FROM THE AUTHOR: This will be the Penultimate chapter of Sara's Story. It may take a day or two for me to post the final chapter. This story has been very emotionally charged, and difficult for me to write. I'm not happy about the story, but as someone else said, it's a story that needs to be written. It's my misfortune to have been the one selected to write it. I'm probably not the best one to have been chosen,but as I said, I didn't choose to write this story...IT chose me, so I've done my very best to tell it. I wish it WAS only a story, but I know in my heart, that, somewhere in the world, there is a child in exactly the circumstances that Sara is in. I only hope that someone is there for him or her, as someone is for Sara, in this story. In writing this story, I have shed untold tears for those who are victimized and misunderstood. For those who are ostracized by those who are supposed to love them.

Sara's Story. Chapter Five. A Home That Love Built Story, by Catherine Linda Michel

I stayed in the hospital for the next three days, having as much contact with Sara as they would allow me. At first, it seemed like she was gaining strength, and it helped me to de-stress a bit when I saw that, but the third day, as I readied myself to go in and talk with her, the doctor called me aside.

“Catherine.” he began. “Sara is going downhill. We've done all we can do for her, but the severity of the beating, she got damaged her inside too much. If she doesn't show any improvement by tomorrow, well, All I can say is, we're all glad you've been here for her. We'll still monitor her, of course, and she won't lack for anything, but as far as surgeries go, she's gotten all we can do. Her kidneys are shutting down, her pancreas has almost quit as well, and her back is broken in three places. If, by some miracle she does survive, she'll likely end up a paraplegic, or worse.”

He sighed, and rubbed the sides of his nose, pinching it a bit.

“Most of the doctors don't think she'll make it through the weekend and, quite frankly, even if she does, there's no real hope for a full recovery. I know what she's asked you to do for her. Have you made any arrangements regarding her requests?”

I sat down, my strength drained from me as if a tap had been opened and left that way. I couldn't think, and tears were spilling from my eyes.

“”No doctor, I haven't.” I replied. “Things have been so up in the air, and I don't have legal custody yet, so even if I made plans, her family might fight me on them. If I get custody before she...goes, you may be sure that I will carry out her hopes and wishes. O God! Why her? Such a sweet, young child with her life all ahead of her!”

Just then, my phone began to ring. For a moment I didn't know what the sound was. The doctor gently took my hand and told me it was my phone, but I'd have to leave the hospital to answer it. I took the phone from my purse and looked at it. The number that was flashing was my lawyer's. I shut the phone off and put it back in my purse.

“That was my lawyer. Hopefully he's got some news for me, but I'll wait to call him until after I've seen Sara. Please give me a few minutes to compose myself, and then help me into the Clean suit?”

“Of course, Catherine. Take your time, and get yourself straightened out. When you're ready, you can go in and see Sara.”

I went into a nearby ladies room, still crying. I sat down in one of the stalls and tried to calm myself down. It wouldn't do for Sara to see me with my face all puffy and red-eyed from crying. After a few minutes, I managed to calm down enough so I stopped crying. I got up, went to the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. Then I wet some paper towels and, wetting them, I held them against my closed eyes, to help relieve the swellings under my eyes. My heart was breaking, but I knew I had to be strong for Sara, so I took a few deep breaths, straightened my clothing, dried my face and left the ladies room.

The doctor was waiting for me, and he helped me into the clean suit. I nodded my thanks and opened the airlock door, stepping in and closing it behind me, just like so many times before. I waited til the room cycled the air and a green light came on, then I stepped into the ICU room and went straight to Sara's bedside, where I took her hand in my gloved one, and just held it gently until she slowly opened her eyes and looked up at me.

“Oh, hi Miss Cathilynn. It's good to see you again. You've been so kind to me through all this, and I wish I had a way to repay you.”

“Honey,” I said, “There's nothing to repay. It's been my pleasure to be here for you. Everyone needs someone when they're down and hurting, and it's part of what I do at the Home, but being here with you hasn't been a burden or anything like it. I'm glad I could do it. You've even taught me some things that will help me run the Home better, so I'm the one who is indebted, not you.”

“Really Miss Cathilynn? What could I ever teach you? You're so with it, and it's like you've got it all together. I'm just a dumb kid who didn't know enough to get myself someplace where I'd be safe. I alienated my family and friends, and was too proud to go to your place when I should have. Then, when I finally decided to go, it was too late, and that gang caught me and did ... those things to me.” She began to cry.

