Woo I'm on a roll. haha Here's chapter 7! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly

I was frozen.

I couldn't move.

I couldn't feel.

I couldn't breathe.

And I didn't care.

I stood where I was, unable to move. People walked around me, jostling me as they rushed by to dance to the new song that the band was playing.

I no longer cared about the concert. I just wanted to go home so I could rid myself of the pain that I was feeling.

I willed my feet to move, and slowly they began to respond. I made my way back to the table where Tom had left me.

Oh shit.

Tom.

Damn it. He was probably searching for me. How long was I gone? I couldn't tell. I'd lost all sense of time. It couldn't have been that long though.

I quickly pushed my every thought of Sam to the back of my mind. I needed to focus on Tom right now. He'd probably be mad at me for being gone so long.

"Hey, there you are." I turned around to find Tom standing behind me.

"Yeah, um, hey, sorry about that. I had to use the restroom."

His eyes were burning into me. "Yeah, that's cool…"

I nodded, and looked away. "Is it okay if we leave? I'm not feeling good."

"Yeah, sure." He looked at me concerned. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing, just, the music's kind of giving me a head ache is all."

He met my eyes again, but I quickly looked away.

"Yeah, okay." He grabbed my hand and led me away and out of the dance hall. He quickly hailed a cab and we clambered into the back.

It was a silent ride. I glanced over at Tom, but he was looking out the window. His eyebrows were furrowed but I was in no mood to ask him what was wrong. I just had to focus on getting to my room without falling apart.

The cab finally pulled up to my apartment building. We were silent as we got out of the cab, silent while we waited for the elevator, silent all the way up to my floor. When we reached my door, I turned to say good bye to him, but Tom cut me off.

"Is it okay if I come in for a little?"

I sighed. "I don't know Tom. I'm really tired, and I really don't feel good."

"Just…please?" He looked at me pleadingly, and I couldn't refuse. So I opened the door and he followed me inside.

I turned to talk to him but he quickly said, "Can we talk in your room?"

I sighed. I really didn't want to talk to him, but if we stayed down here we might wake Spencer up, which was never good because he would be very grouchy all of the next day.

"Yeah, okay."

He followed me silently upstairs and into my room. I walked over and sat down on my bed. Tom closed the door. He paused, facing the door, and sighed.

"I saw you with her."

I froze.

"I can't believe you would do this to me."

He turned to face me. My blood froze. The Tom I knew was gone, and in his place was a monster.

"After everything I've done for you." He walked menacingly towards me. I stood up from my bed and backed away from him.

"Tom…"I said warily.

"No, don't fucking Tom me! I've been nothing but perfect for you and this is how you repay me! You fucking bitch!" Before I could even register what was happening, his hand connected with my face. I fell to the ground, my hand clutched my cheek.

"I can't fucking believe this! You're a fucking whore!" He yanked me to my feet, squeezing my shoulders tightly. He was breathing hard, his eyes glowing with rage.

"Are you seeing her?" He glared at me intensely and shook me hard.

"Are you fucking her behind my back?"

"No! Tom, stop! I'm not! Please Tom, you're hurting me…"

He growled and threw me back onto the floor.

"You're lying."

He swung his foot which connected with my stomach, knocking the air out of me.

"You're a fucking lying bitch."

He grabbed my arm, pulling me up again, but I was knocked back down when his fist connected with my face.

I was crying, begging him to stop, but he continued to pummel me. I curled in on myself, trying feebly to protect myself, but to no avail. It seemed like forever before he finally stopped.

I lay on the floor, sobbing quietly. Tom was standing over me breathing hard.

"This is your lesson. Don't fucking lie to me again, you understand me? Or I'll make sure you'll never see the fucking sun again."

He gave me one more kick in the stomach before finally leaving.

I curled in on myself tighter.

Spencer found me the next day, curled up in my bed, gazing emotionlessly out the window. When he came around to look at me he started when he saw my bruised face and arms. He asked me what had happened, who had done this to me, but I didn't answer. I couldn't even look at him.

Spencer freaked. He quickly left. I didn't know where he was going, or what he was doing, but I didn't care. I just wanted to lay here forever.

