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My head was still spinning by the time I got to my house. As I fished inside my pocket for the key to my house, the familiar stench of beer and cigarettes hit me. I sighed in frustration as I realized that my mother had been drinking again. I thought of not coming home today. Maybe Carly would let me stay over. But she'd probably give me lecture about beating up Freddie.

"Samantha Puckett! Is that you outside?" I froze. My mother must've heard me or something, even though I hadn't said a word. I needed to hide.

I had made my mind; I was going to Carly's until Mom got hold of the demons that made her drink. I looked to my left; there was nice large bush I could hide in. I glanced at the window of my apartment. My mom was coming to open the door and see if I was outside. I dove into the bush, pricking myself with branches and leaves. I spit out the leaf that I had gotten in my mouth and turned to see if my mom had seen me. I couldn't see anything.

Suddenly, I felt horrible pain coming from my scalp. I realized that someone was dragging me out of the bush by my hair. I screamed in pain and fright and found myself staring at my hairy mother, who reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. I gagged as she got her disgusting breath all over my freaking face.

"Whatcha doin' in there, eh, Sammy; I hope you weren't hiding from me!" I felt like my scalp was on fire as I struggled against her iron grip.

I shook my head very quickly. I better lie to her, or I'd be dead meat. "No, no," I gasped quickly. "I d-dropped s-s-something, that's all." I'd never say something like this to anyone else, but my mother intimidated me. She managed to make my darkest fears become a reality. She began to drag me into the house, and I didn't make a sound. Attracting the police would only make things worse.

As soon as we'd gotten in the house, she locked the front door and threw me against the wall. I managed not to make a sound and I worked up the courage to glare at her. I didn't dare make a noise. I glanced at the bottle of beer lying on the floor and pretended I was somewhere far away from here.

I was a beautiful princess. I was locked away in a castle, where an evil dragon beat me with his tail whenever he had eaten too much. I couldn't say anything, because if I did, the dragon would eat me alive. Whenever I imagined this, a prince would come on his horse and it would always look like Freddie Benson. Then I would wake up from my dream. I never understood it. I didn't even like the nub. Pondering about this right didn't matter, though.

I felt the first lash from the belt hit my stomach. It was fire, torture, pain, searing, ripping, and nightmarish all at the same time. I didn't look at my mom, because if I did, I would break down into tears, proving that I was the weak, spineless worm my mom always said I was. I could hear the belt land on my stomach again and I exhaled loudly.

You're a princess, Samantha Puckett. You're a princess, and you don't need to be treated like this.

I didn't believe it. I couldn't and wouldn't believe it. I listened to the insults my mother would scream as she beat me. I didn't understand why she did it. Did she get some sick satisfaction out of beating her little girl? As my mom got ready to give me another lash, I heard my ringtone for my cell phone go off. My mom hadn't bought for me, of course. Spencer Shay had.

The music played for the Random Dancing Segment of iCarly went off loudly. My hands shook as I reached inside my pocket for my phone. My mother growled at me as I took my phone out of my pocket.

"If you answer it, girl, you're dead."

I ignored her and answered the phone. "H-h-hello," I mumbled into the phone. "W-w-who is it?"

"Sam?" I could hear Fredward Benson coming from the other end of the line. Why in the world would he call me for? I shot a glance at my mother, who was watching T.V. while pounding her fist against the couch's armrest. I took advantage of her distraction and ran up the stairs and locked myself in my room.

I sat on my bed and hissed, "What do you want, Benson?"

I heard a sigh on the other line. "Gosh, I don't even know why I call you, Sam. I guess…I guess I just wanted to see if you were alright…okay? Don't kill me."

"I wouldn't do that," I whispered softly, saying it more to myself than Freddie. "I wouldn't kill you." I felt a rush of gratitude towards that little nub. Gosh, what was wrong with me? First I imagine Fredweird's head on princes' and now this. I must've being going insane.

"What?"

I snapped out of my little thought bubble and found an answer to his question. "Forget that and shut your little face. I'm alright, I guess." Okay, I lied. Sue me.

"Oh, okay then. I guess…I'll just, um, hang up now." What a little freak.

I nodded. "You do that." I hung up the phone and looked at the wall. Freddie Benson called to check up on me. I didn't know if Carly made him do it or not, but I knew one thing. Freddie Benson had actually bothered to see if I was okay. Maybe someone did care for me…

I sighed with content.

Wait a minute! This was Fredward Benson we were talking about! I hated that little turd. What was wrong with me? I wrapped my arms around my knees and began to cry. What was wrong with me? I tenderly lifted my shirt and examined my stomach. It was bright red and extremely sore. It also had an ugly blue bruise on it.

"Oh, crap," I whispered. Carly was going to have a pool party in two weeks, but how could I wear a bikini with these ugly marks? I decided not to think about it and fell asleep.

I dreamt about being a princess once again. You're a princess, Samantha Puckett. You're a princess, and you don't need to be treated like this.

If only it were true.