September 2011
It's the one year anniversary. Fredward Benson has been dead for a year. And today is Tuesday, and I had history class this afternoon at Ridgeway. I felt sick halfway through class and the teacher gave me a hall pass to use the restroom. I wasn't a bad girl anymore. I wasn't some big tomboy that everyone was afraid of. I was just Sam Puckett, girl who had a best friend who died.
But when I made it to the bathroom, I felt so overwhelmed. I just slid along the wall until I hit the floor and cried. I cried for myself. I cried for Freddie. I cried because Carly was different now, she was a bad girl, a rebellious, skanky popular. I cried because Mrs. Benson still hasn't had the heart to accept the fact that she'd never find her son. Because he's dead. It's been a year and he's not back. They'd found his body, somewhere in the woods. He was riding his bike down the sidewalk and was hit by a car. The guy was likely drunk and shoved him into the wood. The accident was hit-and-run. He was dead on contact. I remembered everything. Every moment I spent with him and every moment I didn't.
I remember when I was little. It was winter time, and I was still living in Indiana with my mom. I would build snowmen in the front yard with her, and we'd play in the snow. There was a wicked long icicle hanging from the awning. I told my mom that she should take it off the roof and put it in the fridge. To save it. She walked up to me and picked me up, and walked me over to where it was hanging off the awning. "Sammie, honey, you can't be selfish. You can't preserve something just because you love it. You can only love it while it's here, and then wish it well when it's gone."
I don't exactly know why this reminded me of Freddie, but hey, it's the same principle: you can't preserve something forever; you can only love something while it's here and be glad you had it once when it's gone.
He's gone.
But I'll still write to him.
Dear Freddie,
It's been a year. Why aren't you back? Why are you still wherever?
Maybe I should just accept the facts. Maybe I should just accept that you're dead. That you're gone and never coming back to me. To Carly. To your mom. To iCarly. I'll never been in that family of happiness, of you, me, Carly, and Spencer that I was in for two years.
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that only the good die young.
You know what Freddie? I think I love you. Not past tense. Not 'loved'. I love you right now. Even though you're not around. Just know that, Freddie. I love you.
I miss you,
Sam Puckett
I finished this final letter. I put it in an envelope and into the box. Then I got dressed into my good clothes, because today was his memorial service.
Author's Note: OOOOHH, cliffhanger!! Yay! Next chapter should be the last. The funeral. I hope you've enjoyed my fic and I'm sorry for any mistakes.
Reviews are love,
jesswrites