thunder crashing all around her. The pages were drenching even as she spoke.
"Jareth, why? Why?" She stopped, fully taking in the words she was about to say – if she said them and they didn't work, was she a lunatic? Did it mean all of this was imagined? No, it meant he would he just reject her, push her out of all thought again. Make her forget and forget her. That was her punishment for winning. They would work though, the words had worked before and would work again.....Staring into the rain once more she screamed the words, ensuring that the Goblin King and his minions would hear her "I wish the Goblins would come and take me away – Right NOW!"
Nothing. Lightning flashed and the only sound that tortured her ears was her own breathing and patronizing patter of the rain about her.
Only the thunder accompanied her into her sorrow as the dizziness overtook her. "Damn you, Jareth. Damn you." Sarah fell to the ground and wept quietly as the rain fell upon her back, soaking her though, and mixing with her tears as they fell from bloodshot eyes. "Damn you." All of it poured out of her, her fear, anger, confusion, it all fell to the ground to mix with the rain. Sarah closed her eyes and wept and everything went dark. Only the thunder accompanied her into sleep. Thunder, and the eyes of an Owl.
Sarah sighed, and looked out her dorm room window. It was Friday, 11:20 in the morning. Her roommate had already left for the weekend, going back home to visit her boyfriend. Whatever.
Wow, she thought with a shake of her head, it was only a week into the first semester and her roommate already seemed like a homebody. At least it would give her plenty of time to herself over the weekends.
Sarah was entering her second year of study at NYU in theater, and had opted to stay in the dorms for a second year. Her plans at moving into an apartment with her mother were shattered when she had passed away last year in a plane crash. Just thinking about it now nearly brought tears to her eyes, not of sadness, but of an angry bitter sorrowfulness that ate away at her each day. It wasn't fair. But then she had learned a long time ago, that little was. She learned it somewhere, from someone, but the lesson seemed to blur before her eyes.
Damn it! She thought, why is it every time I almost have my feet on the ground and I think things are going to turn right side up, something happens. Always something. When I got accepted here, Karen made sure that my father would offer very little help, relying on the "Our son's future needs to come first." And he had agreed. My father agreed.
Sarah sighed, it was an argument she relived a thousand times in her mind and each time the end result was the same – Karen won, and she was left behind to suffer the divorce that had ripped apart her childhood all over again. It didn't help that every time they fought, Karen relied on fact that Sarah reminded her father so much of her mother – a dark haired beauty with a fiery temper, where as Karen was just the opposite; a doughty pouty blonde who used guilt to get her way. Whenever they fought, that was Karen's ace of spades. Yet despite all of that, Sarah never held anything against her brother, Toby. She loved him more than anyone else. At first she had resented him – resented the fact that he was the tie that made her family weaker, and made Karen's stronger. Somewhere along the line that changed, though. There was something that had made their relationship stronger, something she knew happened, but could never quite recall, something a long time past....Something that always knitted at the edge of her thoughts, just out of reach...a name, maybe...his name.....a wish....a wish to.....
A knock at her door jarred Sarah from her thoughts.
"You goin' to class or you blowin out with the rest of us?" came the joshing question from Liz, her neighbor of two doors down. Sarah had met Liz last year from the same dorm floor and the two had grown close. At least as close as Sarah would anyone come.
"Huh?" Sarah asked, not really having heard the question. She had been so close to remembering. Of course it didn't matter, it was probably all some silly daydream, a concoction carried with her through her turbulent adolescence, brought on by her "overactive imagination", as Karen would have put it.
"Are you going to make class or not? It starts in ten and is across campus. The rest of us, well, me, Kelly, JT, and Travis, are going to take off for upstate for the weekend. Daddy has a place we can stay at. Travis asked if you wanted come, but I said you may want to catch class and......" Liz rambled on for a while, and Sarah's eyes were drawn back out the window, to the rain which had begun to fall gently. A wish. Stupid. "So?"
