A/N: Yes, she lives.
I am hoping that happy news would stop you from hurling tomatoes my way...which tbh I totally deserve. To be honest I did not think I would be writing again after such a long hiatus. I moved to a new country, Covid happened a few months later causing me. to be stuck there as I lost a family member in my home country. Amidst it all, I lost my will to write. This is literally the first time in nearly 3 years I've written something creative that's more than 500 words so this is probably not very good. I was actually inspired by some fanfiction I started reading on here earlier this week- especially the work of Whoknowstv so shout out to her for reigniting my love for this ship.
Disclaimer: This includes mentions of child abuse… Look fam, at this stage this whole story is a trigger warning as it has themes of neglect and child abuse that will be explored in-depth throughout it. So just be cognitive of that.
Anyway, I make no cash monies off this so please don't sue me.
Chapter 3
Sam feels like a walking corpse; exhaustion floods through every nerve in his body. He is mere seconds from succumbing to it and crumbling to the floor with every step he takes towards his shared room with Stevie. Miraculously he makes it into the small space and throws himself on his bed as quietly he can, careful not to wake the sleeping teen on the bed opposite his. His stiff muscles unthaw once the gentle sheets embrace him. He takes in a deep whiff of the lavender-infused into the bedsheets, allowing it to comfort and lull him to sleep. Sleep called to him like a siren to a sailor at sea.
His day was too long. His week was no better. Work, though monotonous as always, pulled on the strings of his psyche and body slowly undoing them day by the day as he took extra shifts and side jobs after his failed burglary attempt a little more than a week prior.
His mind drifts to the young woman whom he had met that evening. He thought of her quite a bit…too much for his liking. The bag filled with items from her home rests under his bed seeming to relish in taunting him with her memory. He was consumed by the thought of her, only escaping her in his dreams. But even before his mind was granted rest she would taunt him and be the last image to bid him goodnight.
He had concluded it was his guilt barraging him daily basis as he felt as though he had broken a promise to her. He felt as though the small sad yet encouraging smile he had given her when she filed a request for his presence again, was an oath of sorts. But he has yet to return thus breaking his unspoken vow to her. Then of course there was also sheer curiosity…a perverse sense of curiosity if he were honest. He wanted to know what drove her to such an end; was her life truly as sad and miserable as she had proclaimed that evening.
Though she was a total stranger, she was human and Sam could not help but pity her. Perhaps it was because there was something so familiar about her. Perhaps it was because of the pain clouding her eyes.
That pain was something Sam knew intimately. Some days he handled it better than others. Most of the time it was a dull ache that felt like nothingness. Other times it was gut-wrenching, skin-crawling, all-consuming pain that wrapped itself around his heart and buried itself in his lungs leaving him gasping for oxygen. It made his body tremble as it slowly crumbled from being torn apart from the inside.
On their own accord, his shut eyes started stinging as tears swelled in them. The thought of his own pain conjures up memories of his father, someone he wished he could forget for the last 7 years of his life. But even in death the man still abused him. His memories pack the same punch as his fist to Sam's seven-year-old body.
His hands tighten around the bedsheets while a thick lump forms in his throat. Sam curls into himself trying his best to stop his body from trembling and sobs from erupting from his lips.
'Real men don't cry.' His father always told him that.
Sam could remember being in the exact same position as a child; only allowing himself a few minutes of indulging in the pain he was forced to ignore in his father's presence. He could not cry too long in fear that his father would find him and punish him more. So that's what Sam would do. He would take a minute to yield to his pain before taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes dry before anyone could find him. Even on his first night back home after his father's death that was the only 'crying' he did. At this stage of his life, he had mastered it because 'real men don't cry.' And Sam was a real man.
But sometimes even as a little boy, Sam thought that he did not want to be a man then. He wanted to be a girl because maybe then his father would like him better or at the least ignore his existence as he did Stacy's. Sam had envied how invisible his sister was to their father since her birth.
Sam uses the little energy he has left fuelling his body and shakes his head wiling the thoughts away. He tries emptying his mind and focuses on his breathing. Soon his stiff body finally relaxes again allowing drowsiness to have its way with him. Before long, he is fast asleep but not before the face of that girl sends him off.
Sam had to admit that his father might have been right; he was incredibly stupid. Sam was never the brightest crayon of the bunch. That may be why he was back at the scene of the crime. He tried defending his stupidity by finding a valid reason to be here; that is, to return the goods he had stolen from her.
Something felt incredibly wrong pawning off the items he had stolen from her after witnessing her at her lowest. He felt in the name of human decency he had to return her things as if he had broken some sort of code. He was tempted to sell them, he would admit as he knew he could have gotten a pretty penny for them, however, they weren't worth this humanity. The expensive goods thus had laid beneath his bed attracting a community of dust bunnies. Since he had no use for them he thought it best to return them.
