WHAT HURTS THE MOST
Chapter Eight
With all the money that she could
find safely tucked in her purse and a suitcase filled with clothing, Sarah
stood in line for a train ticket to Boston. She took a deep breath and slowly
released it. Even though her feet were on the ground, her mind was elsewhere.
It was with her father. Was he in the morgue right now? Or was he being put in
a casket already?
Sarah didn’t want to focus on
that. She didn’t want to come to terms with her father dying. Right now, she
just needed to get out of Philadelphia, put all this behind her.
She felt like she could get out
of Philadelphia now. Her father would be buried in England with the rest of his
family. Sarah knew that she wasn’t capable of planning a funeral. She was too
young, and besides, it was her own father.
She moved up the line and bought
her ticket. In her hands lay freedom. She was tingling with nerves and excitement
at once.
She got on the train and found
her spot, nestling into the seat. She put her head against the window.
As soon as Sarah had her big,
brown eyes shut, her mind immediately snapped back to her father. Through
closed eyes, she could feel tears welling up.
What? Five minutes ago you
were excited about meeting your mother, and now you’re about to cry? she thought to herself. What is wrong
with you?
My father’s dead, she replied back mentally. I am allowed
mourning, aren’t I?
Sarah knew she was now mentally
fighting with herself. One step towards insanity. She squeezed her eyes shut
tighter. She felt tears attaching to her long eyelashes.
"Ya all right there,
sweetheart?" a woman asked.
Sarah opened her eyes. Her vision
was a little blurry from the tears that had welled up. She wiped what little
there was on her cheeks away. "I’m fine."
The woman sat next to her.
"Ya don’t look fine."
"No, no, I am," Sarah
lied. "Really."
The woman gave her a glance.
"Margaret Brown. Molly for short."
"Sarah. Sarah Hockley."
Hockley. Just that last name
meant everything to Sarah now. It was the only thing that she had left of her
father.
"Hockley," Molly mused.
"That name sounds familiar."
Sarah felt the lump in her throat
again. She was sick of feeling like she was going to break down at any time.
"Hockley...golly, I know
I’ve heard that name before," Molly continued.
"Mrs. Brown, please
stop," Sarah said softly. "I’m sorry. I’m just having a really bad
day. I’m not in the mood for talking."
"Somethin’ buggin’ ya,
darlin’?" she asked.
Sarah looked over at the large
woman sitting next to her. Her wild blue eyes had the best of intentions, but
she just was a bit persistent about how to get people to talk. She played with
the hem of her brown dress, stopping just at her knees.
Do you think something’s
bugging me? she thought.
She felt the train start to move
beneath her. She saw people with suitcases rushing past, trying to get to their
own train.
Sarah didn’t know what came over
her, but she got up and ran to the back of the car, past people’s seats. They
looked at her like she was crazy, but Sarah had little time to notice or care.
She ran to the conjoining car of the first and second class and leaned against
the wall. Just like last night, she allowed herself to sink down and cry.
All Sarah wanted to do was have
her life go back to normal. Go back home. Have her father there, alive and
well. Even to hear him say sweetpea one more time would make her feel like the
luckiest girl on the planet.
She was now crying so hard that
she was worried she might throw up. She could hardly catch her breath. Her face
was red, her brown eyes puffy and red. She didn’t know what to do now. How was
she supposed to keep going on with life when the only thing she knew and trusted
was gone forever?
Sarah let out a small whimper as
she curled up in a ball. She was still sitting up, even though she would rather
have been laying on the floor doing this. Nothing felt more uninviting than the
bright sun streaming through the clean windows of the train. She wanted
darkness, where no one could see her vulnerable.
But of course, Molly Brown, being
the nosy woman she was, had to check on Sarah to see where she was. Molly was
quiet for several minutes before crouching down and saying, "Sweetheart?"
Sarah looked up, sniffled, and
wiped her eyes. "My dad died last night," she said softly.
She wants to go home
But nobody’s home
It’s where she lies
Broken inside
With no place to go
No place to dry her eyes
Broken inside.