"Huh? What? Oh, um no, I really should get to this class, I liked the Wednesday lecture and the prof said something about missing Fridays. Plus, you know me, can't miss class. Besides, it's the first week of classes, and well, it just isn't me." It was the truth plain and simple. The professor didn't like class skippers and took attendance, and it was looking to be her favorite elective course of the semester. Not to mention the fact that Sarah was paying her way though with scholarships and loans and a very part-time job and her GPA couldn't slip or she would lose it all.
"You sure? Trav is gonna be totally disappointed. Just between you and me, I think he likes you." Liz winked and waited for Sarah to reply. When she saw Sarah reach for her backpack she piped up "Okay, your loss, talk to you when we get back. But don't be too mad if Trav and I have a bit of fun!" She smiled a warm smile and walked up to Sarah "Hey, just teasin, let me know if you feel like hangin some time. You seem kinda lost in your own world lately. You, uh, doin alright?"
"Yeah, I just can't seem to shake this old.....You know when you try to remember a dream and....and sometimes its right there and....oh god, nevermind. I am just focused on a lot of stuff lately. It's really nothin'. Let's get together when you get back. Thanks for the invite. I gotta run to class. Have a great weekend." With that, Liz turned and left bouncing down the hall yelling "Let's Go!" all the way. Sarah just smiled sadly. She liked Liz, she really did. But she didn't let anyone in, and it was better that way.
She finished popping her stuff into her bag and got ready to hike across campus. Oh well, she would be late, but at least she would make it. As she closed the door, a familiar scent wafted through the air, it was almost intoxicating, but she couldn't place it. She closed her eyes and the scent seemed to engulf her, warm her. She stood dazed, finally opening her eyes after what surely had to be a full minute, and just stood staring at her door, allowing the soothing and sensual odor to cover her body. It was sensual, but so comforting, like a favorite sweater. Looking down at her watch was the only thing that snapped her out of it. 11:35 – class had started five minutes ago!
"Crap!" she yelled through clenched teeth, and took off running down the hall, her bag left resting by her dorm room door.
By the time Sarah reached the hall, she was soaked from the rain, missing her bag, and extremely out of breath. She walked into the hall, the rubber soles of her boots squeaking on the linoleum. She flinched at the noise and pulled her sopping hair back into a ponytail, grimacing as she pulled a little too hard. She reached the lecture room and slid into the row of seats closest to the door. She was only fifteen minutes late, so she would catch most of the lecture and write down the important highlights from memory when she got back. Already it was going to be a long weekend.
The prof looked right at Sarah as he begun to speak. She felt the size of an acorn. "For those of you just joining us," a couple of students turned back to see the drenched Sarah sitting in the last row. She simply sighed and shook her head, looked back up and offered a sheepish smile. "perhaps you can join the discussion. As per the title of the course, we were beginning to look at the psychology of fantasy. What drives a person to create an alternate reality, one of adventure, or romance, or of mystery? You see, history is full of examples of individuals creating realities in which they are the hero, they are adored, and all of these fantasies serve only one purpose, to delude the mind. For example, was Joan of Arc really a hero, or did she create an alternate reality, one in which an Angel spoke with her......"
The professor continued to talk, on and on, about how fantasies were nothing, were delusions of the mind, historic examples and current ones, how these delusions were complex orchestrations of men and women and held no basis in reality. Something inside of her screamed that this was wrong, how could that be? How could having a fantasy be a sign of some mental illness or how was it possible that there was no such thing as a dream come true?
"In conclusion, I would like you all to read chapters six and eight of the text, outlining Freud and Horning's theories of fantasy development and interpretation in the sexual and mental realms of the female psyche. Yes."
