I know, I know, I too way to long to update. I'm sorry! Forgiveness please! Hopefully this chapter will make it up to you!
Disclaimer- I don't own anything but my own characters and plot. I wish i owned Sammy.. damn...we'd have fun. JK LOL
Oh and thanks to all who reviewed! You are my loverlies!!!
Chapter 3
Sam sat silently in his room, his mind racing with thoughts of escape. The only sound that could be heard was a soft sniffling that came from the small form sitting next to him, Jordon. Sam snapped out his dazed and looked down to her, this tingling feeling erupting from the pit of his stomach and he had the sudden urge to protect this girl no matter the consequences. He wondered if Dean felt this way whenever he himself was in danger. He once again looked down to the small figure who had curled herself up to the side of Sam's lanky, still growing, fourteen year old body. He was overcome with this urge to find out more about her.
"Hey…ah..Jordon." Sam sputtered breaking the silence.
Jordon's head shot off Sam's arm like he was on fire. "Yeah?" She replied timidly.
"Um…" Sam paused thinking of a easy way to put ask the question that was in his mind, "I was just wondering, you don't have to answer me if you don't want to but I was just wondering how long you've been her…and …." Sam stopped, to afraid for this young girl to hear the answer that he doesn't want to hear.
Jordon looked at him seriously, her eyes a bright blue held such maturity, such hurt that Sam had to swallow down the lump the quickly formed in his throat. "You want to know if they hit me, don't you?"
Sam couldn't answer, so he simply nodded.
"Yeah, they've hit me. Not recently though. I've been a good girl and done everything right." She replied quietly.
"How long have you been here?"
"Well, I was taken away from my mother when I was 5, cause the neighbors saw me alone one day. The police came and found that my mother was away on a business trip and that my babysitter left me there by myself. She fought to get me back and she won but then…one night….she..she.." Sam saw the tears before they fell from Jordon's eyes.
"She what…." Sam prompted. Taking Jordon in his arms just like Dean did when he was younger and upset.
"She was killed, by something ugly and meant that came out of my closet. The police said that it was the murder in the area that did it but they wouldn't listen to me! It was the thing from my closet. And because I didn't have no grandparents and stuff, I came here." She hufed out, her eyes darting around the room to the door to make sure that Carl wasn't there to witness her outbreak. "Carl and Pauline took me in after as a foster child then, after they told me the rules and got through to me that bad equals hitting, I was a good girl and they decided to keep me as a child. I tried to run away the night after they filed the papers but Carl found me a hit me really hard and…and…." Jordon couldn't continue, she wedged herself into Sam's shoulder and cried harder.
"Sh, it's okay now. I won't let anything happened to you while I'm around," Sam said, quoting his brother his own eyes welling up, "I promise."
Sam could feel the slight nod of Jordon's head, when a nasally scream echoed up thorugh that hallways out side of the room that they were sitting in.
"Darlings!" the fake voice called. "Diner is ready, wash up."
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Diner was uneventful, Sam neatly sat in front of the table with Jordon on his right and Pauline on his left. There wasn't any conversation unless Carl started it first. Which was rare and closer to none.
After diner Sam and Jordon were sent up to their rooms to get ready for bed even thought it was only 8o'clock at night. Sam sat in his room, dressed fully in the slight to small clothes that the Child Services provided him seen as how he wasn't allow to go near the motel that his family was currently occupying.
Sam's mind racing, he couldn't for the life of him think of a way out of this problem. After 14 years of constant quick thinking under the eye of his father, Samuel Winchester was drawing up a blank. He couldn't get out the house without the damn recorder signaling Carl and getting him caught. Sam, during his life span wasn't afraid of much due to what his family did and the protection that Dean gave him, but with Carl giving those threats and Dean not here to help him, Sam was terrified.