That was why he was currently in her manicured backyard seeking entrance to her home. He had thought of just leaving the bag on her front porch, however, the driveway was in the useless security guard's line of sight. He could leave it in her backyard but he doubted she even knew the directions to this side of her property….
Or, well, that's what Sam told himself to justify breaking into her house yet again. In reality, he was curious to see her again and ensure she was fine. Maybe then his traitorous brain would finally let go of her and his guilt would be relieved.
As Sam's luck would have the very same window he had used the first time was still open. Sam could shrug it off as nothing more than the maid forgetting to close the window of this specific bathroom again because it was probably never in use. However, another part of him thought it was left open on purpose as an invitation to him of sorts as dumb as it might sound. Of course, he could not turn down the offer though so he slid his tall, lithe body through the window.
Once inside the sound of music greeted him. The piano's notes called and asked him to follow them so he obliged their request. As he walked he tried recalling where he has heard the familiar sound, however his recollections were fuzzy at best. The song sounded so familiar to him though.
He was led to the source of the beautiful sound to find the familiar girl sitting behind the large instrument with eyes closed whilst she composed art. She looked at peace as her fingers danced over the keys- a gentle smile tugging on her full lips. Her body sways with the notes that fill the air. One could see she was a master at her craft as her relaxed demeanor spoke of how little concentration she needed. It was as though the instrument was a part of her- an organ merely fulfilling its function without its need to be reminded.
.Only once the girl noticed his presence did the beautiful music stop to be replaced with a slight screech. They stared at each other in silence neither knowing what to say. In all honesty, Sam had not really thought of what exactly to say to the girl once he saw her. Her guard is up, Sam notes as her shoulders are tense and her eyes are alertly studying his every move.
Finally, after a minute sound finally leaves his lips.
"I came to return these."
His voice sounded harsh from disuse; it's the furthest from how he wanted to sound. He had hoped his voice would be seasoned with gentle reassurance.
Her eyes dart to the bag in his grasp in understanding.
"O-o-okay." She stutters out still not moving.
"You should really lock your bathroom windows," he states lamely not knowing what else to say. He was not the only criminal out there and he was pretty sure a large number of them would not hesitate to take advantage of a vulnerable girl like her.
She shyly nods in embarrassment as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear.
"You came back?" She had not planned for it to leave her mouth as a question but she was taken aback at his sudden presence. "I didn't think you would come back anymore."
Anymore.
That word implied she had thought he would have returned only to give up. It seemed to Sam as though she had waited for his return. Slight shame rested in his belly at the thought that the girl had anticipated his visit only to have him disappoint her
"As I said, I want to return these." He reiterates not knowing what else to say.
She nods casting her eyes downward.
"Okay."
"Yip."
His eyes fall on the plate of food on a small side table next to the piano. It seemed as though she was in the midst of eating dinner before the piano called to her. To be honest the food did not look all that appealing. Sam was not opposed to vegetables at all, however, he did have a problem with cauliflower pretending to be meat as it was trying to do at the moment.
She caught what he was staring at it and quickly explained.
"I'm on a diet, trying to lose some weight, ya know."
She sounded embarrassed.
"You look fine." He says nonchalantly. And that was the truth, sure she packed a little extra but she was not an unattractive girl by no means.
She snorts in return.
"If you wanna lose weight do it for yourself not because you want to be like other people." He says. "And like I said, you look fine."
She considers his words and bites back the lump in her throat before silently whispering an okay. She tries changing the subject by asking:
"What's your name, by the way?"
Sam quickly thinks on his feet.
"Jack….Jack Ryan?"
"You're a terrible liar."
He can't help but smile at that encouraged by the slight smile playing on her lips. He still can't give her his name though.
"And yours?"
"Rapunzel."
"Ha-ha, funny," he states dryly but he can't help but chuckle.
"You're the one that started this."
He rolls his eyes that are visible through the eye sockets in the balaclava A awkward silence grows between them which Sam takes as his cue to leave. He had done what he set out today, and he found the girl in better spirits. He thus believed her ghost would now finally leave him be in peace.
"Take care." He states before turning around to leave empty-handed. "And lock your windows."
"Jack?"
He turns towards her questioningly. "Yes?"
"Will you come back again?" She asks staring at her hands in her lap. She's bashful and unsure of herself. The words leave her mouth in a rush as though she had to force them out before she loses the nerve to utter them aloud.
Sam sighs inwardly annoyed at himself for being forced into another unspoken contract with the girl.
" I'm bringing pizza next time."
With that, he leaves down the hallway retracing his steps to the bathroom. He makes sure to close the window from the outside hoping that the girl would heed his warning. In all honesty, he was not sure if he would indulge her and return, but he would be lying if he said her asking for his presence didn't warm a part of his soul.
'Until next time'- he thinks glancing at the large house before disappearing into the woods to make his way back home again.
A/N: I know people are gonna ask for an update for 'Now and Then'. I am currently working on it. I have like the rough draft of the next chapter on my laptop so hopefully, I'll upload it within the week. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this.