The author apologizes for making Sam's life a wreck.

Chapter 4

In between

It was often described as a thick line. A thick black line that ran through the middle of two borders. The border of light and the border of darkness. It was long, stretching out forever, a gray thick line that seems to suck you in.

If you're not careful, the line appears before you, in between the world of light and the world of darkness. There, there was no light…there, there was no darkness. There was nothing, an empty space of emptiness. The void.

It was called the land of the in between. A land that feels nothing, that breathes nothing, a land without emotions.

There is nothing, here, nothing at all. People do not live, people are not dead.

What is left is an empty shell.

This was not the land of the living, neither the land of the dead. This was a void, the land of the between.

A giant valley…

Of nothingness.

Sam POV

She will become an empty shell, a person without feelings. The world would pass by, and soon, there would be nothing. She would not laugh, will not cry, and will not sympathies. She was a shell, left over carcass of a girl named Samantha Puckett.

There was only one way to stop everything, to stop hurting and that was too stop feeling. Her emotions were the bane of her existence.

"Die," her mother had told her.

She would die; become a shell, a lost broken cocoon the butterfly had abandoned. She would become that shell, swaying in the wind, through the days that pass…it would stay, empty.

They had been fighting for two days, since Sam broke her ankle.

Violently indeed…and then it happened.

Mark stood before Sam, a chair in his grip, held up high above his head. Below him was her mother, silent and still, blood leaking from her head. She wasn't moving, the blonde headed lady wasn't moving at all. Mark lowered the chair, a small nervous smile appearing on his lips.

"Oh…Oh my," he whispered, panting.

He had gone too far and Sam knew; he knew it. "Sam, this is not what it looks like," he told her, explaining his thoughts, his facts jumbled up. All Sam saw were his lips, his fat ugly rough lips moving up and down, speaking lies that she already knew.

"I didn't do this Sam," he whispered, "I didn't hit her…I didn't do anything, I will never do anything to hurt you…your mother tripped Sam, she tripped and hit her head…"

"She's dead isn't she?" Sam told the man. The lips closed, shut tight, taunt with tension.

"No, she's not," he said, "NO NO NO!" he shouted.

The lips were opening and closing, making wide movements, like a fish, a fish desperately trying to breathe on dry land.

Sam's ankle throbs, the wound on her shoulder had re-opened and it was now bleeding through the bandage. Her mom's injured, battered and bruise body lay before her.

"Die," she had whispered.

Sam closes her eyes.

"Die," she had whispered.

"You killed her, Mark," Sam whispered, "You killed her."

"I told you I did not!" Mark shouted, lunging forward, taking Sam by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall. Sam felt her more blood leaking away from her wounded shoulder. Somehow…she felt no pain.

"Problem is, you did," Sam whispered.

He yelped when he saw her blood staining his hand that was touching her wounded shoulder. He released her falling backwards. Sam stared him down, her head cocked up high, her eyes lifeless. "You killed her," she whispered.

Mark begun to shiver, his eyes got bigger, wilder. A smile appeared on his lips and he began to laugh, clutching his face as he did so, smearing the blood on his face. He lunges at Sam again, this time knocking her into the kitchen counter.

His hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing tight. Sam didn't even flinch. Death was approaching and yet she could feel nothing…rather she was relieved.

Very relieved.

"Die," she whispered.

Suddenly Mark gave a startled cry, he released Sam and she fell to the floor with a thump. Sam turned slowly and found the man on the ground, a knife sticking out from his chest. Blood spurted out from it in large amounts, staining the floor, splashing on Sam's face.

"Don't you ever touch my baby!" Sam's mother shouted. She stood above the man, clutching her injured bleeding head. Her hands holding onto the knife that was sticking from Mark's chest. The man choked and spat out blood, coughing.

"I'll kill ya!" her mother screamed, taking out the knife and plunging it into the man for the second time, then the third, than the fourth…over and over and over.

She will become an empty shell. She will not feel anything. Nothing.

Carly POV

Her heart broke. It was too much for her to handle. Spencer had been beside her the whole time, comforting her, telling her everything would be alright.

