Missing Ham


Disclaimer: I don't have any legal rights to iCarly. Nickelodeon does, it is created by Dan Schneider.


I don't feel well without my ham to nurse on but it's a school day and Spencer hasn't gone to the store for a re-fill. So I'm degraded to chewing on cheese. It's not as chewy as ham or even as tasty but it's better than nothing, I try to convince myself. Fact, you can't really chew on cheese.

Like every other day of the week I'm over at Carly's. Currently walking through her upstairs hallway, towards the bathroom, hoping to catch a shower to pass the agonizing time of having no ham. By the time I'm wearing my birthday suit and standing underneath the showerhead, I'm relieved to discover that Spencer at least remembered to pay the water-bill this month because the soothing warm water drowns my senses. I turn the nub past the red bar, soon the water irritates my skin, making it burn my skin bright red but I don't care. I don't bother to turn the nub back to a more acuminating temperature, instead I let the water touch every single limb I have. As self-destructive as this may sound, I enjoy the numbing sensation that the burns give me, it makes me feel invincible, even if it's just momentarily.

To not feel anything, even if it's for a pitiful millisecond, it stops the aching in my bruised heart.

I avoid the mirrors, instead I quickly dry myself before wrapping the towel around my naked body. My hair is in my face and it's straight, normally I would've bothered to curl my hair but I'm feeling extra lazy today, it's probably due to the lack of ham. In Carly's room, I spot a baggy band shirt that I had left behind laying on the floor, I had accidentally spilled pop all over it during the ride back. To my greatest of surprises I find it clean, then it occurs to me that Carly probably washed it for me. Smiling, I pull the black t-shirt over my head, bringing it close to my nose so I could breath in the nice scent that is Tide.

Is it creepy that I can smell a bit of Carly on it as well? Is it weird that I like it even more because of that smell? Most definitively but love does that people, love makes people insane. Most of the stalkers were born through love. Not that I love Carly or anything.

I borrow a pair of Carly's blue jeans before heading downstairs where I spot my best friend sitting on the couch munching on bit-size carrot sticks. She's too focussed on whatever trash that's playing on Tv to even notice my presence, so I quietly settle myself onto the empty space next to her. Even as my almost-dry hair rests on her lap, she doesn't turn to address me. So when she absentmindedly starts to caress my messy locks, I no longer care that she didn't focus her eyes on me. In fact I would even go as far as to thank the stupid show, that is if I wasn't high on Carly's loving touches.

Maybe a day without ham won't kill me, just as long as Carly continues to touch my hair like that, I might even consider screwing meat all the way. Carly snaps out of her daze as the credits starts rolling, and immediately I need the comfort of the fatty, hard, chewy substance that is meat. I feel her tense beneath my head but soon she relaxes, too bad her hands no longer seem interested in my scalp.

Killing the groan of disappoint that begs to escape, I sit up and ask, "When do you think Spencer will be back with the ham?"

She laughs, and I swoon. "He told me that he likes one of the cashier's there so it might take a while."

This time I let out my groan, I let it echo in my throat before it becomes airborne. Like a five-year old asking about the birds and the bees, I voice my concern "Why did God give us stupid feelings like love?"

I know I'm asking odd, not-so Sam like questions because Carly scrunches up her pretty little face in confusion. "Umm…so you could love ham?"

"That my friend, is a very wise answer indeed. I guess you can't win against God, huh?" Sometimes it hurts to think Carly knows me too well, so well she forgets that I'm not only skin-deep, that I read a lot more than everybody thinks. A lot more than she thinks.

Well, I read just as long as I'm bored and I've got plenty of meat to exercise my jaw on. Don't forget, I never mentioned anything about reading books.

After all I wouldn't want my mother suspecting me of becoming like Aunt Emily, who became so book-crazed that she stole books from the libraries until she finally stole an entire library. No, my mom already has dad to worry about, even if he isn't here and probably a thousand miles away from here. I'm crossing my fingers for a million miles.

A part of me wishes he would just stay locked up there, then he won't be troubling my mom so much, then I would be having a semi-normal family. But I know it won't be too long until he's back, scheming another scam for some poor schmuck to fall for. Then he would go right back in there, behind those thick metal bars, where he truly belongs.

Then I remember how mom never really smiles unless the conman's home, how she doesn't laugh her hardest even at my funniest jokes and insults, not unless Samson is back counting his blood money on his desk. Mom's strange like that, love made her strange like that.


Author's rant:

Okay school's settled down a bit now, but it's weird, does everyone hate their first year of high school?

Anyways, I actually have absolutely no plot for this story I suppose it'll be a surprise for you and I both to as how this story ends. How you guys are enjoying this, leave me your thoughts and concerns!