The gun feels like it weighs a ton in my hands, its wooden stock feels coarse and ancient in my hands- I guess that's what I get for buying it second hand. I take my attention off the gun for a moment and study the walls of my old apartment; it's once bright walls are now faded with time and lack of care, kind of like me I guess. I returned to Seattle after years of going out on my own, praying for death to find me and take me away from this hell I call a life, but finally I gave up and came home.

After all if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself right? I let my fingers brush over the cold steel of the gun in my hand, an old single shot shotgun, and fumble for one of it's shells that I've tucked in my pocket. I'd used the last of my money from that shoe corporation, hell I can't even remember the name now, for this gun and a half a box of shells. The half a box was a waste I know, but they wouldn't just sell me one shell.

I imagined my funeral: the casket they'd put what was left of me and close forever, the weeping people standing over my dead body as they put me six feet under. I shook my head to snap myself out of these thoughts and found I'd put the gun down, was I changing my mind? I fumbled into my other coat pocket and pulled out my cell phone, about to do something I hadn't done in forever...

I called Sam.

"Hello?" Came the familiar voice of my blonde tormentor, I'm amazed she has the same phone number after all this time.

"S-Sam.."

"Freddie? Oh my god where are you?"

"You'll never believe me if I tell you.."

"Try me."

"Bushwell Plaza.. My old apartment."

"Talk about a trip down memory lane." She said with a soft smile, "You realize you've been gone five years?"

"Has it been that long?"

"Yeah, Carly came back about two years ago, looking for you. I told her you'd disappeared."

"My mom..."

"I'm sorry Freddie, she passed away about 6 months ago from what Spencer told me."

"Spencer told you?"

"Yeah he still lives next door, I live in L.A now."

"Really? That's um.. Good for you." I say softly and, before I can stop myself, tears began to slide down my cheeks. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry.."

"You don't need to apologize for anything." Sam said, "It's my fault, both mine and Carly's... We never meant to leave you alone." She said, "Carly misses you."

"I miss... I miss her too, I miss both of you, but I can't deal with it anymore." He said miserably, "I'm about to do a very bad thing Sam... a very bad thing."

"Whatever it is you're about to do don't... Please, I'll come back and get you... You can come and stay with me and Cat."

"Who?"

"Cat Valentine, remember when we went to Los Angeles to confront Carly's cheating boyfriend?"

"Oh right, I musta forgot.." I muttered and looked up at the clock "I need to get going Sam."

"Don't, Freddie I mean it... She needs you."

I bite back a sob, "I have to do this Sam, I have to... I can't do it anymore, I'm sorry... Oh god I'm sorry.." I then hung up before she could reply, no need to get her more involved than I already have. I consider calling Spencer but that would just take up more time than I had. I flip through my phone and sigh, Carly's number hadn't been active in what seemed like forever so it was no use calling her.

I let the phone drop to the floor, it doesn't matter if it breaks anymore, and pick up the gun. The metal barrel has gotten cold again, the floor must be cold. My hand falters for a moment as I bring the barrel to my mouth but I think of Carly and the rest is easy. The barrel tastes like the pennies I used to stick in my mouth when I was child.

My finger wraps around the trigger and again I pause, can I do this? Can I end my own life this quick?

Then I think of Carly and the rest is just so easy...

Note: This is the sequel to Solitude, a fic I published last month, I hope you guys enjoy and if you haven't yet please read Solitude. I don't own iCarly or Victorious or anything else that appears in this story, so please read and review?