6:03 p.m. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
Sara
They were short on money again, but that never really bothered Sara. She was the calm, cool personification of the glass half-full. She normally wouldn't even have mentioned it to Kevin. But there were so many days left to get through, and she was really short this time. Pinching pennies short. And he asked her for a couple bucks - just to make it through the week. Was she expected to just hand over money to him - like a weekly allowance? "I don't have any money, either," she snapped. "I've been using credit cards all week."
Why did she say that? Kevin hates when she uses her credit card. Too late now. The truth had been spoken. And this time, it broke her. "Everything's fine, everything's fine, everything's fine . . .don't worry about it. Don't worry about it!" In her head, and to Kevin . . .trying to ignore what she had just exposed.
That she was $10,000 deep in credit card debt - and getting deeper. And she resented Kevin for being surprised by that . . .how did he think she was paying the rent when he was out of work and she was struggling to provide for two people while trying to be a full-time student? A degree which will never pay back the time wasted, the stress induced, the debt piled up.
Sara did what Sara does best. She ran. She locked herself in the bedroom and let the tears come, while Kevin was left in the living room wondering what the fuck had just happened. The tears came like an orgasm . . .releasing the tension. God, it felt so good to have an emotional response to a difficult situation. Sara practices the art of non-reaction, so a good cry is a guilty pleasure for her.
And then she plotted. Who is Sara? She's no one. She's worthless. She works to live, and her life is spent working. And she hates her job. How many people would miss Sara? How many people would truly be devestated? Kevin would be taken care of . . .and she would be free.
Would her life insurance policy cover suicide?
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