Before she had known it, Sarah's hand had shot up into the air. She had to calm herself knowing that an angry scowl was written across her face. She took a deep calming breath. "Yes, um, why is it that you seem to, um, generalize all fantasies as negative or having no base in reality? Isn't it possible there is something out there besides the tangible of this world? I mean, not the tangible, but outside our senses or outside our belief system? Really?" Her voice never wavered while asking the question – despite what this man had said, Sarah's conviction never faltered.
The professor looked sincerely annoyed and began to walk up the aisle towards her. "Ms.?"
"Williams." Sarah replied looking him directly in the eyes and not backing down.
"Do you believe in fairies, fae, demons, angels, things of that nature?"
"I don't see the relevance of what I belive...."
"Goblins, perhaps?"
At that word, Sarah froze and stared into his eyes. They were cold and devoid of imagination. Everything to this man was stark – black or white. He would never wish upon a star, let alone for... for anything else. "And if I did, would I therefore be considered delusional? In need of psychiatric help?"
"Ms. Williams, I did not say that fantasies were a sign of schizophrenic behavior, only that indulging in them, believing them to be reality, would be cause to consider an individual in need of attention, that one may, how shall I put this delicately, be living in their own little world. It is when one gives into the fantasy that they lose base with reality. Do you know the difference between the two? Reality is tangible, harsh, painful, it tests your emotions and forces you to feel. It is real. Fantasy is easy, everyone wins, everything is fair, there is no challenge that cannot be overcome by a magic word or sheer determination." He paused, still staring at her, then shaking his head he began again in a tone that reminded Sarah of how Karen spoke to Toby when he was three – utterly condescending. "Do you see the difference?" He turned on his heal and began to walk back towards the front of the auditorium. "You would do best to learn to distinguish between what is truth and what you want to believe. Class dismissed."
Sarah was fuming. Had she not heard him right? Was he accusing her of delusional behavior? The nerve. Sarah calmed herself, realizing she was probably just being oversensitive again. Fine, she thought to herself, whatever, I need to get back to the room before boom. Thunder rolled outside, and down came the rain. Great. Fantastic, could the day get any better?
It was 12:55 when Sarah left. It was nearly 1:30 when she made it back to the dorm, drenched. She opened the door and walked, dripping, up to the front desk.
"Mail for room 854?" She asked the girl on duty.
She looked at the sopping Sarah "Geez, ever heard of an umbrella? You are getting water everywhere." With a disgruntled huff, she disappeared into the back room. A moment later she reappeared with a few letters, a small brown package, and a magazine. "Here. Next time try not to make such a mess. You know, I am gonna have to....." She kept talking as Sarah walked down the hall to the elevator, her voice growing in volume so Sarah would hear it... "clean this up and it really is impolite to walk away when someone is talking to you!!!" Sarah just cracked a cynical half-smiled to herself, this was not her day.
Back on her floor, Sarah picked up her bag, which was sitting outside her room, opened the door, and peeled off her drenched clothes. Someone must have been burning incense in the room next door, because everything smelled sweet, almost warm, like a fruit of some kind. It was a pleasant smell and as Sarah crawled into her bathrobe and got ready for a shower, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Again, the memories that hung just outside of reach played at her mind. She saw Toby, felt danger, and there was something else, a longing, a feeling of something more, fear mixed with passion.....She shook her head and cleared her thoughts – this had to stop.
Sarah closed the door behind her and headed down the hall to the shower. The floor was nearly empty, it seemed everyone had left for the weekend. Okay, she thought, a long hot shower, and then a short nap, then off to the Den for a drink and a good book. Not much for a Friday night, but then Sarah hadn't had a date in months, and she had convinced herself that she liked it that way. The men around here just didn't interest her. And when her mother had died, her then boyfriend of six months had bailed, saying he couldn't be in a relationship where the other partner needed so much attention – he just wasn't good at being consoling – it isn't you Sarah, it's me – jerk. Whatever, that was in the past. It seemed every guy she ever had been was only interested in how pretty she was and how quickly they could get it on with her. And none of them, not one of them felt right. She shook her head and tried to clear out the same thoughts again, of the someone that should be out there for her. But instead, she had ended up with a boyfriend who had gotten visibly annoyed when she had cried at her mother's funeral.