“Oh honey! Please don't cry! What happened wasn't your fault. It was the fault of some wannabee tough guys who haven't enough courage among them to anything alone. It always takes 5 or 6 or more before they get any guts, and then it's just dumb guts. Pack mentality. THEY'RE the ones at fault, not you, sweetheart! Trust me, sweetie. I will find a way to make them pay for what they did to you!”

I avoided any references to her family, feeling that this was not the time to bring them up. It would only make her feel worse. Instead, I spoke of how she was loved by me, and Irene, and Sandra, and how wonderful it would to have her with us at the Home when she got better. She listened to me with a kind of sad smile on her face, and she stopped me, saying:

“Miss Cathilynn, that sounds so wonderful. I wish I'd come to you sooner...but I didn't. Miss Cathilynn? Lean closer to me so I can whisper?”

“Of course, honey!” and I leaned down so she could whisper to me.

Miss Cathilynn, don't tell the doctors, but I know I'm not going to make it through this. I know I'm all busted up inside, and I can't feel my legs. I can feel myself getting weaker and weaker. Sometimes I can barely open my eyes at all, even when I know you're here, holding my hand. It's getting hard for me to concentrate and I sleep an awful lot. I can tell that I'm not getting better, and I wanted to thank you for seeing me through this, before it got too late and I couldn't talk any more.”

She smiled that little smile again and continued. “Thank you for listening to me about my wishes ... when I go, you know? Even if you can't do it for me, it makes it a little easier for me that you listened and said you would do those things for me.”

“Honey, what I said I'd do, I will do. If I have to move heaven and earth, I will see that what you wanted will be done. Don't you fret anymore about that, okay? I promise!”

“Thanks Miss Cathilynn. I knew you would, but it's nice to hear you say it, and I believe you. I think you better go now. I can feel myself getting sleepy again. Miss Cathilynn?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I love you. Thank you so much for everything, okay?”

“Oh God, sweetie, I love you too! Please fight hard to stay with us, but know that, if you do leave us, you will never be forgotten. Not by me, or anyone else! You'll always have a place in my heart.”

She smiled at me again and squeezed my hand, and then she closed her eyes. Again, I checked her breathing and she was still breathing. God! Every time she did that I was scared that it would be the last time! I waited until she relaxed her hand in mine, then I let the ICU. I shed the Clean suit and left it on the floor where it fell. I didn't care about the suit. Just then I didn't care about anything but Sara. I steeled myself and went downstairs, outside, and immediately called my lawyer.

When he answered, I said, shakily: “This is Cathilynn. I hope you have some good news for me. I could use it right now.”

“I do, Catherine. I finally got the custody papers signed. All that remains is for you to sign them. I can take them to the Judge this afternoon and he will approve them on the spot. That poor kid's family wanted nothing more to do with her! They signed away their rights to their daughter with no more emotion than if they were flushing a goldfish down the toilet! People like that shouldn't be allowed to have kids at all, if you ask me! Yeah! I know that's unprofessional of me, but this case has gotten to me as well. How are you holding up? Are you okay? Is there anything I can bring you? Anything else I can do?”

“No Sam, there isn't. Just get those papers to me ASAP and get them to the Judge. I have to make some arrangements and I can do most of that on the phone once we get off this call. I'll be on the fourth floor, in the ICU waiting room. How soon can you get here?”

“How does 20 minutes sound, Catherine? I want this whole business over and done with myself. How is Sara doing? Any improvement?”

“No Sam.” I sighed. “The doctors have told me that she doesn't have much of a chance at all. Even Sara believes she's going to die, even though I keep telling her she won't. I have to see this through, no matter how much it takes out of me, and I will, but after...Sam, I need some time off. I'm going to turn things over to Irene and Sandra for awhile and look after myself better. There are more Saras out there, and I want to be around to help as many of them as I can. God willing, there won't be any more like this time, but I'm afraid there will be. While I'm on vacation, will you keep your hand in at the Home? I know that Irene and Sandra believe they can handle everything, but your legal knowledge and toughness will be needed too.”

“You know I will, Catherine. The Home is too important for a lot of people, and I will never let you down.”

“Thank you, Sam. That makes me feel a little better. Now, get yourself down here with those papers. I'll be waiting.”

“You got it Catherine. I'll be there shortly. Get some rest, okay? You know I care about you.”

“I know, Sam. When this is all over, one way or another, I'll take that time off. Now hang up. I've got other calls to make.”