Sam, after sitting on the edge of his bed for what seem to hours, looked over to the clock and realized that it had only been half an hour since he was sent up to bed. What am I suppose to do for 2 hours? I'm not used to going to bed this early. Normally I'm on hunts with Dad and dean hunting. Pacing around the room now, Sam was stumped. It wasn't like he had any schoolwork seen as how he was being sent to a new school in the morning, nor did he have any of the chores that his father normally left behind while he and Dean were on a hunt. After pacing the room at least four times a thought sparked Sam's attention. How did I get here? I mean, I remember going to bed on Wednesday night, then getting up to go school but I can't remember anything after that. I wonder what the hell happened overnight.
Sam continued to pace as he wracked his brain for any memories of Thursday when he hear thunderous footsteps coming up the stair. He stopped in his tracks, crap if that's Carl coming to see me then I am screwed I'm pretty sure when he said bedtime he meant for me to hit the sack then, not an hour later. Sam using the skills attained under the watchful ey e of his father, stealthily inched back to his bed, listening for the approaching footsteps which seem to have stopped in front of Jordon's door down the way. Shit! He is doing bed checks. Sam panicked upon hearing the steps begin to move again. Throwing himself upon the bed, like the many times he did when he was a child staying up past his bedtime to make sure his brother and father came home from a hunt unscathed. Forging sleep, the door wretched open, a darkening shape outlining Sam's closed eyes.
After a few minutes Sam figure he was out of the danger when a larger paw-like hand grasped his pajama's front, tearing him from under the covers of the bed. Eyes shooting open Sam cam face to face with Carl, who had a snarl smeared on his face.
"So, ya think ya can pretend to be asleep huh?" He spat, Sam cringing at the smell of whiskey on his breath, "'think that I haven't heard you movin' aroun' up here …hic… for the last hour, thinking; up som'kinda' plan to escape? HUH boy!" Carl slurred.
"No sir, I just couldn't sleep, I figure that moving around might tire me out?"
"Righ' like I'm gunna believe the shit...hic... that comes' outta yo' mouth." Sam, still in the grasp of Carl was suddenly thrown across the bedroom, His back colliding with a dresser, causing a small yelp to fall from Sam's lips. " yo' best shut your mouth boy befo' I get angry." Carl stumbled to were Sam lay on the floor, a look of pure hatred on his face. "Soon, you shithea' you'll be gone and ...hic...everythin' will b' righ'again," Carl stated, kicking Sam in the ribs, forcing the air from his lungs.
What is he talking about? Sam thought to himself curling his body in order to protect is stomach from the vicious kicks. Is he planning to kill me? I haven't done anything wrong except stay up past curfew? Does that merit me a death warrant. sam could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes as Carl continued to hit Sam
Sam could feel the darkness edging around his vision, cutting him off from any conscious thought, last thing Sam could think of was Dean..help. Before he gave into the darkness.
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Sam woke with a start in the morning, his body protesting the crumpled position he was laying in for the past hours. Slowly Sam struggled to push himself to his feet, the familiar ache of bruises on his back. Once fully uprigh, Sam aso felt the familiar twinge of a broken or crakced rib. Shit thats all I need, i fucking broken rib.
Sam glanced at the clock. 6:32. I've been out for the last 9 and some hours…shit. He went over to the window and peered out. Carl was walking toward the shed that sat in the middle of his back yard, stumbling over the branches that littered the floor. This was his chance, he could get to the phone without Carl knowing, call Dean and his dad and tell them to come break him out. But as soon as the command went from Sam's brain to his limbs, Sam couldn't move, he was terrified. What if Carl did find out that he called his family, he would be dead within the hour.
By the time Sam convinced himself to take the risk to call Dean, Carl was on the way back from the shed. Sam sighed, he'd have to think up a escape route at school, it was his only chance.
Sam again heard the thunderous steps of Carl coming up the stair case. Sam heart began to race.
TBC
I'm sorry, i don't mean to leave it as a cliffy but i've been stuck on this on part, I know where i want the story to go, i just have to figure out how to get it there
Remember my math, the more reviews. the faster i work.
the next chapter should be up in the nxt dew weeks. I just have to get over this one little bump and the words will flow!
Thanks