Sarah let out a halfhearted laugh. It wasn't even that Jake had been that great of a guy, they had been together for six months, that was true, but she maybe saw him all of two of those months. He was obsessed with his art and there was just no room in his life for her. He made that all too clear. Real life was nothing like a fairy tale or fantasy, maybe her professor was right, that if you start to believe in what can never be, there is something wrong with you. Still, a part of her did believe in fairies. Unconsciously, she looked at her finger, and began sucking on the tip, as if she had just been bitten.
I: Remembering
Groggily, Sarah rolled over and blinked the sleep from her eyes, and focused wearily on the alarm clock. It was six thirteen. She could still taste him on her lips – the man from her dream, always there to hold her, or tease her, or tell her some dark secret. She would only remember him for moments now as she fully woke up – but she always savored those fleeting seconds.
And then it was gone. She moaned an annoyed "crud", and eased herself out of bed. She had only meant to lie down for twenty minutes or forty-five at the most. But she had knocked out for over three hours. Oh well, can't cry over spilled milk, she thought, nothing is really fair anyway. She flipped on a light and headed for the closet. She pulled out a beat up pair of low-rise jeans and tossed them on the bed. She pulled out a tight black tank from the dresser and grabbed a pair of fresh socks. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail as it was still damp, pulled on her jeans and shirt, and managed to find a pair of dry boots. She gave herself a once over in the mirror and picked up her small black wallet. She pocketed it and grabbed an extra band for her hair and wrapped it around her wrist. Jacket in hand she had almost made it out the door when she spied the mail lying on her desk. She rifled through the letters, one from the scholarship department, another for ten free CD's, the newest New York Theater magazine, and a small brown package. She tossed everything else aside and examined the package. It was from Toby. Sarah smiled, that boy always knew how to make her day, what a sweetie, he was growing up so fast. She carefully opened the packaging and pulled out a small note:
To my sis,
I know you are lonely, and I miss you too. I hope you come home soon.
This came for you in the mail today. I think the address said
Illana or something. Mom opened it. I know you don't like it
when mom goes through your stuff, but she was planning on
putting all your aminals and bookz away and just tossing this
out, so I wanted to send you something. Dad helped me pack it
up, but I writed the letter with his helps. Please come home
sooon, I miss you.
Luv u,
Toby
Sarah smiled quietly down at the scrawled letter. Pretty good for a little guy. She was sure her Dad had helped out, had actually written most, if not all of it, for him – he was a soft touch that way. She wasn't upset by the contents of the letter. Her father had told her that they were planning on turning her old room into a guest suite and that her stuff would go into storage. Karen again. Always was that woman trying to twist things to her liking. She made it seem as though anything that ever went wrong was her fault. Even when her mother had died, Karen refused to offer any condolences, save a cheesey card and a strained hug.
Throwing those thoughts aside, Sarah finished opening the package. It was a small, well used, red leather-bound book. She turned it over in her hands feeling the worn, soft, leather. The gold leaf where the title had been had been rubbed off and the first few pages were tattered and some were missing. She vaguely recalled reading a similar book at one time, its warm binding felt familiar in her hands. She thumbed through the pages, not reading anything, and decided it was the perfect length for an evening of reading. As she closed the book, a tingling sensation surged through her hands. It was the feeling one has when your hands have fallen asleep and need to be woken up. The feeling surged up her arms and encompassed her whole body – and then was gone. "Woah, must not have eaten enough today." Sarah shook her head and focused her eyes "dizzy spell..." Clearing her thoughts, she popped the small book in her back pocket, grabbed her keys, and closed the door. Alright, she thought, only half past seven. She stopped as she walked down the hall. The air no longer smelled sweet. She half frowned, she had really enjoyed the smell and reminded herself to ask around and see who had been burning the incense.
