The Sorrowful Tale of Sarah Wodgski

June 4, 2012
Sarah Wodgski’s downward spiral to the depths of insanity began how many women’s predicaments begin. Simply, with a boy. In Sarah’s rather unfortunate case, that boy was easy going, flirtatious Carter Jacobson, an attractive classmate of tall stature and light red hair. This innocent, formidable young man was the source of Sarah’s pitiful agony and utter despair, and while she has now become nothing more than a blurry memory of Carter’s teenage years, Sarah frequently reminisces upon her troubled adolescence...

It was the beginning of ninth grade, and Sarah was finally allowed to have a boyfriend. On the first day of her freshman year, the determined teen arrived to school caked in makeup so heavily applied that no one could recognize her. Only a summer had passed, yet all aspects of Sarah had changed. No longer was she the innocent, modest girl her friends had grown to care for, but rather an ill-mouthed and obnoxious brat, determined to be the prettiest and most popular of them all. Sarah’s friends knew she had become something less authentic, and this fact was obvious every time she let out controlled laughter or squeaked out high pitched giggles when a person of the opposite sex was in close proximity. All she wanted was a boyfriend, and she forgot her friends and played herself in the wild pursuit.

Before the first week of school had ended, Sarah already had her sights set on several various boys, and she made many attempts to change their feelings about her from negative to positive. However, her relentless attempts were rather futile, and she sunk into desperation as the year ended. By January, however, Sarah had doubled her efforts, hair flips, and sparkly eye shadow. Her goal was to be subtly flirtatious, coy, and shy, but she was excruciatingly blind to her blunt obviousness. Although Sarah admired many boys in a very on-and-off manner, there was one boy whom remained at the top of her hopeless list of possible boyfriends, and that boy was Carter Jacobson.

By second semester, she had landed a lucky seat immediately next to him in their Human Geography class, and she chatted with him frequently. Carter, being very polite in nature, answered her questions and responded to her statements just enough to keep a decent conversation. He was well aware of her adoration, yet he was only flattered, not interested. Now Sarah, quite confused with the world, took his two-word replies as a notion that he had intense, passionate feelings for her, and her hopes skyrocketed. It was the beginning of 4th quarter when a misfortunate tragedy struck, and it was all was sparked by a few simple words from their teacher, Mr. Scotti.

“Today, we have a new seating arrangement.” 7 words was all it took to freeze Sarah’s desperate heart in terror and wash over Carter’s in cool relief. Sarah’s jaw dropped as the sentence was completed, and she mouthed inaudible words, eyes wide in horror.

“Sarah?” Asked Carter, slightly worried upon noticing her face, which was now drained of color, “Are you alright?” Very stiffly, Sarah replied.

“I... you... we... yeah.” Carter cocked an eyebrow in skepticism.

“Okay...” He responded, unsure. Soon, they were at opposite sides of the classroom, and interaction between the two had become virtually non-existent. Her friends consoled her when class was over, as they could tell something was not right.

She refused to give them complete answers, however, and sadly repeated the following: “Such a lonely day... and its mine. The most loneliest day of my life...” Her friends raised their eyebrows and shared awkward glances, but continued to try and comfort her.

The more they patted her back comfortingly, the more she would shrug them off and become more bitter. Before long, she had burst into angry tears, and her sobs and shrieks could be heard across the school. Only one person benefited from this disheartening breakdown, and that was her dear friend Jackilynnski, who realized Sarah’s dilemma was an excellent inspiration for a short realistic fiction story. Before long, Sarah had fallen into a deep depression. She focused all of her brain power on Carter, and wasted away her days studying his every move. Soon, she had memorized his address, phone number, his route to class during school, and even the location of each of the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose. Simply put, she was obsessed.

Fixated on Carter, Sarah resembled a mindless zombie. Her friends had long abandoned her, and only a custom made blow up doll resembling Carter she had ordered off Amazon kept her company. Carter was well aware of her obsession, and he did his best to keep his distance. However, when he glanced out his bedroom window to see Sarah perched in the oak tree in his backyard, binoculars in hand, he knew she had crossed the line, and it was time to take action.

It pained him to do so, but Carter filed a restraining order. Sarah was not allowed to step within a 30 foot radius of Carter, and her beloved life-size doll was confiscated. In terms of his home, she was not permitted to step within a two mile radius of it. After a week of this torture, Sarah was finished. She broke down in the middle of a passing period and began to belt out Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. After making this frightening scene, she was escorted into a van by local police and taken to the nearest psychiatric hospital. There, she was detained for several days and tested many times to determine her level of mental sanity. She was unaware of her surroundings, however, and was unable to answer. Her mind was on Carter, and Carter only.

Sarah’s friends never did see her again. Failing the mental tests miserably, she was put into a mental institute and is currently on several medications attempting to cure her misunderstood insanity. In spite of these numerous pills and various methods of therapy, she has yet to pass the mental capability test required for release into society. She spends her days in constant remembrance of Carter’s face, and her nights lost in dreams, living a life with Carter that never was.





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