Love all the reviews! They really do make my day, gives me inspiration to write. Another short chapter, but there isn't too much left of the story.

Chapter Five: What I Meant

It had taken Greg only a short time to realize what he had done was wrong. It didn't matter that he was angry at her, and frustrated with her unstoppable mood swings, what he had said was wrong. How could he expect Sara to act rationally when his own actions were far beyond that?

Still he couldn't find the courage to face her at the moment. Instead he kept himself busy with the case, meeting Robbins below in the morgue. The doctor met him with a nod, proceeding to work on the body, a young female, close to Sara's age. Greg reckoned that under all the burns, the girl probably looked somewhat like her as well. Or maybe it was only his imagination.

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his head as he focused on what Robbins was saying. Something about the girl living alone, with no immediate family that was known of. Old records had pulled up several alarming facts about their victim, having being released from a mental institution not too long ago. There were several previous records of attempted suicide, reports stating that she had severe mood swings, mood swings that reminded him of the ones Sara had been having recently.

Greg gripped the table tightly as Robbins continued to point out the COD and TOD, and a variety of other noticeable facts, not even paying the slightest attention to him. Greg's mind was racing at top speeds, no longer hearing the doctor's words as they began to blur together, becoming muffled. She couldn't, wouldn't….would she? Greg knew her behavior had been rash before, but was it enough to prompt her into taking her own life?

Greg had thought of the possibility before, but had dismissed it quickly. After all, this was Sara he was talking about; she wouldn't do something crazy like that…then again he had stated himself that the Sara he once knew was gone. He knew the old Sara would never even think such a thing, but what about this new Sara?

Guilt quickly caught up with the fear that was overriding his systems, as his words came back to him. He cursed under his breath, fearing the worse as he straightened up; ignoring the concerned look Robbins gave him. Pushing back through the doors, Greg walked only far enough so that he could not be overheard, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Sara collapsed on her couch the moment she entered her apartment. Fitful sobs overtook her tired and worn body, causing her to shake violently as she cried, barely able to breathe. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping through her body from the near collision that had happened. It terrified her even more, the simplicity that by all means she should be dead, but wasn't. It was dumb luck that she had been able to swerve out of the way from the large truck, dumb luck that she had been able to make it home in one piece.

Everything hurt, hurt in way that it was far beyond pain. A pain that she could not describe, something she was certain could not be fixed. She gripped the pillow tightly, burying her face in it as she continued to sob relentlessly, her breath catching in her throat. How much longer? How much longer would it go on like this? With each passing minute, she felt herself drifting even further into the darkness that had started to overtake her so long ago.

Sadly, she could not even remember why she had become so upset in the first place. What had been so horrible to make her forget her life, to forget who she once was? Sara squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into her pillow. It was so hard to breathe, to think.

The shrill ringing of her phone caught her off guard, and she raised her head dully, her hair clinging to her face. She stared dully at the device that sat next to the lamp, sniffing inwardly as it continued. With a choked sigh, she laid her head back down as it rang one last time. She had no desire to answer it, all she wanted to do was lay here and die. The world would probably be better off without her anyways.

As the last ring went past, her answering machine kicked in, her own voice floating through the dark apartment. "Hi, you've reached Sara Sidle, I'm not at home right now, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you when I can."

The recorded message was so old; she hadn't changed it since the day she bought the phone six years ago. She opened her eyes some as a new voice floated over to her, and she couldn't help but raise her head some, staring intently towards the phone.

"Hey Sara, its Greg…"

There was a brief pause, and she could hear him sigh. "If you're there, pick up, please. I've tried you cell and you're not answering, and no one seen you around."

There was another pause, a longer one this time, and he continued on. "Come on Sara, please. Don't scare me like this; I need to talk with you. I was upset earlier; I didn't mean to say any of that. I really do want to help you…just give me that chance. Please Sara, please pick up. Let me know you're still alive, let me know I haven't lost you yet."

Greg's voice was unsteady, close to breaking as he whispered the last part. Sara felt a twinge of guilt inside her, and at the same time, relief. Someone did care about her…but was one person enough? She heard the call end as Greg finally hung up, and Sara rested her head against the arm rest. Was one person really enough to change everything, or would it only make matters worse?