Chapter 1 : Freud
Friday, March 9th; 00h30 A.M.
Sam Puckett was lying in her bed. She had been thinking about her life for half an hour; and her thinking led her to one conclusion: Her life sucked.
Sam was born on 23th, May and she was 16 ¾, mind you. Sam's mom, Pamela Puckett, gave birth to her when she was 22; she was pretty young. Sam knew nothing about her father, except that he left her mom when she was pregnant with her. Pamela never got over this, and since the day Sam's father went away, she was depressed, worst, she was… empty. Her body was functional, but a part of her died the day he left her: you could see that every time she smiled, it didn't reach her eyes; you could see that every time she spoke, she was holding back tears; you could see that every time she looked at something, her mind wasn't here. Sam tried to know more about her father, like his name, but Pamela refused to talk about him; so Sam dropped off the subject.
Live with a seriously depressed mother was… well, it was…
It was almost never seeing her because she tried to drown her feelings into work; it was hearing her wake up at 3:00 AM and cry for at least 2 hours every night, it was learning at a very young age to go grocery shopping, to do laundry, to clean the house, to make breakfast, lunch and dinner because your mom was either not here or too messed-up to do it.
Thankfully, she met Carly Shay in sixth grade. Sam would always remember this day as the beginning of the rest of her –young- life.
She met Carly on their very first day of middle school. It was during lunch time. Sam was eating bacon alone at her table. Carly asked her if she could sit with her. Sam reluctantly agreed. The brunette asked the blonde girl if she wanted Fat Cakes. The rest was history.
She also met Freddie this day. He asked Sam and Carly if he could have lunch with her; he was obviously head over heels for Carly. Carly agreed, Sam said "Whatever". Freddie smiled at Carly and grimaced to Sam.
Sam never told her friends about her mother. Although they guessed that something was bothering her, they learned fast to not question Sam when she didn't want to answer. Having friends made Sam…happy. Yes, she was happy. She was always at the Shay's. She loved that place. It felt like home. Everybody feared, and still fears Sam, but Carly, Spencer and Freddie were the only ones to know that behind the armored shell was a scared little girl who just wanted affection.
But in eight grade Sam fugued twice. Nobody ever knew why, except herself and her mom. Her friends learned afterwards she went to the hospital after each fugue.
After these fugues, everything went back to normal, until freshman year. Sam experienced something quite common for girls her age : she was crushing on someone. She already has dated a few boys, but nothing serious. Plus, she had a crush on Freddie. Yep, you read right, she was crushing on one of her best friend whom she had been torturing for years who was madly in love with her other best friend. Yep, Fredward Benson; the nerdy-nerd goody two-shoes tech guy. Freddie.
As the years flew by in her head, she refused to think about last year; her sophomore year. She wasn't ready yet, it would bring back too much painful memories. She looked at her phone to check the time. It was 00:50. She put her phone in her night stand and herself under the blanket and soon fell asleep.
Saturday, March 10th; 2 P.M
Sam was in her house's attic. Her philosophy's teacher asked them to do a little research on Sigmund Freud, the "Father of Psychoanalysis". Her mom was a psychologist,and she knew the attic was full of… "psycho-lo…-gical" stuff, so she figured she would find something about Freud in it.
The attic was –curiously- the cleanest room of the house. In fact, it didn't even look like an attic at all; it looked more like a cozy little library.
It was a large room. There were two big comfy armchairs on the left, with each a bedside lamp on its side. Pam loved to go up there and hide. The rest of the room was filled up with eleven tall shelvesin three lines. The twelfth piece of furniture was actually a closet, a very little one, it looked more like a safe actually. Pam had meticulously put her psychological books on these shelves. Yes, eleven tall shelves full of psychological books.
Sam sighed. She didn't like to come here. It reminded her too much on how her mother was drowning herself into work. But she began to search any Freud related book she could find.
She didn't get up here very often, but she knew the closet always had been closed, and locked. She remembered it because the last time she went there, she asked her mom what was in it, and Pam yelled at her that it was none of her business before taking Sam by the arm and almost throwing her in the stairs. Sam was 9.
