Thanks for the review xx

Sam quickly closed her locker, did up her coat and rushed out of the staffroom. It had been an extremely long day and she just wanted to get home and forget about it all. She quickly checked the reception to see if anyone was there. Oh no… Right in the centre of the entrance was a large group of her friends, all of whom were being pushed into positions by Tom. Cursing under her breath she put her head down and tried to walk past them, but right as she was about to leave Noel shouted out.

"Hey look guys! She's over there!" Everyone rushed over and began shouting 'Happy Birthday'. Sam looked at Zoe in despair but she just laughed and pointed at Tom who had a wide grin on his face.

"You may have forgotten about your birthday but we certainly haven't!" Everyone cheered and began dragging her over to the pub. As they made their way across the road Sam tried to think of some way in which she could get out of it, but they were having none of it.

After about half an hour in the pub, everyone around her was beginning to get drunk, and soon she was no longer the centre of all the attention. She hadn't had anything to drink as she knew she had to pick up Ben, but nobody seemed to notice. That's what she thought anyway. She hadn't noticed a completely sober Tom keeping a careful eye on her from across the bar, as she continuously looked behind her and at her watch. He knew something wasn't quite right with her – she'd been off with everyone the past couple of months, but in the past few days she'd completely shut herself out from anyone. She'd put it down to stress, but he didn't know what was causing it all.

Sipping her orange juice slowly Sam waited for her chance to leave. Tom was the only one giving her any attention, but she knew that he must get pissed pretty soon; they'd been there for almost an hour. Looking at her watch she began to worry: 7:20, she was late for picking up Ben. She sat there waiting, but nothing seemed to change. Then suddenly he jumped up, and declared he needed the loo. 'That is just too typical Tom' she thought to herself with a smile.

She took the opportunity, and snuck out of the pub unnoticed. It was about 7:40 by the time she got to Julie's house.

"I am so sorry, there was an emergency at work and they needed me to stay!" She was pretty good when it came to lying,

"Don't worry, I know how it is," Julie looked unimpressed, but Sam couldn't have cared less.

"How was he? I hope he wasn't any trouble"

"Oh no, he's been a star, we've done some painting and drawing, and have had lots of fun. Haven't we boys!" The two of them nodded their heads eagerly, Ben looking her right in the eye. "He's very confident… isn't he…?" She looked at him wearily; his stare put her on edge. Sam noticed this and began to get a little annoyed.

"Come on Ben, it's getting late." She held out his hand which he happily took, and together they walked to the car.

"And here you go!" she passed him a small chocolate bar, "For you and Todd to share." He gave her a big grin and took the bar from her. She laughed as he broke off a piece for his teddy and pretended to feed it to him.

When they got home Sam parked the car and went to open the front door, only to find it wasn't locked. "Idiot" she thought to herself – she must have been in a real rush this morning. She pushed the door open with her foot (she was holding Ben in her arms as he had fallen asleep in the car.) and closed it carefully behind her. Gently she carried Ben up the stairs and laid him on her Bed – she knew he was more comfortable in that room. As she placed him on the bed he began to stir, but she hushed him quietly and stroked his hair until he calmed down again. She pulled off his shoes but decided to leave him in his clothes as she didn't want to disturb him too much. As she was tucking him in she noticed a slip of paper in his hands; she carefully took it out and flattened it out. It was a card that he'd obviously made earlier that day, on the front was what she made out to be a drawing of a doctor (whom she presumed to be herself) and next to her a little boy (who must have been Ben, inside were the words: "To Mummy, Hapy Bithday, I love you lots and lots, love fom Ben," with a couple of kisses next to his name. As she held the crinkled card in her hands she felt herself well up, but forced the tears back down – she knew that once she'd started she wouldn't be able to stop. She'd heard people say how crying helps let it all out, that it relieves the pain, but she'd held it in for so long that there was too much pain to let out, too much that she feared to let it out – without the pain, what would there be left of her? She turned to the draw on her bedside cabinet and put the card inside (she didn't want anyone to see it), trying to ignore the pile of terrifying letters that had been building up over the past month or so, she wanted to throw them away, but for some crazy reason didn't – maybe she thought that having them there stopped her from thinking it was all in her imagination. Not that that helped mind; knowing that it wasn't in her mind meant that it was real – a thought that sent violent shivers down her spine. She looked over at Ben. He looked so peaceful; she wanted it to stay that way. She knew at that moment she would do anything to protect her son.

