Sarah Jaks Character Analysis

“Are you going to the Idle No More walk?”

“The what?”

“Seriously? Do you live under a rock? It’s all over the news.”

“Kinda busy lately.”

“Wow. Just…wow. Dude, Native people are rising up. We’re protesting the omnibus budget bills that are stomping all over the treaties and this oil company called Enbridge—”

“Oh, that.”

“Oh, that?”

“It’s pretty much a done deal,” Jared said. “The environmental review is a dog-and-pony show to shut everyone up.”

“Way to bend over.”

He took her hand and put it on his ribs. “My mom dated this douche named David. He didn’t like my grades, so he broke a couple of my ribs. Slowly. He got a boner when I started screaming.”

Sarah flinched. “That’s messed up.”

After a bit she kissed him, then took her hand back and reached up for the j. She inhaled deep before she curled into his side.

“I feel numb,” she said, “all the time, like I took sleeping pills and can’t wake up. I just want to feel something.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jared said. “And I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me the knife.”

“Not while you’re wasted. No cutting.” He wiped her blood off his face, tasting salt. His hand came away red.

“No cutting,” Sarah agreed.

Jared let her go. She traced his face with her fingertip.

“Blood,” she said.

“Your blood.”

“You’re mine. Now and forever.”

“Awesome,” Jared said. He wished people could make undying declarations of love and loyalty to him when they weren’t half-cut or stoned out of their gourds. Or sorry.

The ape man leaned on his knuckles, sniffing the air. His head swung back and forth. He bent down and sniffed the floor. Jared lifted his feet onto the couch. There goes the neighbour’s house. Off to Kansas.

[…]

Other hands scrabbled through the floor, their nails clicking on the linoleum.

I’m here, Jared thought. Alone in the living room. I’m watching TV. Nothing else is real. I know the difference between real and not, and this isn’t real.

“You loved your dog because you were her master,” Fake Sarah said.

“What?”

“You only love the ones that crawl to you and beg for food.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Human,” she said. “We’re dying because you’re killing us.”

“I’m not killing anyone.”

“You’re killing the world and you have the nerve to wonder why we hate you.”

He heard the fireflies coming with her down the hallway, and he didn’t want to see them. He willed them away, but they wouldn’t go.

“Come back,” Sarah said. “I can’t hear them if you aren’t there.”

“No,” Jared said.

“I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“You’re coming apart,” Jared said. “It’s taking you apart.”

“We’re joining.”

“No, you’re shredding.”

“I’m not scared.”

“I am.”

The bites had healed. He didn’t feel his missing toe anymore. He should be over it by now, he thought, but as he treaded water, he wanted to get drunk, immediately. He wanted to not feel terrified or dumped or used anymore. He wanted to get out of his head and never, ever crawl back in.

“Are you going to the Idle No More walk?”

“The what?”

“Seriously? Do you live under a rock? It’s all over the news.”

“Kinda busy lately.”

“Wow. Just…wow. Dude, Native people are rising up. We’re protesting the omnibus budget bills that are stomping all over the treaties and this oil company called Enbridge—”

“Oh, that.”

“Oh, that?”

“It’s pretty much a done deal,” Jared said. “The environmental review is a dog-and-pony show to shut everyone up.”

“Way to bend over.”

He took her hand and put it on his ribs. “My mom dated this douche named David. He didn’t like my grades, so he broke a couple of my ribs. Slowly. He got a boner when I started screaming.”

Sarah flinched. “That’s messed up.”

After a bit she kissed him, then took her hand back and reached up for the j. She inhaled deep before she curled into his side.

“I feel numb,” she said, “all the time, like I took sleeping pills and can’t wake up. I just want to feel something.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jared said. “And I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me the knife.”

“Not while you’re wasted. No cutting.” He wiped her blood off his face, tasting salt. His hand came away red.

“No cutting,” Sarah agreed.

Jared let her go. She traced his face with her fingertip.

“Blood,” she said.

“Your blood.”

“You’re mine. Now and forever.”

“Awesome,” Jared said. He wished people could make undying declarations of love and loyalty to him when they weren’t half-cut or stoned out of their gourds. Or sorry.

The ape man leaned on his knuckles, sniffing the air. His head swung back and forth. He bent down and sniffed the floor. Jared lifted his feet onto the couch. There goes the neighbour’s house. Off to Kansas.

[…]

Other hands scrabbled through the floor, their nails clicking on the linoleum.

I’m here, Jared thought. Alone in the living room. I’m watching TV. Nothing else is real. I know the difference between real and not, and this isn’t real.

“You loved your dog because you were her master,” Fake Sarah said.

“What?”

“You only love the ones that crawl to you and beg for food.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Human,” she said. “We’re dying because you’re killing us.”

“I’m not killing anyone.”

“You’re killing the world and you have the nerve to wonder why we hate you.”

He heard the fireflies coming with her down the hallway, and he didn’t want to see them. He willed them away, but they wouldn’t go.

“Come back,” Sarah said. “I can’t hear them if you aren’t there.”

“No,” Jared said.

“I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“You’re coming apart,” Jared said. “It’s taking you apart.”

“We’re joining.”

“No, you’re shredding.”

“I’m not scared.”

“I am.”

The bites had healed. He didn’t feel his missing toe anymore. He should be over it by now, he thought, but as he treaded water, he wanted to get drunk, immediately. He wanted to not feel terrified or dumped or used anymore. He wanted to get out of his head and never, ever crawl back in.