The air was thick, but the rain had stopped, as Sarah walked down the street. The DEN was one of her favorite haunts. Not too many students went there. It was an old theater that had been renovated and turned into a bar/study hang out, but on a Friday night, there would be very few people studying. It had velvet couches, and candles, and there was always soft jazz playing in the background. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Sarah cursed herself for forgetting her umbrella, again. Oh well, she smiled, the desk girl with just have another mess to clean up! Hopefully the rain had tired itself out.
After about ten minutes of walking, Sarah rounded the corner. A small sign hung over the entrance, simply reading "DEN". She stopped short. There sitting above the sign was a pure white owl. It was magnificent. Sarah found herself entranced by its stare – it's piercing stare. She felt, somehow, that she had seen him, she knew it was a him somehow, before. She shook the feeling and started for the door, stopping again to look at the owl perched like a statue above the sign, again it stared at her. Closing her eyes to shut out the strange feelings, she opened the door, flashed her ID, and grabbed a couch in the far corner.
Kicking off her boots, Sarah sprawled out on the sofa. A waitress came over and Sarah quickly ordered a glass of Merlot.
Just one, she thought, that is all I really need. Just one to relax and shake off the day.
The waitress brought the wine, Sarah opened her book, and Sarah remembered.
A few glasses of wine later, Sarah sat bewildered. The words she had spoken herself, mixed with the ones from the small book, flooded her mind. "But the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with her.....I wish the Goblins would come and take you away, right now. The images of goblins, fairies, dwarves and other creatures swirled in her thoughts. She kept reading the passages, unable to stop, searching for him, the one who haunted her dreams, the one who always stayed just inches away from her recollection. Page after page, glass after glass, hour after hour, she read on. He was only referred to as the Goblin King, but she knew there was more, there had to be more, there had to be a name, she had to know his name. What had happened? Had she known him? She had, but how? Toby? I have to rescue Toby! No. Don't be ridiculous – it is just a story. It was just a dream – an Escher-esk dream....just a dream...
Sarah took a deep breath. It was well after one in the morning, the bars would chime up last call in an hour or so, maybe less, time didn't seem to make sense. Her head was spinning. All of those memories she had fought to find opened like the sky and fell upon her like stinging raindrops. Why, why had the Goblin King taken these thoughts from her? She knew in her heart that it wasn't a dream – he was real, the Goblin King was real – he was no delusional fantasy. She had to finish reading. She turned the page and stopped. Everything became clear. All of the walls crumbled and she knew.
"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my here to castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen. Though my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great..........."
Sarah looked up, her eyes welling with tears, her voice small, almost a whisper, "You have no power over me."
"What?" Came the question from the waitress.
Shocked, Sarah jumped and turned and faced the young woman. "Oh, sorry, I uh, was, God, oh man, just um, rehearsing a play. That's all."
"Yeah, sure. You want another drink, or is that it. Last call."
"Last call? It's only...." Sarah looked at her watch, 2:30. "Oh, uh, no, I guess not."
"Okay, that will be $57.50 then."
"What? You're kidding, I only had two..." Sarah looked again, there were four empty glasses of wine on the table. And one still three quarters full that she felt green just looking at. She had been there for hours, but it was still a lot of wine for Sarah. "Right. You take Visa?"
The waitress took the card and left. Well, Sarah thought that would explain the dizziness. She signed the slip of paper the waitress brought back and made sure she left a decent tip. She shook off the tears that had found their way down her cheek, signed the slip, clutched her book and exited the DEN under the watchful eye of a white owl who had not moved.
It was pouring. The rain was warm against Sarah's body, but she was still drenched and shaking. The dizziness was getting worse and the only way to steady herself was to stare at the ground and keep walking. She held the book under her jacket, close to her heart, away from the rain. Her head was spinning. Why now? Why remember now? Everything flooded back to her in wave after wave, image followed jumbled image, and always a voice in the background edging her on....What's said is said......I have turned the world upside down......Look what I am offering you.....
