ANDREA
I let out a small whimper when I feel Sammy shake my shoulder, not ready to get up just yet after the fitful rest I'd been somewhat enjoying. "Sorry to wake you, Andi, we have to be moving on." Begrudgingly, I sit up, rubbing my lower back in pain as Sam rummages around in his pack.
"It's still dark," I grumble, flopping back down and regretting it immediately when I land on a rock and my back begins to hurt even worse. "It's not safe to stumble around in the dark."
"It's always dark her—" His face registers a look of shock. "It's gone…. The Elvish bread!" He looks over at Gollum with an expression of pure hatred and anger. "He took it! He must have!" Sméagol's eyes widen at the accusation, shaking his head wildly.
"Sméagol," Sméagol asks," No, no, not poor Sméagol. Sméagol hates nasty elf bread!"
"You're a lying wretch!"
"He doesn't eat it," I point out with dawning realization. "He can't have taken it." Sméagol slaps Sammy's jacket lightly, sending crumbs to the ground.
"What's this," Sméagol asks, "Crumbs on his jacketses! He took it! He took it! I seen him, he's always stuffing his face when Mistress isn't looking!" I look to Sam with a hurt expression, believing Sméagol despite my better judgment. Sam looks equally hurt at the belief on my face, shaking his head slowly. Could he have taken it?
"That's a filthy lie," he shouts, voice breaking at the end. Sam lunges forward, knocking Sméagol to the ground and begins punching the creature. "You stinking two-faced sneak! Call me a thief!" I start forward, weakly pulling at Sam and yelling for him to stop. "I'll kill him! I'll kill him!" Dizziness hits me again, along with that traitorous voice and I collapse on the ground. I felt drained and defeated for the first time in my life. Always I had something, some bright light, to pull me out of this dark depression, but no such light shone down on me now. Sam looks at me, horrified. "Alright, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to go so far. I was angry… Here, let's rest up a bit."
"I'm alright," I tell him, wanting to just be left alone in silence for a while. I look down at the city below us, wondering what would happen to the Ring if I just rolled off the edge of the stairs and let everything end.
"No, no you're not alright! You're exhausted! It's that Gollum, it's this place, it's that thing around your neck." I give Sam a stern, paranoid look at mention of the Ring, but he doesn't seem to notice. "I could help a bit…. I could carry it for a while, share the load." His words echo in my mind, speaking of his longing for the Ring. He wants to take it from me.
"Get away!" I push him down, clutching the Ring through my shirt as I clumsily scramble to my feet.
"I don't want to keep it. I just want to help!"
"See, see," Sméagol shouts," He wants it for himself!"
"Shut up, you! Go away, get out of here!"
"No, Sammy," I say softly," it's you." Tears well up in Sam's eyes, but he refuses to let them fall just yet. "I'm sorry, Sam." I could feel the tears as they fall down my cheeks, part of me screaming to keep Sam around and throw Gollum of the ledge, but a louder voice telling me that Sam is a traitor and he always has been. He wants to take it from me and get all the glory.
"But," he says hopelessly. "He's a liar… He's poisoned you against me."
"You can't help me anymore."
"You don't mean that." The horrified feeling of losing Sam begins to dim as the dark voice in my head grows louder than ever, and my tears begin to dry up.
"Go home." I felt calm and in control for the first time since I'd came here to Middle-earth. The dam bursts and the tears Sam was holding back earlier begins to flow down his cheeks. I turn around, not wanting to see it lest I take him back and risk the safety of the Ring. "Come on, Sméagol."