1Pairings: None really
Note: Italicized words still mean the past.
Rating: Maybe...PG-14...
Warnings: Hints of prostitution/rape. Suicide/cutting, alcohol.
Author's Note: I hope you enjoy my fic. Please let me know how you like this chapter. I took my time writing it. Review and let me know what you think!
"Hey Odd," she said, walking up to him. He smiled, tilting his head to look at her. She looked a bit different, more...insecure.
"Hey Sammie, you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she replied, grinning at him. "So, what's up?"
"Not much," he replied. He stretched and she watched him, smiling a little.
"Why don't you and the rest come over to my house for a bit? We can hang out back. We have a pool..."
"Sounds great, I'll see if they want to come. Wait here so Jim doesn't yell?"
"Sure."
She sat down on a bench, laying along the seat, swinging her legs back and forth so that she kicked up the dust. The sun was shining down through the overhanging branches and she yawned sleepily. I need a good night's sleep, she told herself silently. But that was the one thing that had been alluding her lately, and when it did grace her with its presence it brought along haunting dreams that faded in the daylight.
She had awoken in an alley, cold and alone. Not sure of where exactly she was. It was still dark out and a part of her wondered if her parents were worried about her yet. How long had she been gone? Her mouth felt like it had cotton growing in it and her stomach heaved when she started to stand.
She sat down again, resting a few minutes before digging her nails into the brick wall and pulling herself up, starting down the alley, toward the road. Under a street light, she saw a phone booth and she stumbled into it, closing the door and grabbing the phone.
She dialed a number, not even sure if she'd put money in, but nonetheless it rang. A sleepy voice answered after several rings.
"Hello?"
"Odd. It's...It's me. Sam. I need...I need you," she whispered.
"Sam?" The voice fell silent for a moment. All she could hear was steady breathing and she swallowed, not sure how long the call would last, and she still needed to tell him what street she was on and- "I'm sorry Sam. Don't call here again."
And the line went dead.
"Sam? Hey Sam, you alright?"
She sat up quickly, smiling when she saw Odd, a backpack draped over his shoulder. Ulrich, Yumi, Jeremie, and Aelita stood around him. "I'm fine, must've dozed off," she replied, grinning at them and standing. Her forehead creased as she tried to remember the dream, but it was fleeting fast.
"Sam?" Odd's hand rested on her shoulder briefly and she jumped a bit, smiling again.
"Sorry," she replied quickly. "Come on, you all wanna go swimming?" she asked. At their nods, she started leading the way back to her house.
"You sure your alright? You don't seem all here," Yumi said softly to her as they entered through the back gate.
"Thanks for the concern Yumi, but really, I'm fine," she told her. "Hey, I'm gonna run in and change, help yourselves to whatever's in the kitchen and if you need to change, there's a room right next to the kitchen that's a bathroom," she said, running inside.
"What's up with her?" Ulrich asked, walking over and testing the water.
"She told me that she hasn't been sleeping much," Odd replied. He removed his shoes, looking at the backdoor. "I'm worried about her."
"That's great, just don't get caught up with her again. Keep it platonic, surface level, don't fall for her again," Jeremie said.
"Yeah, you remember what happened the last time," Ulrich said.
"What happened?" Aelita asked.
"She cheated on him. She's a great person, just a bit wil-" Yumi began.
"Stop it. Okay, just leave her, me, alone!" Odd exclaimed. "What happened between us concerns us not you." He pulled off his shirt and jumped into the pool, ending the discussion.
Sam came out a few minutes later, looking a bit pale, a towel wrapped around her waist. She sat down on one of the chairs, gathering her hair up into a ponytail, watching as the others changed and entered the pool.
She was laying stretched out on her bed, watching the clock. Something was happening at 12, something important. Something she had to stay up for. Something...something...
Her eyes felt heavy so she stood, pacing her room, alternating from looking at the clock to the window. What was happening? Something was. Something important...something that could get her in to trouble. Something that could...
The clock hit twelve and the doorbell rang. She froze, listening as her dad moved around, opening the door and talking loudly. Her mother's shrill voice filled the air, always shrill when she'd had twelve-to-many to drink. Always flirtatious, there would be trouble.
She sat on her bed, staring at her hands. They were curled into tight fists, her knuckles nearly white from the pressure. She swallowed and shifted as she heard footsteps come towards her room.
The door creaked open and hall light spilled around the figure of a man. A friend of her father's most likely. He entered her room, followed by her father, he was counting paper, probably the Euro's that this man had just given him.
"Samantha, this is Greg Klein. A very close friend of mine. I'm sure you'll know how to be a proper hostess and entertain him?" her father said.
She nodded, knowing that either way, she would be entertaining tonight. Greg grinned at her and she shuddered, watching as her father closed the door with another creak.
"Sam?"
Her eyes opened blearily, barely focusing on the spikey blonde haired boy in front of her. This one was to real, to gripping. She felt the pull and gave him a small smile before going limp in his arms, letting the dream pull her back down.
The water was hot and steam filled the room within seconds. She stood in the shower, her head bowed against the on-rushing water, welcoming the burning. Anything that could bring feeling to her body again. Greg had left twenty minutes previously, probably sitting in her living room, enjoying cigars with her parents.
She fumbled with the bag of shower essentials she kept on a shelf, her fingers refusing to bend and grasp the object she was looking for. Finally she grabbed it, pulling the slender razor out and studying it carefully in the dim light. The blades were still red, now running in rivults down the handle and over her fingers. She took a washcloth, lightly running it over the blades, cleaning them carefully. She swallowed, closing her eyes and biting a fist as she pressed it to her hipbone.
The first slice was always the hardest.
Author's Note: Wow, that was darker than I intended! I'm sorry guys. Maybe I'll just discontinue it. Who knows. Should the rating up? I don't think so, but I'm not good at ratings... Please review and let me know what you think!