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Sam's POV

It was kind of strange, the song sort of explained us. Me being in sorrow and pain and having to much pride but not exactly much borrowing. And Freddie was the one I can always lean on. He's always there for me. But I'm never there for him. What's wrong with me.

"Sam?" "Yes?" "I again don't mean to barge in, but you seem to be telling me a lot, so would you mind if I asked you some questions?" He asked nervously. He sounded like a reporter. I would usually of just hit him or hurt him somehow, but I needed to start thanking him for all he's done for me. "Go ahead."

"Well , I, I'll just ask them all. Why are you always being mean to people, why are you always eating, why do you enjoy sleeping, why do you always hurt me?" That isn't to many. I could answer all but the last.

"I'm always eating, because it fills the empty hole in me, usually, and ham was my dad's favorite food. After my dad died, I barely ate any meat, because my dad liked it so much, I didn't want anything to remind me. After a while the doctor said I needed meat. So that's when that happened. I always enjot sleeping, because I can dream of my family as a whole again, happy like we used to be." "And I'm mean to people, because, I guess I learned from my mom. I had to become a tough girl, like I am today when my dad died. I had to fend for myself. My dad had always protected me. When he died my mom started drinking and everything so she would always try to beat me, I had to learn to defend myself." "Well there you go."

"Sam." "Yeah." "You didn't answer one of my questions." "Which one?" "Why do you always hurt me?" I was hoping he wouldn't ask that. "Um." "Um, Freddie, I." I wanted to run, but I wanted to stay, wrapped in his comforting arms. "Freddie, I." I decided to be partly true. "I'm not sure, I just do."

He nodded. "I guess I deserve it." "No you don't, you know that." "Yes I do, I'm such a horrible person." "No you're not Freddie, you're one of the nicest people I know. You put everyone elses needs on front of yours. And you're really smart, and usually I wish I were you." He stared at me. "Sam, that's nice but, if it weren't for me, our dads would still be alive." "I don't understand." "I guess it's my turn to tell you what happened that night." I nodded and he told me.

"I know it's lame, but I was younger, so, yeah. My blanket you saw, it was ripped. It meant a lot to me. My dad had gotten it for me. I begged and beg if he would get it fixed, finally he said yes. We were about halfway to the store. When I saw a little animal on the side of the road. 'Dad stop' I had screamed. 'What's wrong?' he had asked. I told him about the animal, and he stopped. We got out of the car, and I wrapped it in the blanket. And started cuddling it. Then a man, your dad ran over, and started screaming about a car, and pointed, I was terrified, so I dropped the blanket, the blanket and the little chipmunk inside it blew to the middle of the road. I ran to save it, my dad and yours ran after me, your dad picked me up and ran to grass and softly put me down, my eyes were huge, I was afraid. "It's going to be okay." He had said softly. He ran to save my dad, it was to late. A passing car had seen and called 911. The car that killed our dad's was long gone. Cops took us to Carly's. Probably, because I lived there, and Carly was your best friend. You and me became sort of friends on the way. Then after two years or so, Carly invited me over to meet her best friend, which was you. You and your mom were there. And Sam." "Yeah?" "I think I found out, do you want to know who killed our dads, why the woman and the car were so familiar to you?" "Yes, I'm going to beat them." "Sam, I don't think you'd want to." "Why?!" "Your mom killed them."