Chapter Seven: Day Old Hate
So let's face it, this was never what you wanted
But I know it's fun to pretend
Now blank stares and empty threats
Are all I have, they're all I have.
So drown me, and if you can
Or we could just have conversation.
And I fall, I fall, I falter
But I'll find you, before I drift away
-City and Color
"Mom?" she asked into the empty hallway, leaning onto the wall for support.
Waking up that morning wasn't as brutal as the previous nights, she hadn't had a run in with either Dave or her mother, which lead her to believe that she was either asleep or passed out somewhere in the house.
"Mom?" she yelled again. She had woke up late this morning, making her miss the bus, and need a ride to school, that is, if her mother was capable of giving her a ride.
"Mom?" she asked one more time, peeking into the room her mother usually occupied, and saw nothing. The room was empty, clothes scattered all around, 2 or 3 discarded beer bottles and a ripped comforter. It looked like the room had been trashed.
"Gross." She muttered, stepping into the room. She wondered where her mother could have gone, it wasn't unusual for her to get up and go, but most of the time she herself was aware of this a few days before, as she would see the suite cases pulled out of the hallway closet.
Walking atop of the trash and forgotten clothes she made her way over to her mother's bed. Nothing much had changed in the room since her father had left, everything was pretty much the same, just older and covered in dust, she assumed her mother hadn't touched anything since the man's departure.
Kneeling down at the side of the bed she lifted the comforter that had slightly fallen to the side, throwing it over the top of the matters. Leaning down she maneuvered herself so that she was able to get a clear view of under the bed. There was a mountain of abandoned bottle and orange juice containers used as mixers under the bed. She began digging throw the large amount of bottle, the glass hitting each other, admitting loud clangs. She knew that somewhere in the mess was a full or at least half bottle of something lying under there.
Once she managed to grab onto one that she felt was half full she began to pull it out, when she spotted something from the corner of her eye. Sliding the bottle out from under the bed by her feet she reached her arm further under the bed, sticking her finger into the side of the box where a small whole was located.
Bumping her head on the metal of the bed frame, she freed herself from the small space. Rubbing off the dust from the top, she noticed that it was a old show box. It seemed that it had been under the bed, untouched, for years.
"Mom, are you here?" she yelled once more for good measure. Stealing alcohol form her mother was one thing, but stealing her possessions was another.
When she received no response after several seconds she opened it, and was shocked. There was a large pile of old photos, one's old enough dating back from when her parents were married, and onces as recent as to her 6th birthday. She had never seen any of these before, and wondered why. What was her mother hiding from her?
Shuffling through them she pulled one from her parents' marriage. Her mother was wearing a hideous, puff sleeved dress, and she laughed. They looked so young and carefree and most of all happy, something she couldn't remember her parents ever truly being. With a slight smile on her face she placed it back in the box, and pulled out another.
It was of her and Melanie on Halloween; she was about four and was dressed up as a little devil, and devious smile on her face, her sister as an angel. She smiled at the irony. She actually remember soe of that day, she ended up beating up some of the other boys when they made fun of her sister, and cried when she had to be taken home without any candy, thankful that day she had a sister who got enough for the both of the and was willing to share.
The next one tugged at her heart, and brought tears to her eyes. It was the last photo that was taken of her and her father before he left. He was holding her on his shoulders, it was the Fourth of July, and she could see the glare of the brightly coloured fireworks lighting their skin. Her eyes were wide and full of wonder as she looked up at the sky. Her father smiled slightly looking up at the sky.
She could see herself, young and happy, where she could laugh without worry and wear her heart on her sleeve. She was sitting in front of the couch, juice box in hand and a smile on her face as she looked up into her father's eyes. He smiled back at her, beer bottle in hand.
She could hear herself ask him if she could have some of his juice, she shared hers so we wondered why he wouldn`t let her try some of his.
"This is for big kids Princess," he would tell her gently, ``It`s a special drink for older people.``
She would look at him with a curiously with childlike innocence, ``Why do you like to drink it so much?`` she would question.
``It makes me feel better." he said carefully.
"Like if you have a tummy ache?" she would blink questionably.
"Not exactly Princess, sometimes adults feel stressed, and it….makes them feel happy." trying to choose his words carefully, but his mind was fuzzy and he couldn't find the words to explain it to his baby girl.
"Like magic?" she would ask in wide eyed delight.
He would smile at her efforts to understand his world, her big blue eyes filled with questions that he could never answer, but he loved her all the same, she was his little Princess, and she always would be. Mother would tell her that daddy was sick, we she couldn't see it, but they had taken Melanie away because daddy was too sick. Auntie and Uncle took Melanie to live with them, but she didn't know where, and her young mind couldn't process why, but she felt okay with it.
