Finding London by Ellie Wade (uplifting book club books .TXT) 📕

not, when I come back, she’s crying and wasted. She doesn’t tell me how she pays for the drugs, but deep down, I already know.

I know she’s in pain and that sex and drugs are her methods of numbness, but it kills me a little more every time it happens.

I’ve spent countless days at the public library, researching ways to help her, both with her addiction and her mental well-being. But nothing I’ve tried works. I’ve been tempted to turn her in, so she can get help, but she told me that if I ever did that or left her, then she would kill herself, and I believe her. I can’t lose her. The world can’t lose her. She’s good. She’s pure. She’s special. And when she figures out how to see all of that in herself and get better, she’s going to make this world a better place. She has so much to give. I just have to figure out how to make her see that.

“Come on.” I reach my hand out to her, and she takes it. “Let’s get you in a nice warm bath.”

Sarah loves baths. Up until we were able to afford this room, they had been few and far between. Even growing up in different homes, she hadn’t been given the luxury of baths too often.

The tub in this room wasn’t the most appealing when we first got here. But I went out and got some Comet and bleach, and I scrubbed the tub and the surrounding walls until they were shiny. Now, Sarah can take a bath whenever she wants.

I lead her to the bathroom, start the water, and pour in the lavender bath bubbles that I picked up for her at the Dollar Store. She loves the smell of lavender, even the chemical-imposter variety.

When the tub is full of water and bubbles, I turn to leave, but she grabs my arm.

“Please don’t leave. Get in with me.” When I don’t answer, she gives me a pleading, “Please.”

Sarah entered the bathroom in only her panties. So, after I strip down to my boxers, we both get in the water. I lean against the back of the tub, and she rests between my legs, her back to my front.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before I ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. She never wants to talk about it. I wish she would. I think it would help.

“Are you sure? You can tell me anything. I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She nods, her long hair moving across my chest. “I know. Thank you.”

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to make her let me help her.

“We could splurge on a movie?” I suggest, willing to do anything to make her feel better, to take her mind off of all the horrors in her head.

We actually go see a movie a couple of times a month, but we usually go to a matinee because they’re cheaper, and only one of us pays. The one who pays sneaks the other one in through a back Exit door in the theater that isn’t monitored by cameras. Sometimes, we get lucky and spot a large group of friends walking in. We stick close to them, and when the attendant takes the pile of tickets, they assume everyone is accounted for.

For being homeless, we have a pretty good life. Well, I guess some things could be better.

I rest my head against the top of Sarah’s, and she leans back into me. My arms wrap around her waist, and I pull her in tight, letting her know that I’m here, that I love her.

Finally, she answers, “No, not tonight. I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay.” I kiss the top of her head.

“Loïc, promise me that you’ll never leave me.” Her voice comes out in a broken sob, and I know she’s crying.

“You know I could never, would never.”

“Promise.”

“I promise, Sarah. I love you more than anything. I would never leave you. Nothing can tear us apart.”

“Nothing can tear us apart,” she repeats softly.

“Nothing.”

“I love you, Loïc. I’m sorry about earlier. Can you forgive me?”

“You don’t have to apologize, and you’re always forgiven because I love you. Nothing you could ever do would change that.”

She turns to the side now, her cheek resting against my chest. “You saved my life,” she says softly. “No matter what happens, I need you to know that you saved my life, and I’m so thankful for you. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Sarah. I don’t know how, but I promise you that we’ll get through this. It won’t always hurt this much, okay?” I need her to believe my words even though I’m having a hard time believing them myself.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Sarah falls asleep against my chest, and I hold her until the water goes cold. I wake her enough to dry her off, get her dressed in something comfortable, and get her into bed.

I fall asleep beside her, grateful that another storm has passed—at least for now. Tomorrow, I’m going to find a job that we can both do. I’m never leaving her alone again.

I wake with a start. The bed is moving violently beneath me. The room is dark, and I fumble to find the light switch above the bed. I click it on, and the space floods with pale light.

“Sarah!” I scream when I see her.

She’s in the bed beside me, convulsing and spitting foam from her open mouth.

“Sarah!” I shake her. “Oh my God, Sarah! Please don’t do this! Sarah! Sarah!” Tears fall down my face, and I pray to whoever will hear me.

I reach for the cheap motel phone screwed onto the wall. When I pick up the receiver and listen, I don’t hear a dial tone.

I hate this fucking place!

I knew that the phone connection was hit or miss, but I’ve never cared as much as I do in this moment. I wiggle the cord attached to the receiver and push it up. Finally, I get a dial tone. I push 911 as fast as I can. Thankfully, the phone stays connected long enough for me to tell the operator everything that’s happening. I beg her to tell the paramedics to hurry.

I don’t know what to do to help Sarah. She’s no longer shaking, but her mouth is ajar, and traces of spit are falling from it. Her eyes are closed, and she’s motionless. Her arm is dead weight, hanging limply off the side of the bed as I hold her in my lap. I rock her back and forth and beg her to stay. I blink back tears and notice the empty pill bottle and glass on the end table.

Oh, Sarah.

I hold my hand against her chest, but I can’t feel her heart beating. “Sarah! Please! Please! Please!”

I gently lay her on the bed. I hold her nose while I breathe into her open mouth. I have no clue how to do CPR properly, but I can’t just sit here and let her die. I put my hands together and press against her chest, like I’ve seen done in movies. Nothing happens, but I keep going while begging her not to leave me.

There’s a knock at the door, and I run to open it. The paramedics come in and get to work, putting her on a stretcher. I hand them the empty pill bottle and tell them what I think happened. In a matter of seconds, she’s being loaded into an ambulance.

As they close the ambulance doors, I cry out, “I love you, Sarah! I’ll see you soon!”

I will see her soon.

I run back into the room and get dressed. I don’t know how long it will take me to get to the hospital if using the bus, so I opt to call a cab. I don’t know why I didn’t go in the ambulance. They didn’t offer, and at the time, I didn’t think I could, but people do it in the movies. Maybe they didn’t extend an invite because they think I’m the one who did this to her. Or maybe they needed space to work on her. I know I couldn’t have done anything to help, but I feel so lost without her.

When I get to the emergency room, I run in like a crazed person. The receptionist flinches when my palms find the counter with a smack.

“A girl was just brought in—Sarah Berkeley. Well, you wouldn’t know her name if she’s not conscious yet. She overdosed on some pills, I think. I need to know how she is doing.” I think I might have frightened the lady behind the desk.

“Sir, you need to calm down. A minor was brought in, but I don’t know what her status is at this time. But I will tell you that, unless you are her parent or guardian, then no one will be releasing that information to you.”

“I am her guardian. I’m the only family she has!” I yell.

“Can I see your ID?” she asks calmly.

“I don’t have an ID.”

“I see. Well, why don’t you have a seat? Then, I’ll see what I can do.”