When the past comes back to haunt you - part 2

Jim approached the house with trepidation. Though it had been over 15 years since he'd last been here, he still found the spare key hiding above the door frame. He opened the door and tentatively crossed the threshold.

It seemed strange to be entering this place after all these years. The last time he was here, Jim was a guest. Now he returned as its owner. Sara's parents died without ever knowing what happened to their daughter. Jim had kept in touch and they thought of him as the son they never had. They left Jim the house in their will and asked that he keep the place exactly as it was just in case Sara returned.

Jim climbed the stairs and entered her room, which looked exactly as it had when they were in high school. He placed his laptop down on the old wooden desk and then thought better of it. The mirror above the desk was covered with pictures of him and Sara. The two of them playing together as kids. Jim and Sara with their arms around each other at the beach. There was a picture from the year they dressed as Mark Anthony and Cleopatra for Halloween. Sara in her cheerleader uniform, smiling broadly on top of the pyramid. Sara's senior portrait. His breath caught when he saw the Polaroid of Sara before prom. Sara, Jim and a group of their friends had all met up for pictures in the backyard and rode to the dance in a limo together.

He walked over to her bed, full of pink pillows and lacy ruffles. The white teddy bear he won for her at the boardwalk when they were 13 lay in the corner of the bed. He picked up the bear, turning it over in his hands, gently fingering the heart stitched into the bear's arms. His skin brushed something that didn't belong - something cold and hard. Jim turned the heart over, surprised to see a small incision in the back. He reached inside and pulled out a silver chain. A diamond twinkled from the end of the chain.

He had suspected that Sara had been seeing someone before her disappearance. Someone older. Someone who was likely married. He couldn't exactly identify why he felt that way but Jim felt the diamond validated his hunch.

He lay back on her bed, staring at Sara's photos. Jim had to relive the night one more time before he started writing. He closed his eyes and let the memories from that night take over.

He saw himself, in his ill-fitting tuxedo. His date was a girl he'd long since forgotten, one who could never hope to compare to his Sara. Sara was there with the captain of the football team, a brainless jock who would look nice in pictures and who's parents had a beach house where they'd crash after prom. Their friends posed for pictures and then piled into the limo.

Sara reached under the seat and pulled out a large satchel. She reached inside and withdrew several flasks. She tossed one to Jim before opening her own and virtually inhaling its contents. Jim and Sara didn't notice when her date lit up, but the smell of pot was unmistakable.

In an uncharacteristic reaction, Sara commanded the driver stop the car and she forced her date out onto the street. The jock ran after the limo for a couple miles before Sara allowed the driver to pull over. He was breathless when he entered the limo. Sara lifted her dress and scrambled onto his lap in one smooth movement, kissing him passionately. It was all Jim could do not to be sick.

Jim's date left him shortly after they arrived. She caused quite a scene, screaming that she was tired of playing second fiddle to Sara. She railed at him, landing a few blows on his shoulders. Her parting shot was to inform Jim he had no shot with Sara. Then she turned on her heel, wiping tears from her eyes and let her girlfriends lead her to the bathroom.

His memories began getting hazy, obscured by time, booze and a little something Sara had slipped into the flasks for good measure... Jim relived his humiliation making his play for Sara's affections and being rejected. But watching the events as a spectator, he saw something he didn't notice that night. There was a man lurking in the shadows, following Sara's every moment, very carefully noting every word she said.

Jim strained his memory to remember more of this man. He was older, definitely not a student at the school. He wore all black, except for some nondescript shape which glinted from his chest when the light hit it just right. There was something vaguely familiar about him though...

Jim saw himself run from the dance, hopping into a friend's car who always left his doors unlocked and the key in the ignition. He watched as he discovered Sara's belongings and called the police. As the search for any sign of Sara again, Jim saw the stranger's face again and realized the shiny object on his chest was a badge.

Jim startled awake in a cold sweat. Struggling to regain his composure, he booted up his computer and began to write.