I knew where Spencer had gone when Freddie rushed into my room with him. They were talking to each other, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I felt like I was under water, looking up at a life that was supposed to be perfect. I was drowning.

Freddie came over to me and grasped my hand. His face was blurry, but I could see his lips were moving. What was he saying? I couldn't hear him.

"Carly…Carly can you hear me?" Freddie looked at me pleadingly.

I nodded.

Spencer came around next to Freddie.

"Carly, you have to tell us what happened. Did someone do this to you?"

My eyes met Spencer's. Concern filled his gaze.

I nodded.

"Who. Who did this to you Carls?"

I flinched at the use of my nickname. That was one of Sam's nicknames for me.

I shook my head. I didn't want to speak. I didn't want to tell them anything, but I knew I had to. I couldn't lie about what had happened. There were bruises the shape of hands on my upper arms, so I couldn't just say that I had fallen down the stairs. I also had a black eye, which was swollen almost completely shut. I couldn't make an excuse for that either.

So I looked into my brother's and best friend's eyes and told them.

Freddie was pissed. He was cursing Tom's name, pacing around the room, his fists clenching and unclenching.

Spencer just sat there silently, and then turned to me.

"We have to call the police, and tell them what happened."

I didn't nod. I didn't look at him. I didn't do anything.

Finally, he got up and walked out of the room. A few minutes later I heard him talking on the phone.

Freddie was still pacing.

"I'm going to fucking kill him. That piece of fucking shit!"

If I was in a normal state, I would have been surprised by the profanities streaming from Freddie's mouth, but I wasn't in a normal state, so I just lay silently.

I closed my eyes and drifted back to last night when I had been wrapped in Sam's arms. I had felt so safe, so warm. I didn't care what this was going to do to my mental state; I was already messed up enough. I just wanted to feel at least the littlest bit better.

It was like we were back on the dance floor. Her arms around me, mine around her. I could smell her like she was right next to me. I basked in that feeling, letting myself forget where I was, forget everything that had happened. In my head, it was just me and Sam.

I don't know how long I lay there, but after some time, Spencer came back into my room with a police officer. He asked me some questions, which I answered. I don't really remember what I said, but I hoped it was helpful.

Spencer let me stay home from school for a week. Freddie and Lacy would come by everyday after school to give me my make up work. They would stay and talk to me, but they treated me like I was going to fall apart any second. Which I was, but no one needed to know that.

Tom had disappeared. Lacy hadn't heard from him since that night, and Freddie had tried to hunt him down, but he was gone. I didn't know whether to be happy or scared. It didn't matter to me. I just wanted him to never come near me ever again.

I was starting to heal. Some bruises were slowly beginning to disappear and the pain was fading. Well, the physical pain.

I thought about Sam a lot. I thought about why she was at the dance, why she had changed, why she had come to me. I didn't understand it. She hadn't talked to me for months. She had gone out of her way to hurt me. But she had been at the dance. She had danced with me. She had held me.

Freddie had brought me something else to think about. He came over after school on Friday by himself. Lacy had to stay after school.

"Sam talked to me today."

My eyes flashed to him.

"What?"

Freddie came over and sat next to me on the couch.

"I said Sam talked to me today."

I turned towards him.

"Really? What'd she say?"

"She asked where you were."

My heart began to pound.

"She wanted to know if you were all right."
"What'd you say?"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I told her to fuck off. That she didn't deserve to know anything about you after what she's done. We got in a really big fight."

I frowned. "Oh."

"Yeah." He sighed.

He looked at me, but I turned to look at the floor. I could feel my head ache coming back. I could feel Freddie's worried eyes on me, but I didn't want to see it. I'm so tired of everyone treating me like I'm going to break.

I was already broken, so they had nothing to worry about.

Freddie left after awhile. I just sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV.

Sam had asked about me. Did that mean that she still cared about me?

My head was pounding; my body was beginning to ache.

No, it was happening again.

I needed to make it stop.

I made my way to my room, closing and locking the door behind me. I rushed to my desk. Yanking the drawer open, I grabbed my scissors and then sat down on the floor.

I didn't want to hurt anymore, and this was the only way to make it go away.

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