And today, that closetwas surprisingly open. Not wide open... Just enough to be tempting…
Saturday, March 10th; 2.10 P.M
O
Of course she had opened it. She discovered that the twelfth piece of furniture was filled with…books. Numbered books. But they were books. Sam got closer and picked the first one. The book was actually quite small, the cover was in leather, it felt smooth, like the book Pam gave to Sam when she was 10. Like the book Sam had hidden under her mattress. Then Sam understood. It wasn't just a book. It was a diary. This twelfth piece of furniture, the safe was filled with diaries. Her mom's diaries.
Sam was reluctant to open it. Yes, Sam spent the most of her time acting rude and enjoyed breaking the rules (How do you think she went in juvie ?). Sam rummaged through Carly's stuff all the time. She found her diary but never opened it. Sam had herself a diary, and although it was after all just sheets of paper, her diary seemed like the only thing she could freely "talk" to.
But then Sam thought again about her life. How her life sucked, how she had to live with a fucked up –come on, let's call a platypus a platypus- mother. She threw her guilt in the back of her brains and took diaries number 1, 2 and 3, the books about Freud she spotted and came back to her room.
She hid the diaries under her mattress, next to her diary. She surprisingly didn't want to read them right now. Well, to be honest, she really wanted to read them right now, but she had a paper to finish. She sighed heavily and collapsed on her desk chair.
Saturday, March 10th; 3.40 P.M
Sam had finally finished her paper. Throughout her work, she couldn't stop thinking about the diaries. She made her way to her bed and grabbed the first one. She then lied on her bed, and began to read.
Pamela Anne Puckett's Diary
Tuesday, September, 3rd, 1991.
Hello. I am Pamela Anne Puckett. I am now 18 (and a little less than a month). I am studying psychology in Seattle.
One of our professors told us starting a diary will help us sorting the problems we could face in our lives. I do not know if that is true, but I will try anyway.
OK, I am going to be honest with you, I am doing this mostly because I have always wanted a diary but never had one. I do not know why, it sounds like something weak and lonely people do. Well, I am a little lonely but I am definitely not weak.
I should probably name you ? Or is it too creepy ? I have got to go.
Goodbye D Ma Diary.
Wednesday, September 4th 1991.
.
Thursday, September 5th 1991.
Hi Hello
Thursday, October, 3rd 1991.
Hello Diary.
It has been a while since I have written in there. Nothing out of the ordinary happened to me in a month. Oh, well, I made myself two friends, Meryl and Edward. They are majoring in psychology too. They made me discover this little café called the Funky Coffee. I have never been to a café with friends before. Well, I have never been to a café before. But I like this place. Many students of the campus go here, and I have been socializing with other people.
This is all I got for you today.
Goodbye Diary.
Sam had read through two diaries, and as the days went by, Pam started to confess more every time she wrote. No deep dark secrets but details about her days, about how her friendship with Meryl and Edward made her happy, about how Edward wanted to ask Meryl out but how he shied away. She described how she would go to the Funky Coffee almost every day with her friends. She related her dates with a guy named Matthew. She apparently met him at the Funky Coffee. Sam was surprised. Pamela Puckett dating someone was kind of a weird concept for her.
She hid the first two diaries under her mattress and grabbed the third one. Pam had written the first input the 3rd September of 1993, exactly two years after she started her first diary. The teenage girl was about to read when her phone rang. She took it from her night stand and saw that Carly had texted her.
From: Carly
Girly Cow marathon + Sleepover ? :)
Sam chuckled and looked at her alarm clock. It was already 6.00 P.M. Wow, time flies when you read your mother's diaries. She chased away the guilt that was beginning to overcome her and typed her reply to Carly.
To: Carly
Of course. I'll be there in 15 minutes :)
She carefully hid the diaries she was reading with the other ones and began to pack her things. Before leaving, she quickly wrote a note for her mother.
Hello Mom,
I'm at Carly's for a sleepover.
Sam.
She didn't actually know why she left that note because : first, she was always at Carly's for sleepovers during the week-end; second, her mother will probably never see that note because she was rarely home ( and when she was, Sam almost never saw her). Plus, she didn't really seem to care about where Sam was, or what she was doing, as long as she didn't get the cops involved. One of the few times Sam saw her mom showing emotions (OK, anger) was when Sam had to go to juvie. And she wasn't angry about the fact that Sam had to go to juvie, but angry about the fact that Sam had brought cops home.
Sam grabbed her bag, her keys and left after locking the front door.
Let me know what you think !