She thought about getting into bed straight away, but then remembered the large pile of unfinished paperwork on the kitchen table downstairs. Sighing, she stood up and began to make her way downstairs, turning all of the lights on as she did so. The dark put her on edge; anything could hide in its shadows. She flicked the final switch in the kitchen, waiting for the room to light up. "That's strange," she thought to herself, "it was working fine this morning." She flicked it again, and again, and then again, until finally it sparked and let out a quiet pop. She jumped and gave a little squeal, but then groaned as she remembered that she'd run out of spare light bulbs. She began to make her way over to the pile of paper on the table when she heard a shuffling noise behind her. She shook her heard firmly – she was imagining things now. She quickly grabbed up the pile of files and made her way into the living room where there was a working light, as she turned the corner she saw a dark figure standing at the side of the room. She screamed. A loud, piercing scream that only comes out of a person in pure and utter terror.

"Sam! Sam! It's me Tom! I'm Tom!" But she hadn't stopped screaming. She'd scrunched up into a tight ball and her eyes were squeezed shut. "Sam! Calm down, it's only me. Open your eyes. Come on!" He tried to touch her arm but she lashed out and backed off right into the corner of the room. She still wouldn't stop screaming, and now she was beginning to shake uncontrollably. Tom was panicking – he really hadn't meant to scare her. He went over and crouched down next to her, trying to pull her hands away from her ears. He put his lips to her ear and said quietly, "Sam, it's me Tom, open your eyes." And suddenly she stopped and her eyes flew open, staring straight into Tom's. He could see relief etched into every point of her face, her whole body in fact. He could feel her shoulders shaking less under his hands and her breathing was becoming a lot more even. It worried him, her vulnerability – the Sam he knew would have knocked an intruder to the floor in seconds, not collapsed on the floor having a breakdown. Suddenly her eyes went glossy and lost focus, her body becoming slightly limp. Tom shook her in panic, willing her to meet his eye. She did, but the look she gave him was so painful and full of terror that Tom had to take a breath himself to stop him from taking his gaze off of hers. He'd seen her acting out of character for the past month or two, but seeing her in this state had completely taken him by surprise, he realised just how great at hiding her emotions she was. Slowly he slid himself next to her and gently hugged her to his chest, stroking the back of her hair with his big hand.

"What's happened to you Sam, what's making you like this?" He whispered to her, knowing he wouldn't get a response. But she did do one thing that surprised him. She began to cry – something Tom didn't even think possible. And it wasn't just a small sob, it was more of a wail, a cry so full of pain and fear and longing that Tom was himself in shock – he didn't think it was possible for one person to be able to show so much emotion, let alone Sam. She clenched handfuls of Tom's T-shirt as sobs wracked her body, and Tom held her tight as she struggled to take breathes through her tears. They sat like that for almost fifteen minutes when suddenly Sam stopped and clasped a hand over her mouth. Tom took a few steps back to give her space to breathe and looked at her right in the eye,

"Sam, you need to tell me what's going on! You need help Sam, but first you need to tell me why this is all happening." After a long and thoughtful pause she just looked down and shrugged. Tom sighed; he really thought he had got through to her. He stretched upwards and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sam!" he almost groaned. "Please Sam, tell me what's going on!" She mumbled something, but Tom couldn't hear, "Sam?"

"I can't" She whispered. Tom sighed and knelt down, practically begging her,

"Why can't you tell me Sam?" He asked her very gently; she looked up right into his eyes and said quietly,

"Because I need you Tom," he wasn't entirely sure what she had meant by that, but then a little voice from the doorway made them both freeze.

"Mummy?"