A\N: Here we go again :) We have finally returned and we have brought with us chapter two.
DISCLAIMER: I wished I owned iCarly but I don't (randomness 101-Fanfic Freak doesn't either *sigh*)
Unknown POV
She was dreaming that kind of dream again. You know the kind- the kind that you can't wish yourself awake from. Sam basically lives that kind of dream; hers is a nightmare, a never-ending nightmare. It's the kind of dream you have when you are in a deep sleep. Where the dream state becomes real. A dream becomes your own reality. Have you ever had a nightmare like that? A nightmare you can't wake up from?
Dreams are Sam's curse. They taunt and tease her. Make her believe and give her hope. In dreams her imagination gives her the illusion that she can do more than feel, taste, smell, and hear the world. It forms shapes, puts faces, colors, sunlight, and names back together again like a crude puzzle. Makes her feel human again-not like a diseased, blind, childish fool. Then that's when the nightmare begins to take shape…Suddenly it is dark and an uncomfortable kind of quiet. The bright lights, fake smiles, and even the faces have faded away. You can hear the leaves rustling, wind howling and cars rushing past in the street…the street is dark, lit only slightly by the dim lighting coming from the ramshackle apartments that only stay in business thanks to the prostitution and drug trafficking than run out of them. A young girl with unruly blond curly hair stands with her back to you sobbing. She looks down at her watch- at those neon green numbers as a tear runs down her face.
I look at my watch and see the green numbers staring back at me. 9:33 Pm. Why is that time so familiar? Doesn't matter, I will remember later- always do. That's when I notice I am crying, crying hysterically and shaking as if I was falling apart- like someone ripped my heart out for a reason I can't seem to recollect. Puckett's don't cry, they just don't. It's then that I remember; when everything come flooding back. The reason I am crying hysterically while walking home through one of the worst parts of Seattle in the middle of the night.
Him…
The girl has stopped moving but continues to cry. You want to yell out to her for her to move but you can't speak. What is about to happen is history. It is set in stone. Nothing can change the past. Nothing can change fate.
You hear the men that come around the corner. The strange masked men that have guns and orders to do more than scare a Miss Samantha Puckett; the niece to Mr. Carmine Puckett- the guy they want to warn.
"That her?" One whispers to the other
"Sure is; a mighty pretty one at that." He replies
"Want to do the honors?"
BANG!
The last things she will remember about that night is that sound- the horrid sound of the gun going off, pain, and pure darkness. Little did she know that the darkness was there to stay...
Sam's POV
I woke up screaming at the top of my lungs completely drenched in sweat, hands clutching onto the bed for dear life breathing heavily. Just like I have woken up the same way every single night since the accident. I opened my eyes. Though, it didn't make a difference. There was still darkness. Sheer darkness that haunted me everywhere. Literally. I was blind, and the scariest part of it is that it didn't happen on accident. Someone did this on purpose. I just know it.
I get out of bed and head for Freddie's room not bothering to use my walking stick knowing he wasn't going to be home to yell at me. He barely is anymore. It seems that Freddie lives at work; that he can't stand to be around me anymore. God I miss the way everything was before. Nothing seems to be normal and sane for me anymore, not that it was before, but I yearn for the past. Who could possibly have known I would have wished for my reckless unstable life? Not me.
Feeling my way out of my room I amble stumbling the entire time. It's right across the hall, not hard to find but it doesn't make the distance any easier. Once I found the doorknob I turned it and heard something I didn't expect coming from within.
A snoring Freddie. Wow that sound brought back memories; yes I am talking about snoring. Years ago before the accident I used to spend nights at Freddie's when Carly was out of town, my mom had her newest boy over, or I just needed a night away from the rest of the world- to spend time with my dork.
At one point I use to sleep on the pull out couch in the Benson's living room wearing one of Freddie's tee shirts and a pair of his boxers (yes boxers I was surprised too).
That first night I spent there is imprinted in my memory-how Freddie stood up to his mom fighting for me and got her to let me stay with him. Every time I think about it I get a goofy smile on face and when I realize I am smiling like that I punch the next dork I see.
At the time, the way she acted confused me. I remember how she didn't put up much of a fight.
Eventually over time she started expecting me to come over after school and possibly spend the night. Mrs. Benson started to buy me ham, Peppy-Cola and Fatcakes when she went shopping-not protesting at all. She even started to purchase my shampoo and conditioner when she went to the drugstore down the street.
The Benson's transformed into my second home, when I wasn't at Carly's I was at Freddie's apartment. She no longer saw me as that girl that hurt her son but as Freddie's best friend that he later asked to be his girlfriend. Mrs. B wasn't the least bit surprised when we got our own place together senior year. Everything that she did for me still makes very little sense. It was as if she thought we were going to get together from the beginning.
Slowly opening the door to Freddie's room I remembered what went through my mind and what Freddie looked like that first night I spent with the Bensons when I snuck into his room.
FLASHBACK
It was cold. I do remember that. I was barefoot on the icy wooden floor of the apartment having a staring contest with the closed wooden door.
Carly had, at one point, told me about Marissa's insane pass-code you had to enter into this alarm system from the inside in order to open the door.
It didn't have me worried at all though because Freddie had explained to me that he had reprogrammed the alarm system so it was turned off at night. Freddie went on a rant about it one of the times I made fun of him for letting his mom control him. Let's just say it was an interesting argument that he won for once. If I were in his place I would do the same thing though, no joke. Who wants to try to put in that code correctly if you want to go and get a midnight snack when you are half asleep?
So it wasn't that I couldn't open the door, it was that I wasn't positive I wanted to. His room is his room for a reason and he was fast asleep. Plus, he looks cute when he is asleep; going soft has nothing to with me having mixed feelings.
Part of me said I should go back to the couch, freeze and not wake Freddie- the other part of me filled my head with thoughts of warmth and the safety of Freddie's arms. You can guess what side won that conversation, I bet you guessed correctly.
Slowly I opened the door and stared into the room. He was curled up in his blankets, sleeping like a baby.
END FLASHBACK
I wonder if he looks like that right now. Or if he is lying on his side hugging a pillow knees brought up to his chest pretending that pillow is me. It was moments like this that I missed my sight the most. Every night I slept in the same bed as Freddie I felt at ease. He would wrap his arms around my waist without a word- my arms and body would get pressed up against his chest as he lay on his side. I would fall asleep in seconds to the pounding of his heart.
But that soon turned into him sleeping in the chair next to my hospital bed every night.
We'd decided to break things off after the 'accident.' He insisted I didn't need the extra stress and, since I didn't know the makeup of our shared apartment that well, I should move in with Carly and Spencer.
And since then he's been so protective. He's let me take care of myself but the second I need help he's there. And sometimes I wish he was there more often. But no, he's off finding the person who blinded me. Not staying with me, helping me feel better. He's finding the person who plagued me with sadness.
But the reason for my sadness isn't my loss of sight; it's my loss of the real Freddie.
And even though he thinks he's looking for my blinder, he's really looking for himself. I just know it.
Fin.
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