Sarah is a story inspired by true events. It follows a young woman, Liz as she meets her lover at a bar, only to realize things aren’t what they seemed or what Liz had hoped for. Suddenly, Liz finds herself in a tragic situation that teaches her a valuable lesson. 

Brianca J Hadnot

images-3 His friends are in town, and he wants me to meet them at the bar.

I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even know if I like him. Why Should I? He’s broke…jobless…he’s three years older than me and in junior college, what’s that? Then he has the nerve to be a playboy. Not that he likes them or anything, mostly a means to an end. Money. Food. Clothes. Rent. But that’s their fault, A man will only only do what you let him do. He know I’m not the one. Besides that, what we have is completely different, I can tell by the way he looks at me. It’s as if he has never met anyone like me before. I believe he would spend everyday with me if he could.. and the way he talks to me.  I love the way he talks to me, confiding all of his secrets, hopes and dreams in me. He told me he loved me once, like a confession and held me closer— as if to say I hadn’t any need to say it back.

Yea,what we have is different, it’s real. In fact, I will go meet his friends. Maybe, they’ll remind his ass how lucky he is.

I walk in, and I am immediately bombarded with fist pumps and high fives as they fly through the air. It’s game day and the bar is dizzying. Conservations, arguments, boos, and cheers all blend into one raucous symphony of chaos. Friends are arguing bad calls by the referee; a series of groans, and boos compete against the sports caster across all 15 well placed flat screens. Waitresses struggle past throngs of excited fans as they try to reach their tables. Guests search desperately for the attention of their server, and I question if this was a good idea after all. My stomach begins to swell up into my chest as my nerves take over, and I turn to walk away. Then as if he could my read my thoughts,I hear his voice clear as a bell through the crowd

“Liz, this way!”

My stomach plummets back into its place, this time full of wired butterflies. Three deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Wave. Walk over.

“Hey, Liz” he stands to hug me and offers me a chair between two people I’ve never met before.

“This is my frat bro James, his girl Courtney,”  his hand glides around the table quickly introducing everyone, “ Denny, Louis, Sarah, and I think you know Joe. Right? Everybody this is Liz”

I wave.

The waitress quickly brings me a  daiquiri, and I sip slowly as I survey the table. Look for the right que to laugh, or speak, nod when needed; but mostly admiring Andre. Andre is dazzling, he’s telling a story and everyone is hanging off of his every word, except me.I study the curve of his lips. The way he tilts his head when he finds something interesting or the way his laugh rises from his belly, and bursts through with out any warning. He is most beautiful in these moments.

Sarah must notice this to, she squeezes his arm, and for a slight second I avert my eyes. I notice that he begins to reach forward and I look up again. Anticipating his next move, to quietly ask to release her fucking grip, but that doesn’t happen. Instead he kisses her.

I’m shocked, it seemed so natural for them, and it looked so familiar to me. In fact, it looked like the kind of kiss he gives me, one with empty promises attached to it.

My initial nausea returns only this time my eyes betray me as well. I hurry to blink back tears, I don’t want anyone to see my pain .Sarah looks at me satisfied, I wonder if she knows as much about me as I do about her. Fuck her- no Fuck him, why embarrass me like this?

I stall, I am no longer interested in socializing, so I nurse my drink and scroll through my Instagram feed. I don’t want to seem bothered, but i am bothered. I feel everyone’s eyes watching, waiting with the same enthusiasm reserved for car crashes and celebrity breakdowns.

Andre leans towards me,  and asks if I want another drink.

“No, Thanks! I’m gonna get going soon..” I say with forced politeness.

He nods, I’m not sure if he can see through me or not. He gathers himself from his chair and comes around and kisses me. Sarah is now visibly shaken, and though I am happy to upset her, I am angry that he has done this to either of us.

Andre reaches for my ticket, and i hold it more firmly. He has never payed my ticket before, in fact he has never paid his own.

“Liz, it’s OK! I got this one” he says it lowly with a forced smile and a voice set with determination. I let the bill go.

I look about the table, and everyone looks strangely interested in their drinks suddenly.

That’s when it dawns on me, all of this- my coming, Sarah, the kiss, the bill- it’s all a show for his friends and I have been casted as the clown. I am humiliated! Why would he do this to me?

I hold it together long enough to start my car. I make it out of the parking lot and drive the rest of the way home in a fit of tears.

