Disclaimer: I don't own icarly. 'Kay?
A/N: Prologue. The actual story will tell how Sam got where she is.
If there was one person Sam never wanted to end up like, it was her mother.
That's why she became friends with Carly in the first place
Funny how things turn out…
Because despite her efforts, here she was
sprawled across a strangers couch.
Drunk.
Her mom's typical Friday night.
And now hers.
She watched the people passing by.
She couldn't make out faces or voices; it was all just a giant mass of teenagers.
All here just to get their weekend fill.
None of them were like her.
No one was like her.
This was her life now.
It's who she was always supposed to be.
She is a Puckett after all.
And that's all she'll ever be.
A Puckett.
A fuck up.
"A Faggot"
Her own thought stabbed her in the heart.
That only meant one thing to her.
She wasn't drunk enough.
She needed to be numb, to forget.
Carly sure has.
It's been three weeks, still no word from her.
From anyone actually.
And it was killing her.
No one cared about her…
So she had to stop caring about them.
She picked up another bottle and fell deeper into the couch.
Into her subconscious.
"I need to forget" She kept repeating over and over.
And it's ironic
How badly she wanted to forget,
And how impossible it was for her too.
Because even as she slipped into a deep sleep, her mind still came back to that one question
"Why can't she love me?"