Sarah looked up from her walking, she should have been back at the dorms by now, but she wasn't. She was far past where the dorms were and into some area of campus devoted to sports. "Shit!" she mumbled, it was too dark to really get her bearings and she didn't often visit this part of campus – preferring the theaters and museums to garish intensity of college games. She looked around. Nothing seemed familiar, even though she knew she had seen it before on the campus tour.
Lost, wet, head spinning from wine and emotions building that she couldn't place, she stood in the middle of a small field until her knees gave and she fell to them, splashing mud onto her pale face. She angrily wiped it off and let out a guttural growl, frustrated at her own stupidity for getting lost.
"What is it you want from me? Where are you?"
As if in reply, lightning flashed and thunder pounded against the night sky so hard, Sarah thought the sky itself would fall. Lightning flashed again, and then she saw it. Sitting on a post, was the owl – the same white owl from the DEN – just staring at her.
Shakily she rose to her feet and walked toward the pole – the owl stared barely five feet from her. Warily she approached. "God Sarah," she mumbled, "If anyone saw you right now they would swear you were insane, afraid of an owl," She steeled herself and renewed her step until she was only a few feet away. She stared at it hard – stared into its, his, eyes – they were not the eyes of bird, but of man, or something more than a man, mismatched, sensual eyes stared into her own. A name pierced her thoughts – Jareth – and she whispered it, knowing now, it was him.
They stared at one another, so many emotions passing between the owl and the woman – so many questions, so many feelings, so many things that needed to be said, so much hurt, so much deep hurt. She stepped closer – anger, sadness, desire, passion, all swirling in her thoughts. She began to ask a thousand questions, but always stopped short, stopped by the thought that maybe this was just an owl, but the wine and her memories told her the bird was so much more. Rain continued to pelt her hair, but she didn't care – "Why have you, why did you...."
Without warning, the owl took flight and was gone.
Gone.
Sarah stood there alone, in the dark and in the rain, mouth slightly opened to ask questions that would never fall, questions left unanswered. Tears welled at the edges of her eyes and mixed with the falling rain. A dense and deep anger swelled inside of her, surging to the surface. Why, why bring me so close only to toy with me, you bastard! Why, why would you do this again? Are you even real? Yes, you have to be. Why would you do it again? No, not this time – NOT THIS TIME!! She backed away from the post, turned and ran to the center of the field. Her head spun from the wine and confusion, but she didn't care. She fumbled with the zipper on her jacket and pulled out the tattered book. She opened the Labyrinth, but already knew what she was looking for – she didn't need it, but somehow, it justified her actions, made them real and not fantasy – she stared strait into the night sky, lightning nearly blinding her and thunder crashing all around her. The pages were drenching even as she spoke.
"Jareth, why? Why?" She stopped, fully taking in the words she was about to say – if she said them and they didn't work, was she a lunatic? Did it mean all of this was imagined? No, it meant he would he just reject her, push her out of all thought again. Make her forget and forget her. That was her punishment for winning. They would work though, the words had worked before and would work again.....Staring into the rain once more she screamed the words, ensuring that the Goblin King and his minions would hear her "I wish the Goblins would come and take me away – Right NOW!"
Nothing. Lightning flashed and the only sound that tortured her ears was her own breathing and patronizing patter of the rain about her.
Only the thunder accompanied her into her sorrow as the dizziness overtook her. "Damn you, Jareth. Damn you." Sarah fell to the ground and wept quietly as the rain fell upon her back, soaking her though, and mixing with her tears as they fell from bloodshot eyes. "Damn you." All of it poured out of her, her fear, anger, confusion, it all fell to the ground to mix with the rain. Sarah closed her eyes and wept and everything went dark. Only the thunder accompanied her into sleep. Thunder, and the eyes of an Owl.