"It'll be ok, baby sis, Sam would be alright," he told her, patting her back. Hugging her when he needed too. Carly knew that he was just trying to be nice, a good old brother…but nothing he did was going to fix this, fix the pain in her heart.

She should have realized something was wrong. Sam's family situation wasn't too pretty to begin with. She should have realized that numerous bruises and scars Sam had. How Sam sometimes seems so sad…so desperate…

How Sam might act tough on the outside but was actually so vulnerable…so vulnerable.

Carly could…should have helped her, but she had done nothing. She had done nothing for Sam. She did not know what to say…she did not know what she should do. When Sam needed her most, Carly felt so hopeless.

What should she say? What should she do? What must she say? What must she do?

Sam was hurt, Sam is hurting, and Sam has always been hurting.

Carly didn't do anything; Carly pretended nothing was wrong, Carly refuses to believe that something was wrong.

Carly clutches her hand tightly, fiddling with it as they waited outside the operation rooms. The clock on the wall ticked by, time passed, Spencer hugged her tighter.

"Carly!" a voice shouted her name. Carly turned and found Freddie and his mom rushing through the hospital doors.

"How is Sam?" he exclaimed. Carly gulped, the lump in her throat breaking down, tears poured from her eyes and she started to cry. She gripped onto Freddie as she did so, hugging him and he hugged her back. "Be strong," he told her, "Sam needs us now…we knew nothing about this…we couldn't have done anything, but she needs us now."

Carly nodded, wiping away her tears. Freddie gave her a weak smile and Sam realized that he was worried, really worried. Mrs. Benson, who was behind him, gave his shoulder a light squeeze. Carly felt her heart beat quicken when she saw the doctor coming out of the operation room.

"How is she doctor?" Spencer asked the old man, who smiled.

"She's going to heal just fine," he said, "You may visit her now."

Mrs. Benson heaved a sigh of relief, Carly gulped.

How should she react?

What should she say?

"Come on, Carly," Freddie told her, pushing her into the room. He followed after her. Carly swallowed her spit and wiped her eyes. She turned and found Sam seated on a white cloth bed.

"Sam," Carly shouted, running over to the girl. The girl turned…and stared back at her.

Carly tensed, her voice drying up.

What should she say? What should she do? What…what exactly…

What exactly…

How should she treat Sam?

She didn't know anymore.

Freddie POV

"Are you alright?"

Freddie asked Sam, when Carly did not answer Sam's greeting. Carly was all tensed up…like she was meeting a strange person for the first time. Freddie frowned. Why was Carly acting this way?

"Yeah," Sam answered, looking at Carly. A tensed silence ensues before Freddie couldn't take it anymore.

"Carly, just hug Sam!" he shouted at the girl who was standing beside him. Before he could react, Carly broke into tears and begun to sob, real bad.

"Carly?" Freddie and Spencer whispered. Mrs. Benson sighed and took Carly by her arm, dragging the girl out of the room. When they left, the tensed silence in the room thickens. Sam whom had been staring at Carly a second ago was now staring at both Spencer and him.

Freddie gulped.

Sam's once, clear blue aggressive eyes seem to have lost their vibrancy. They were now glassy…lifeless…like a black hole sucking every ounce of light in.

"I…I'll go check on Carly," Spencer said and he left. Freddie stayed, watching Sam as she stared at him.

"Aren't you going to leave?" she asked him. Freddie smirked, "And why should I?" he asked.

The girl shrugged, before laying back into bed. Freddie continued to look at the girl, her frail thin arms, her pale long legs, her blonde curly long hair and her sharp thin face…her lifeless eyes.

This was Sam Puckett, the girl who was constantly giving him mental and physical pain, the girl whom he loves.

Sure, she was different, sure she looked like a doll now…a lifeless doll without a soul…but she was still Sam.

Freddie sighed, "I'm going to get some water," he said and left the room.

He found Spencer comforting Carly and his mother petting the girl. Freddie's hands clenched into fists.

Sam was still Sam.

Why can't Carly or Spencer understand that? Somehow, it made Freddie angry and suddenly he was furious with everybody around him. Furious with Sam, furious with Carly, furious with Spencer, furious with Sam's mom, and most of all, furious with himself.

