Broken But Not Gone
Sam's broken. Everyone can see that. She's lieing there in the hospital bed, attached to a heart machine in a coma. But Freddie knows how. He doesn't want to say, he's too scared. But when it comes down to it, the only thing that can save Sam is if he spills. Will he save her. Or is he too scared about himself? After all, he knows that Sam's broken, but not gone.
Nothing to gain, hollow and alone
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own
- Linkin Park, Somewhere I Belong
Chapter One
Her blonde curls were everywhere, lank and greasy from not being washed for three weeks. Her chest rose and fell slowly, with a robotic movement, and she lay there, limp. Freddie Benson sat there in the armchair next to her, tears glazing over his brown eyes. The girl he supposedly hated, the one who would take the piss out of him at the first opportunity, the toughest kid in school, was the one in the hospital. People had asked him so many times why she was there, but he refused to say. He refused to go back to that night, to when she had to be put on life support.
"But doctor!" He turned his head to the window. There was a policeman outside, who looked like he was being refused entrance. Freddie watched as he got increasingly agitated, knowing why he wanted to come in. Him. Not being bothered to pay attention anymore, he turned away to see her again. Samantha Puckett was lieing there, broken. Carly wasn't allowed to come anymore, she'd gotten too upset. Everytime she stepped in, she broke into heart-wrenching sobs. Spencer eventually banned her, even though sometimes she still comes. Carly was becoming broken too. All the colours she wore was now black, and she didn't talk to Freddie anymore. He'd quickly realised that the whole friendship the three of them had had, was revolving around Sam. If she was gone, so was Carly, leaving Freddie there on his own. Slowly, he'd started to build up walls around himself. He'd become more and more depressed, but still managed to stay on top of things. He never talked to anyone, and didn't care about people seeing him cry anymore. His mother was becoming worried, and he could see, but he didn't care. She'd even written him a list of depressing quotes, showing him what he'll end up like, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. Slowly, the tears he had been holding back overflowed, and started to trickle down his face. The door swung open, and he jumped a foot in the air.
"Fredward Benson?" the police officer asked. Freddie nodded, expecting the questions that would follow, already knowing his answers.
"I would like to ask you some questions," he said, before sitting down. No answers expected then, thought Freddie, rolling his eyes.
"Where were you the night of the 10th of September?" he asked.
"In my room," Freddie lied with ease.
"Do you have proof?" the policeman asked.
"Yeah. My mom," Freddie replied. The policeman looked at him suspiciously, but carried on.
"Do you know how Samantha Puckett was attacked?" he asked. Freddie shook his head, praying that the policeman wouldn't say how. He didn't need to have it repeated.
"She was found with hammer marks on her chest and arms, and baseball bat marks all over her body. She had two stab wounds through her leg. Do you know how this happened?" Freddie shook his head, then finally grasped what the policeman was trying to say. He sat up.
"Hang on a minute!" he said, his eyes flashing with anger. "You think I did it?" The policeman sighed, and sat up slowly.
"We have to suspect everyone Mr Benson," he said. Freddie was fuming.
"I have no reason to harm her, and if I did, do you think I would be here?" he asked patronisingly. The policeman's eyes narrowed.
"Sir, do not offend a policeman, as-" he began, but was cut off by a small voice.
"Get out," it said. Freddie turned to the door. Carly was stood there, clothed all in black, tears rolling down her face.
"Miss, you do not have the right to-"
"Get out," she said again. "You're the one with no right, coming in here and suspecting Freddie. This is a hospital, where people get better Detective. Not where people are interrogated, so if you don't mind, goodbye," she said, and stepped back, holding the door open. The policeman was flustered, and walked out of the room in a rage. Freddie didn't even bother thanking Carly. She wouldn't of replyed anyways. For a while, they both just sat there, watching Sam.