The gates to the complex opens, and my phone rings, its Andre. I want to reject it, but i want to talk to him. Fuck! I answer.


“Hey Liz, I wanna hang some more. Come get me.”

“Come get you? Are you fucking her?”

“Fucking who?”

“That Bitch?” I spit out, like venom.

Andre laughs and I feel my anger intensify. He told me they were friends, but friends don’t kiss.

“ Babe, whats the problem?” he is coaxing me in that sultry voice, he knows it makes me weak, “I told you iI wasn’t looking for anything serious”

My body stiffens, and i find the tears rising back up my throat, but I choke them back.

“NOTHING SERIOUS! Right? I just thought you changed your mind after you stuck your dick in me, thats all.”

“Liz, you’re tripping.” He pauses, and I don’t say anything, the silence stands between us and then he sends a jab straight to the heart, “How about we cool off for a while?”

I pause, shocked by his indifference. How is it that he is breaking up with me?

Suddenly desperate, I ask “So you don’t want me to come get you? I was already on my way” It was true, I had turned around to meet him right after he had asked me. I always want to see him.

Obviously he doesn’t feel the same, he retorts back without hesitation “ Naugh, go home. I’m good.”  the line clicks before I can respond.

I won’t go home, he can’t treat me like this! Me- his former boss, Me-who makes more money in a year than he has in his life, Me- only 23 with two degrees, Me- the shoulder to cry on, Me- the woman that drives him every where, Me-the woman who gave him my virginity. No! I won’t go home. Not without him!

It doesn’t matter! I am pulling into his driveway. Sarah’s truck is here, fuck Sarah! How stupid is this bitch? Can’t she see he is using her? He doesn’t give a shit about her, he told me as much. He just uses her car, and takes her money whenever the fuck he wants. He said her pussy was trash, and he don’t even want to fuck with her. Once he finds a job, he’ll just leave her ass. Dumb bitch!

I move to get out of my car, when I feel the door slam shut against me.

“ Liz, go the fuck home!” he has never talked to me this way before, and I can tell that he is angry, but so am I.

“No! we need to talk”

Andre turns to walk away, I follow him. He wheels around to face me once more, demanding that I leave. It sounds threatening, but I know he would never do anything to me. So I stay.

“No!” I scream, refusing yet again, and he is walking away yet again. Calm and condescending, as if I don’t matter. Anger rises inside me, my body shakes from the humiliation.How dare he?

It was he who pursued me. He that chased me. Called me. Begged me. It was he who kissed me. Said he loved me. Not the other way around, so why is he treating me like this? I waited 22 years, saved myself for a special person— and this is how he treats me? How he can just walk away like we don’t have something?

My arm swings, and for a second I forget I had control over it, I have never hit anyone in my life; but a hard thwack meets his chest, and it feels so good. So good that I can’t stop, I clobber him with a fury of blows.

He grabs me. Pushes me. Turns and walks away.

I rush forward, hitting him again! I feel empowered, with every strike I take back a piece of my self that I had stupidly forfeited to him. A piece that he clearly does not deserve. Every whack of my fist against his body, I gain a little bit of my dignity back.

Suddenly, without warning his fist comes rushing towards me like a flash in the night. Quickly tearing through the air, it collided with my jaw without the slightest bit of apprehension.

My face burns hot and before I could recover a second fist hooks around and smashes into my skull. I am on the ground.

Frantic screams fill the air, probably from that bitch Sarah who watched nearby. My face is burning from the constant fists, my head aches from the impact of the pavement.

I look up at him, one hand shielding my face, I begin to beg him to stop, but I don’t recognize him. The eyes that stare fiercely back at me are red with rage, and suddenly wide with recognition.

I lay still, sprawled against the pavement, paralyzed from fear and shock. Andre moves away from me and for a moment his eyes dance about searching. I thought he may be lost, as his eyes wander about the street. I realize he isn’t lost, he is ensuring there are no witnesses. He called to Sarah and she quickly starts the car. I hear the tires screech, as they drive away, and I realize the screams I heard were never Sarah’s but my own.

I struggle to sit up. It feels as if I am spinning, or everything else is. My body aches from the blows, my mouth is red with blood and a lump is forming on my temple lobe.

Andre’s gone. I am alone. Sarah watched the whole thing. Fuck Sarah!

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