"Why didn't I notice," He told himself, "Why didn't I see through her lies?"

"Enough," he told Carly who was crying, "She needs us now! We're the only ones left…you get it! Sam is still Sam!"

Spencer's eyes widen and Carly ceases to sob. With new found energy, Freddie entered the ward and confronted Sam.

"Why didn't you tell me anything!" he told her.

There was a deep bellowing silence then…

"You know he hit my mom eight times," Sam's voice sounded suddenly. It was sad…almost lonely. Freddie's furious emotions vanished and he turned to look at Sam, whose face was now turned away from his. "And she stabbed him exactly eight times…killing him."

"She raised her arm, her hands clutched tightly around the knife. She raised it and she stabbed. And she did it again because she couldn't stop. And again, caused she loved it. And again because she hated him. And again because she felt like it. And again because she wanted to die. And again because she wanted him to die. And again because it was very fun," Sam said. "8 times, Fredwart."

"She said she did it to protect me," Sam whispered.

She turned to face Freddie and he gulped. Her eyes so blank…so lifeless…so bland.

"Then she told me to die," she whispered.

She looked at him, stared at his eyes…waiting…waiting for him to look away. Freddie tensed. She was waiting for him to look away! She was confirming something. She was trying out something. She was staring at him, not because she was sad…no…she wasn't staring at him because she was suffering.

She was waiting…waiting for him to look away.

"She told me to die," she had whispered.

Freddie's gaze hardened and then he reached out and gripped Sam's hands. He grips them tight, grip them so tight that he was afraid that he might have hurt her.

"Then you might as well rebel," he said. "You might as well live!"

Sam POV

The stinking little dweeb was messing with her head. He was messing with it big time. Her emotions were flooding back in. Just when she thought she had succeeded in locking up her feelings, this big nub came in and ruined it…big time.

The pain, the anguish, the hurt…but most of all anger…came rushing in at once.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted at him. Her voice loud. She saw him flinch, then saw him smiling.

"Sam, your back!" he exclaimed. Sam trembled. His kind face, his voice, his warm touch…it was killing her.

"Leave me alone," she muttered.

She couldn't take this.

She wanted to die. Why can't they have just left her alone?

"It's all going to be alright, Sam," Freddie said.

"It's not!" Sam screamed, "Leave me alone!"

"It will be…look," he told her. Sam looked up and found Carly by the door. The brown headed girl ran towards Sam and gave Sam a tight hug. A hug so tight that it threatened to choke Sam.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Carly sobbed. "We're going to help you through this…I promise."

Sam trembled, this was all too much…this was just too much.

She was suffocating…her eyes were hot. She found Freddie smiling…and she knew what she had to do.

"WHAT THET HELL SAM!" he screamed, clutching his bruised cheeks. Sam's fists were smarting, Carly gasped.

"Why did you punch me!" he shouted.

"Shut up, shut up!" Sam said, "Go away, leave me alone, GO AWAY!"

"KEEP QUIET!" the nurse from outside shouted.

"What happened we heard screaming," Spencer and Mrs. Benson exclaimed, sticking their heads into the ward.

"Just leave me alone, please," Sam whispered, tears leaking from her eyes, "Just leave me alone…I beg you…all of you."

"The more you stay…the more it hurts."

"Carly," Sam heard Freddie call Carly's name. She looked up and felt two fists connecting to her cheeks.

"Live with it," they said together.

"We're always going to be here, whether you like it or not."

It was described as a thick gray line. In between, the land of the light and the land of darkness. It was said that people who were stuck here had nothing.

However, that was untrue.

The people who were stuck here had everything. There was nothing in the gray line and yet they were closest to both the darkness and the light.

Like an empty sponge, they absorb the knowledge of light and darkness subconsciously.

So even though, the people of the in between were empty, they have tasted both of the worlds…and just maybe…

Everything would be alright.

Well…tell me if you understood this chapter…I have no idea how to phrase my thoughts into words. In my head, these phrases seem to be perfect, once I write them out…they become jumbled up words that make no sense.

And well, thanks for all ya reviews :D