Fear (A Scarecrow Fanfic)

Chapter Seven

As soon as I opened the door, I knew I had made a mistake.  At first, mother looked surprised to see me back so early, but the surprised arch of her eyebrows was quickly replaced by a scowl.  I sat my purse down on the table, waiting for her to begin.

"What are you doing back here?  You're supposed to be leaving Arkham thirty minutes from now," her voice was almost accusing like I had asked to leave early or like I had skipped over some patients.

I turned to look at her, "For some reason, the guards brought the patients to me ahead of schedule.  I finished all my reports and there was nothing else for me to do."

"There's always something you can do," she stated with narrowed eyes, "for instance, if your office is as filthy as your apartment, you could've been tidying it up."

I looked around, not noticing anything had changed from before I left earlier today, "Right, have you cleaned?"

She scoffed, "Of course, this place went from being a pigsty to livable.  Can I trust you to make a suitable dinner, or will you keep me on my feet slaving away for you?"

"I'll take care of dinner," I answered, turning away from her so she couldn't see the scowl forming on my face.

I pulled out a pot, all the while listening to her ramble about how my life is in shambles and how I need to get hold of myself.  Tuning her out with thoughts of work seemed like the best option. Halfway through cooking the spaghetti, I became aware of her presence just behind my shoulder.

I debated making conversation with her for awhile. The food was done before I could bring myself to say anything and we sat down at the table in silence.

She was the first to break it, "I'll be tagging along to visit the asylum with you tomorrow."

I paused mid-bite and put down my fork, "I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?"  She didn't wait for me to explain, "So my presence doesn't force you to work, or am I an embarrassment?"

"It's an asylum, not a playground," I stated, "I didn't want Jasmine going there either; this has nothing to do with you."

She scowled, "You're a horrible liar, Sarah, don't gamble."

I stood up from my chair, tired of being called a slacker and a liar, "Perhaps I should go somewhere else before this escalates."

"What's the matter, can't handle the truth?" She pressed, crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from loosing my temper, tasting the sharp metallic blood as it oozed from the wound. Without a response, I picked up my plate, putting away the leftovers before setting the plate in the sink. My mother's eyes followed my every action, seeing through me.

When I picked up my purse and keys, I heard the chair scoot back, "Where are you off to, Sarah?"

"Anywhere," I muttered, a place already in mind, but she didn't need to know that.

"I was just trying to help," she sounded offended, but at that moment, I didn't really care, "Your life isn't perfect and neither are you, so don't act like you are, Princess."

Ignoring her taunt, I left, quickly escaping to the underground parking lot and getting into my car before she could follow. After starting it, I pulled out my phone, calling Jasmine as I pulled out onto the street, already heading for her apartment. She answered the phone after a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jas, it's me.  Would it be alright if I stayed over at your house tonight?"  I asked, already knowing the answer.

I heard the excitement in her voice followed by confusion, "Yeah, of course!  What's wrong?"

"My mother's in the city for..." I sighed, "not long, I hope."

"I'm sorry," Jasmine muttered, her voice soft.

I gritted my teeth, frustrated tears welling up in my eyes, "I'll be there in a bit, bye."

Without waiting for a response, I hung up, tossing my phone into the passengers seat as I blinked rapidly. By the time I got to Jasmine's house, tears streamed down my face and I was ready to curl into a ball and cry.

Jasmine waited for me outside the building, watching me park the car at the curbside and get out. Without speaking, I allowed her to hug me, a new wave of tears leaking from my burning eyes without my consent. She patted my back in an attempt to comfort me before letting me go and leading me inside, up the stairs, and into her apartment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked as soon as I was seated on the couch.

I took a breath, words pouring out in an endless stream of incoherentness, "No matter what I do, I'm a failure! My house is a mess, my patients won't answer my questions, I don't have a life, I-"

Jasmine rolled her eyes, leaving me. When she returned, she held two glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. She filled up a glass and handed it to me, "You're always so focused on doing everything 'right.' All you need is to learn how to have fun. You're not a failure, Sarah, don't believe what your mother says."

'Easier said than done when you were raised to believe you were a failure anytime you did something wrong.' I drained the glass in seconds, letting her fill it up again.

"My mother would kill someone if it meant I could be like you," she stated, "and you know how she is."

I drained the glass again, remembering the devout Christian woman Jasmine's mother was.  She wouldn't kill anyone, even if it meant she'd die a painful and lonely death.

"My whole family is filled with failures and the tradition continues through me," I muttered, taking the bottle of wine.

Jasmine sighed, not seeming to notice even as I chugged it in front of her.  I tuned her out, getting three quarters of the way through the bottle before she noticed, forcing me to let it go as she took it away.  Already, I felt sluggish, not much of a drinker and having a low tolerance for alcohol.

"You have work tomorrow," she scolded me as she stood to put the bottle away, "you shouldn't drink that much."

I frowned, keeping my mouth shut as my thoughts returned to work, darkening my mood more. 'It doesn't matter if I even show up to work. I haven't been able to help anyone because they don't want to get better. Hell, they'll drive me insane before I can get them to open up to me...especially that bastard Crane.  Why does he have to be the most difficult?'

My eyes slid closed and I stretched out on the couch, allowing the sluggish feeling to consume me.  It wasn't enough to keep me from being afraid that I was exactly what my mother didn't want me to be.  It wasn't enough to keep the nightmares away.