Sam rolled out from beneath her finished car. The gears were fixed and now in great condition, she raised up and brushed her greasy hands against her dungarees. Looking proudly down at the newly fixed car, she thrown her cloth on the bonnet and whistled while she packed up her equipment. Judging from the light outside, she had another hour left until Greg comes back from work. She shuddered, hope he's in a good mood, she thought to herself. After putting her work equipment away, Sam moved to the front of the garage, pulling down the shutters and locking the garage for the day.
"Wait!" A voice called out from behind her. Sam didn't turn round, "Look, I'm finished for the day, pal. Come back tomorrow." she grunted, she stuffed her keys in her dungaree pockets.
"No, please, I have a client who needs to-" it was a deep voice, yet it sounded 'wimpy' to Sam. She turned round to see a man in a business suit pushing his Mercedes. His black tie was crooked and his once combed back hair swung messily by the sides of his red face. Sam hated business men. They reminded Sam of her old friends. Just like businessmen, they were snobs, they were rich and they were certainly not the people Sam known when they were children.
"That's the end of iCarly!" Carly smiled sadly into the camera, Sam wrapped her arm around Carly's shoulder. "Thank you for watching our web show throughout the years. Goodbye." Sam felt her guts tighten as she said 'goodbye'. Not only it was goodbye to the fans, it was goodbye to her friends. Freddie was off to college, Carly had a role in a new movie, and both of them had no intention of coming back. As Freddie stopped rolling, the two girls embraced each other. Freddie joined in with the hug.
"Lets make a promise, that we will stay in touch." Carly's eyes began to water, the other two teenagers nodded. So the three of them made a promise. That they will never change, never fall out, never forget.
It has been three years since their promise, and Sam tried countless times to contact her friends.
Carly never answers her phone. As Sam began to think that she changed her number, the phone answered.
"This is Carly Shay's phone." a stranger's voice answered, Sam frowned.
She sat crossed legged on her favourite chair, which was practically falling apart with large chunks missing from the corners. She usually sat in the dark, it made her feel calmer somehow in the gloom of her living room. Most of the time, Sam spent her days alone, walking around the park, sometimes visiting Spencer, except it was too painful for Sam, so very rarely visited him.
"Who are you?" she asked, the woman's answered with a thick London accent, "Her agent, who are you?" Sam leaned over to the phone, "I'm Sam, Carly's best friend."
"If you like to speak with Miss Shay, you are wasting your time. She is a busy young woman and do not nee-" Sam hung up. Next she tried Freddie, thankfully he answered, "Hello?"
"Freddie!" Sam felt relief flood through her, "How have you been? Gotten into any trouble yet in college? Why hav-" Freddie cut her off.
"Sorry, Sam, I have to get to class, call me another time. Actually, I'll call you." He hung up. Sam listened to the endless sound of the phone for a few minutes, staring into space. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she hugged the phone for absent comfort.
Sam felt disturbed by remembering the forgotten memories of her childhood friends. She glared at the smartly dressed man. Hating every bit of him for relighting her painful memories.
"I don't care!" Sam snapped, "I've had a hard day, there's only me that work here, and I can not simply fix your car by the click of your fingers, Brickhead!" She threw in the insult randomly, just like she did as a child.
The man stopped pushing his car, walking towards Sam, "I need this client, please, please, I'll pay you double the price." Sam raised her eyebrows, there was something familiar about his voice to Sam.
"Triple it." She said to the man, he sighed, looking hesitantly to his car.
"Deal." He rubbed his head worriedly, Sam grinned.
"When will it be finished?" he asked, Sam strode past him, having a good look at his black car. The engine was steaming, the tyres were flat and it badly needed a wash. She let out a sigh, "Your engine has overheated and you need two new tyres." The man groaned in response. Sam looked up to the man, finally registering his features, sleak hair, square head, sparkling brown eyes and a anxious expression. No, no. She thought, shaking the thought away. I'm getting too caught up with my memories. The man was now pulling out his phone, dialing a number, "What's the name of this place, anyway?" Sam bit her lip, urging to break his phone.
"Sam's motors." She said dryly, he stopped dialing. His eyes darted to her face, "Sam? Are you Sam?"
Sam let out another impatient sigh, "Yes. Duh, I've named this place after me. Sam."
A smile grew on his face, a smile that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Oh no, he works for the cops. Shit. He's here to arrest me. Sam took a step back, getting ready to break into a run.
He didn't seem to notice Sam's discomfort, "Sam Puckett? Are you Sam Puckett?"
Sam's eyes narrowed suspiciously, he seemed too quirky to be working for the police. And didn't look very threatening. She let a few seconds to pass before she answered, "Yes, do I know you?"
"It's me, Freddie! Freddie Bens-" before he could finish his sentence, Sam sent a punch flying directly into his jaw.
Sam had no one, no one to control her anymore, no one to stop her. So she went wild. She walked the dark streets of Seattle with her baseball bat hanging over her shoulder and her bottle of alcohol in the other. Breaking windows of parked cars, setting fire to the bins, destroying everything in her path. Because, if she was to break, everything else shall break with her. It was midnight and many people were sleeping, yet a few passing civilians screamed as they saw Sam wrecking everything in the street. She worn an vacant expression, not hearing the cries of tourists or the shouts of people flooding out of their homes or the shrieking of police sirens. She took another swig of alcohol, numbing her senses as she reached out to hold the broken class of a car. It hurt her, of course, but she didn't mind. The back window of the car was still intact, in the refection was a blond teenager. With droopy tired eyes and worn the most sadess expression Sam had ever seen. Sam raised her bat,"Let's tu-u-urn that frown upside down." Sam chuckled humourlessly and smashed her refection. Why did she destroy everything? Many people who saw her that night didn't know. Sam known. It was because she didn't care. No one cared for her. No. One. Cared. So why should she care? The police snatched the baseball bat away from her and thrown her into the car.
Freddie felt his head wrench back as her fist made contact with his jaw, he lost his balance and landed painfully on his back.
"Benson." Sam rubbed her knuckles, "Yeah, I remember you."