Chapter 28: A Search

Author's Note: FOUR-HUNDRED REVIEWS... Wow. Thank you guys so much, from the bottom of my heart. My close friends and close family know that I'm into writing, but they've never really read any of my stuff, and it feels great to know that you guys like this. I appreciate it beyond belief. I honestly love how into this you guys are; it means so much to me. I never want to end this story! :/ Well anyway, that's not for a while so no worries. :D

P.S. Again, this is going to be split into two parts because of the length... And maybe, possibly, for a little bit of suspense ;). Hehehe. Review!

I started pacing, Freddie's sticky note in my hand, breathing a bit louder than I was before. I was almost freaking out. I could barely survive on my own; let alone Freddork. He said he'd be back, but what if something happened before then? And really... why was I caring so much?

Marissa wheeled herself in, and she had a confused look on her face. "Sam, why are you breathing so loudly?" she asked, seeming angry. "And where's my Freddie?" She forced herself to turn her head to look for him, and I heard a crack come from her neck as she did so. The things she did for her son. She slowly turned her head back to me. "What's that in your hand?" she asked, almost growling. I could tell she was about to start freaking out because she somehow knew.

"Uh, I..." my voice faded, because I didn't want to tell her. I slowly walked over to her and handed her the mustard colored sticky note, and then I stepped back quickly before she started reading it.

Marissa snatched it out of my hand, and I watched her light eyes move quickly as she read the note. I saw tears form in her eyes I stepped back as much as I could until I hit a wall because I was ready to hear her scream. She's gonna blame this all on me, I thought.

"Samantha Puckett," Marissa said in the creepiest, flattest but angriest whisper I'd ever heard from her. She grabbed the armrest of her wheelchair and surprisingly pulled herself to her feet, struggling as she stood. She couldn't stand completely straight, and she couldn't walk fast or with big steps. She took small, short steps toward me, an angry look on her face.

I felt my back against the kitchen wall and felt myself slide down the wall, so I was sitting on the tiled floor against the wall with my face buried in my knees. I closed my eyes, flashbacks flashing through my mind like a horror movie. I remembered my drunken mom as she kicked me when I was down, figuratively and literally.

I remembered situations just like this, when my mom would blame me for something that I absolutely didn't do. I remembered already being hurt the night before, but my mom still kicking me and hitting me and punching me. I remembered crying with the most scared feeling ever, and I remembered that smirk on my mom's face when I did so. For some reason, at this moment, I was remembering everything.

I think it was because Marissa had an angry look on her face, just like my mom used to.

She's gonna hurt me, I thought. I can hurt her back, she's weak, but then she'll kick me out. I hate this. I hate life. Everyone is like this, I can't take it. As I thought, I unintentionally whispered out, "Don't hurt me." I felt tears in my eyes, but my face was still against my knees so I just shut my eyes tightly and wiped the tears off, onto my jeans.

I heard silence, and I didn't even hear a sound of Marissa walking away. I slowly looked up, my eyes stinging, to see Marissa still standing there. But now, instead of having the angry face she was wearing before, her face softened and she looked sympathetic and guilty, with a dash of confused. The moment she slightly moved her hand out toward me, I flinched a bit, but she did a slow, careful movement of just putting out her hand for me to take so she could help me up.

I breathed a shaky breath and grabbed Marissa's cold, bony hand, and lifted myself to my feet. I stood before Marissa, as she was a bit taller than me so I slightly looked up. "Sam... no matter what happens, ever, you know I would absolutely never hurt you."

I looked down. "Well, you were mad. That's what adults do when they're mad, right? They hurt their kids," I muttered, feeling almost stupid because deep down I knew that wasn't true. A second later, I regretted saying that. Marissa was just now discovering that my mom was truly abusive. The only person I'd told was Freddie, and I wasn't planning to tell anyone else. I thought I was done being traumatized.

"Oh, Sam," Marissa whispered, and she quickly threw her arms around the tops of my shoulders into a hug. She awkwardly shook me as she hugged me, and what made it more awkward was that I wasn't hugging her back. My arms were just hanging by my sides. I wasn't much of a "hug-Freddie's-mom" type of girl. She stopped shaking me but she kept her arms around me. I sighed and slowly patted her back three times. That was all she needed, and then she smiled and pulled away.

I rubbed my temples in a circular motion. "Look... just pretend that never happened, okay?" I sighed, glancing back at the note. "We really need to find Freddie..."

Marissa's smile quickly faded, as if before she'd almost forgotten about her dear son being gone and missing. It was weird, because knowing Marissa, nothing would make her forget about that kind of thing for even half of a second. I guess finding out that I was an abused child and that's why I've been living with them for months now can really shock a person.

"Sam... it's hard for me to even walk without being in excruciating pain," Marissa said, shutting her eyes tightly and touching her back as if even the thought of pain hurt her. "I need to find my Freddie and I can't let him run away again. He could get hurt, and I'd have no idea what to do with myself." I remembered when after we went to the cemetery after it'd been five years after Freddie died, he told me that his mom was so overprotective of him because of the fact that his dad died and Marissa didn't want to lose the other person she loved more than the world. Marissa then placed her hand on my shoulder and looked me seriously in the eyes. "You know Freddie so well... Honestly, it's hard to say, but since you two are teenagers, you might know him better than I do."

No surprise there, I thought.

"You have probably talked to Freddie more than anyone else lately," she continued. "Even Carly. Therefore, I think you may be the only person who might know where he is. And, you might be the only person who will be able to get him back home. I need you to go find him, Sam."

I widened my eyes and took in a deep breath. "M-me?" I stuttered. Oh no, I thought. I have no idea where he is! And if he gets hurt, it'd be all my fault. Marissa would hate me... almost as much as I'd hate myself.

I heard a crack as Marissa slowly sat back into her wheelchair. "I'll give you some leftover ham, and I'll give you money for a cab or bus or something. The doctors told me I can't drive yet, so I'm sorry. Keep your cell phone with you, and if you're not back in two hours and forty-three minutes, I will call the police to look as well." Marissa wheeled herself over to the fridge and grabbed a big, cold ham. She put it on the table, and I quickly dug in, taking the few moments I had to not stress over Freddie.


I had to pay the cab driver extra when I asked him to just drive around wherever, which didn't make sense to me. Wouldn't that cost less? I shrugged it off though, because it was Marissa's money after all.

I probably should have had a specific place in mind, but I honestly had no idea where to look. It's true, I did know Freddie very well now that I thought about it, but that had nothing to do with any places... did it?

In the older times, I would have thought he'd be at Carly's house right away. But now, I knew that there was absolutely no way. I stared at the sticky note, which wasn't very sticky anymore because I'd been holding it so long with my sweaty hands. I tried to see if he left any clues to where he might have possibly been. The note read: "I just need some time alone in a place where I can think..."

Okay, I said. He wants to be alone. There's a clue! He's not like... at the store or something. Not that I would expect that anyway. And... well, I know he loves the fire escape at our apartment, but he couldn't be there because he would have to go through his room first. Hmm...

I looked out the window. Night was approaching, as the sky was becoming dark. I closed my eyes and thought back to all of the places I'd been with Freddie before. I narrowed it down to places that meant a lot to him.

My eyes then shot open, and I gasped. The taxi driver came to a sharp stop, startled by my sudden outburst. Thank God we weren't on a highway, just a small street.

"I've got it!" I exclaimed, with total, one hundred percent confidence that I was absolutely right.