Miss Anderson was certainly not at all like the social workers Sam met before. She always spoke to Sam about normal things, such as what's been on television, sport, the weather. Never talked about topics that made Sam uncomfortable.
"Miss Anderson." Sam called, following the woman's shadow. They were in the prison's library. And Miss Anderson was leaving for the day.
"You forgot your watch, Miss. You left it on my desk when we were playing with the water guns." Miss Anderson smiled turning, "You can have it Sam." Sam looked down at the silver watch, it looked expensive, "Are you sure, no, you have it back, Miss, it IS yours."
"You don't have to call me Miss, Sam. Call me Penny. Friends give presents to friends, Sam. Have it."
And for a while, Sam was happy. Almost as happy when she had Carly and Freddie by her side. They never had a dull conversation. Sam would play card games with her, typically Sam won every time. When Penny visited, she always brought a home baked muffins or cupcakes for Sam. Sam could tell her anything. She was the mother Sam never had. Every call Sam made, Penny always came the day after. With a happy sparkle in her eyes, and a wide kind smile.
"Miss- I mean Penny?" Sam shuffled embarrassed on the spot. Her eyes glued to the floor.
"Yeah?" Miss Anderson looked up from a book she was reading.
"I have a present for you. Well, I guess it's not really a present… I wish I could get you a present, a real present…" Sam looked up at the grey walls. Penny felt her heart sting to see the sad expression on her face. Sam turned back to her. "Would you like to watch my tap dance?"
So Penny watched the blond tap dance.
Very slowly the smile thinned and the sparkle faded from Penny's face. During her last visits she always looked tired, and her skin looked ten years older.
"Sam." She said warmly, after Sam slapped a card on the table, shouting 'SNAP!'
"Yeah?" Sam smiled, Miss Anderson placed her hand on hers.
"I have to stop visiting you." She said gently, her voice breaking. Sam's smile fell.
"What? Why?" She began to panic, getting up from her chair. It's happening again. Her father left, Melanie left, Carly left, Freddie left and now Miss Anderson.
"Sam. Sit down and let me explain." she ordered, Sam obeyed. "I… I don't know how to tell you this. And when I do tell you. I want you to understand. Don't start another riot because of what's going to happen to me." She paused reaching out to Sam's hands and holding them comfortingly.
"Sam, I have cancer."
Sam pulled out the hot tray of roast potatoes. She placed them on a large white plate, along with a leg of chicken and vegetables. Her mind was still spinning, she met Freddie after ten long years. Painful years. She wished she could have spent an hour or so with him, but she known. He would get angry. And if he was to ever find out about Freddie, Sam as might as well start writing her will. There a bang from the door, indicating Greg has entered the building. Sam quickly pulled the hot plate from the stove and onto the table, along with a knife and fork. Sam stood obediently beside the table, like a pupil waiting to be dismissed. He stalked passed and slumped into his chair.
"Good day at work?" She asked brightly, he didn't answer. His grey eyes were locked on the white plate.
"Vegetables." he mumbled. Sam's smile dropt, a tidal wave of fear washed through her body.
"We haven't got any fries left… and I thought you should eat a bit more healthy…" Sam muttered, his head snapped up. Sam shut her mouth. He didn't like it when she talked back.
"Dammit, woman, I wanted a proper meal… and this…" he picked up the plate and thrown it towards Sam, she managed to narrowly miss the plate. Instead it hit the wall behind her.
Sam kept her scream wrapped up inside. She opened her mouth to speak, "I'm sorry, hun. I'll go and get yo-" he swiftly cut her off,
"It's too late, I don't want anymore shit from you." He rose from his chair. His face grim, his silver eyes cold. For a moment, she thought he was going to 'teach her a lesson'. Sam felt relief flood through her to see him walk pass and back through the door he came out of.
Freddie sat in the hotel room, flicking channels on his small crackling television. He looked up at the time, counting down the hours till Sam's garage will open. He tried to find an interest in the public channels, but found no spark of curiousity in the programmes. Impatience overpowered him. He jumped off his bed and out of the door.
"Hey." Sam greeted, she kneeled down to fit a cheap bunch of flowers in the holder, it was the only flowers she could afford. "I've finally got my life back together. Taking over my Auntie's car business. I've always liked cars and stuff, so I'm giving it a go." She paused, as if waiting for an answer. She let out a sigh, "I'm renaming it, though. Calling it "Sam's Motors" sounds catchy, doesn't it?" she smiled softly, her blue eyes looking down at the grave.
"I'm sorry that you're not here to see it, Penny." She glided her eyes up to the sky, "I wonder what heaven's like, I'm sure you're much happier now there. Not in pain anymore…" she trailed off, her voice shaking. "I miss you so much." She managed to choke out, before breaking into tears.
Sam brushed up Greg's dinner, occasionally cutting herself with the broken pieces of plate. She felt tears slide down her cheek. She known exactly where Greg had gone. Perhaps to a stripers-joint or some bar to fuel himself with alcohol and return back with the scent of sex fresh on his skin. She hated him. She feared him. But she did not loved him. Not anymore. He was abusive, cruel, and unpredictable. Sam wished she could escape from him. Perhaps once, she could have ran away. But not anymore. One thing tied Sam to him forever. She felt a whimper escape from her mouth, horrified by the secrete she kept from him. From everyone. There was a large piece of broken plate, she picked it up and pointed it towards her stomach. She closed her eyes, readying for the stab. A knock on the door caused her to drop the broken piece. Sam wiped her tears away and stood up. She ran to the door and opened it.
"Hi, Sam." Freddie beamed through the cracks of the door. Sam steadied her voice before speaking.
"What do you want?" she sighed, opening so that he could only see her face and not her blood covered hands.
"I'm wondering if we could talk." he said slowly, Sam rolled her eyes.
"Not now, Benson. I-" she paused. Her boyfriend was gone. But what terrified her even more than him was herself. And the lengths she would go to kill herself along with her secrete. "Alright then, but my place is a mess right now, so forgive me."
Freddie pulled a face, "Like that's new, Sam." Sam widened the door to let him in. She placed her hands in her pockets and directed him to the sofa.
"Not bad." Freddie commented, looking around at the living room. Sam lifted an eyebrow.
"No need to be nice, Freddie. You don't need manners when you're with me." she leaned back into her chair. "Right, what do you want to talk about?"
Freddie leaned forward, his face serious, "The rampage you started nine years ago." Sam let out a nervous laugh, "Which one?"
"You know which one I'm on about."
Sam gulped, looking away from her childhood friend, "I was drunk and drugged and god knows what else- I don't know why I did it." Sam snapped her eyes back to him.
"I have a question for you, Freddie." Sam said solemnly. Fred straightened up on the sofa.
"Did you ever… thought of me, while you were gone… or during the pass ten years?" She shuffled uncomfortably on her chair. Freddie felt his cheeks burn.
"Well… yeah, all the time when I worked with Carly. I always thought of what you were up to." he changed the subject, "So. This boyfriend of yours." he used the same wooden tone back at the garage.
Sam abruptly stood up, "You want a drink? Food? We got loads of chicken wings. Lots and lots." She moved quickly to the kitchen. Before Freddie could answer, she was gone.