“See you shortly, Catherine.” and he hung up.

I took a cigarette out of my purse and lit it, dialing a number while I did.

“Hello?” Came a voice from the phone. “This is the McHahon Funeral Home. How may we help you?”

“This is Cathilynn Michel, and I might have to schedule a funeral in the next day or so. I'll need prices on a casket and all the rest. Will you work up a precis and have someone fax it to --- ----? That's The Home That Love Built. It will be for a 16 year old child, and some special things will need to be done. My staff and I will handle most of it though.”

“Of course, Cathilynn. We can get something together for you this afternoon if you like. It will all be subject to the special things you mentioned, and what they are, but we can certainly accommodate you. Please accept our sympathies and be assured that we will help you in any way we can.”

“Thank you.” I said, and hung up.

I sat there for a few minutes finishing my cigarette, and thinking. Then I called Irene, and asked her to find the prettiest gown in Sara's size that she could find and buy it, as well as some matching jewelry, still hoping against hope that Sara would survive this ordeal and be able to wear the dress when we welcomed her to the Home, but knowing that we might be dressing her in it for her funeral.

I crushed out my cigarette, hoping it would be one of the last ones I'd smoke. I went back inside the hospital and up to the Fourth floor ICU waiting room. Sandra was still there, and as I walked in and collapsed into a chair, she came over and sat beside me, taking my hands in hers.

“Cathy, how are you holding up? This has been very difficult for you...for all of us, and you've shown a lot of strength, but I'm very worried about you. You look very pale and weak. Are you alright?”

“Yes, Sandra. I'm okay for now. I talked with Sara awhile ago and toe doctors told me that she hasn't much of a chance at survival at all. Even Sara believes she's going to die. Why, Sandy? Why would God take such a sweet soul from us, while there are so many rotten bastards who deserve to be taken?”

“No one knows God's will, honey. I know you've always been an agnostic, but you've changed over the last year or so. I think you're becoming a believer, and that isn't a bad thing. I've always believe that God had a hand in my life. After all, he led me to you and the Home, didn't he?”

“I don't know what it was that brought you here, Sandy. I only know that I'm so glad you came. You've been a huge help to me and all the residents at the Home. I don't know how we could ever have done so much if you hadn't been there to help. As for me becoming a believer ... well, a lot has happened over the last couple of years that I have no explanation for. Me winning the lottery, you and Irene coming to stay at the Home, so much that it does make me wonder if there isn't some divine power helping things along...but then, along comes a sweet, innocent child like Sara, who is in danger of losing her life because of some lowlife sons of bitches who were trying to prove some mythical manhood, bullshit ideals they have, and I can't help but doubt.”

Sandra looked me in the eyes and said,

“I know, honey, I know. I have faith and, maybe someday, you will too, that God knows what he's doing, and never does anything without a reason. It's not for us to judge. Only to accept and believe. Oh, here's Sam!”

Sam came over to where I was sitting and handed me a sheaf of papers. Another man came into the room and Sam said, “This man is a notary public. He can witness all the papers and notarize them for us. Sandra and I will sign as witnesses and then I can take the papers straight to the Judge who has promised he'd rule the minute he got them and looked them over. It'll be done today, Cathilynn. I promise.”

I looked through the papers briefly, and they looked good to me, so I signed where I was supposed to. The notary then put his stamp on them, after Sandra and Sam signed as witnesses, and signed them himself. Sam gathered everything up and, standing to leave, he took my hand in his.

“It's done Cathilynn. You will have full parental rights as concern's Sara. I'm going to leave now, but you call me if you need anything...anything at all, you hear me?”

“I will, Sam. Thank you so much for everything. I think I need to lay down for awhile. I'll call you if anything happens with Sara, okay?”

“Okay Cathilynn. See that you get some rest. As soon as the Judge signs these papers I'll personally take them to the Court Clerk's office and push them through. Sandra? You stay with her and make sure she gets some rest, please?”

“I will Sam, and thank you from me too.”

Sam left and I felt...well I don't know how I felt. Better, a little bit, because some vital stuff was either done, or being done, but very sad that some of that stuff was being done in the event that Sara didn't live through this whole thing.

FROM THE AUTHOR: Please say a prayer for children everywhere, tonight before you go to sleep? Ask whatever Deity you pray to, to bring tolerance and understanding to a world that is tragically short of those commodities?

Catherine Linda Michel