"Yes Princess, like magic." and he would reach out and take her golden locks into his hands and run his fingers through them.
"Wow!" she giggled.
"Now Princess, me and mommy need to talk, so you need to go into your room and play with your Baby Doll." and he would pick her up gently, holding her tightly in his arms. He would bring her into her room and lay her softly on her bed, and would then lovingly place a kiss on her forehead.
"I love you daddy." she would beam, and he would mumble a quite response and would close the door.
After a while she remembered she would hear screaming, the sounds of things being thrown across the room and her mother crying. She must have been sad that daddy was sick. She would then curl up under her covers, holding her Baby Doll to her chest and pray for daddy to get better.
She was so young, she didn't understand what was really going on, she didn't understand why mommy cried at night, or why daddy didn't come home till early morning or for weeks on end, and she was petrified when the big men with bright lights on their cars took her daddy away.
Mommy cried for so long, and she would try everything to make her smile again, but she never did.
He was in a hopeless pursuit of that magical time when he was happy. Before the alcohol short circuited his electric brain and pickled his conscience. Before he experience the agonizing pain of waking up after a nightly black out, then bleak mornings and days full of anxiety and doubt.
He would grab that first cold bottle of beer each night as if it were going to transport him and his problems to good times past. Instead, it leads him to a place where pills and alcohol were needed to put him down for the night.
He would drift into a world of nightmares, and paralyzing fear because he couldn't stop, and she followed him, because she loved him so much.
She followed him into his whole of distress and depression, because she couldn't let go of him. She could feel her eyes becoming moist and she sucked in an icy breath to hold them back.
She couldn't pull out any more, memories flooding her mind that she tried so long to forget. The tears started to escape from her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. Why did he have to leave her alone, she was so scared and he left her, she thought he loved her.
Shoving to picture into her pocket, if she had to live with these memories she felt that she deserved this, her mother sure as hell didn't, she didn't love him like she did, he was her everything when she was younger.
Holding the bottle of liquid close to her chest, she grabbed the lid to the shoe box and was about to shove it back to its rightful place when she heard the shuffle of shoes. Turning around she spotted Dave.
His tall stature blocking the door, his dark hair was greasy hair was pulled back into a low pony tail, and his eyes clouded and dark.
"This explains a lot."
She quickly turned her face almost as soon as she spotted him, not wanting him to see her like this, it gave him an opening to attack.
"Sammie, if you wanted some alcohol all you had to do was ask." he stated, moving from his position on the door frame.
"No it's, it's okay." she said, trying to collect her composure, she could see his shadow covering her.
"Next time you want some," he began, kneeling down behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, "Come to me and I'll give you what you want."
He brushed her frizzy hair behind her ear, then traveling the length of her hair down to her lower back, and continued down until her paint line, letting his hand linger there.
"For a price of course." he breathed into her ear. She shivered, her breath hitching in her throat again. She could feel the sudden feeling of danger again that she felt around Devon and his friends.
"What's the matter Sammie?" he asked, grabbing her by the chin and turning her head towards him, "Why so sad?" he said as he took in her expression. Her lips were red and swollen, as were her cute flushed cheeks, and he loved it, right down to her bloodshot eyes.
"You know you know you can tell me anything." he smirked, and kissed her on the cheek.
Panicked she jumped up from her stop, making him release the slight grip he had to her body. He was too close, and she couldn't take the twisting and nervous feeling her stomach kept admitting.
"I'm fine, really I am." and she turned around and began to run, but was jerked back by a sudden tug on her arm.
"Don't forget, I'm always here if you need me." and with that he released her.
She didn't hesitate to run out of the room and slam the door to her own. She was becoming more afraid and nervous around him, he was so much more bold when her mother wasn't around.
Taking the picture out of her pocket, she gave it a glance, her mind was blank when she looked at it, but her heart was sore. Walking over to her night stand she set the picture against a old soda can, and popped the cap off the bottle.
Disclaimer; I do not own iCarly or any of the characters.
This is a short chapter but a very important one, a lot of the stories plot revolves around it.
Next chapter there will interaction between Sam and Freddie so look forward to that, because something big happens in it which leads Freddie to somewhat confront Sam.
So I hope that I am keeping your interest, even though I'm getting the feeling most people either have lost interest or do not like this, I'm hoping next chapter will recapture the attention.
I wrote this today since I have to day off, so I decided to post it. Also since next chapter will be quite long, it might not be up for a while, give or take a week.
Enjoy!
