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Sam's fragile body laid there, under the thin hospital sheets, looking vulnerable. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her arms sat lifeless on top of the covers, IVs invading her skin. There was a large bandage on her shoulder, and even though I couldn't see it, I knew about the bandage wrapped around her stomach, covering the large slit in her side. Her skin was paler than ever, sort of turning a blueish color. A shiver ran through me, and I considered that face that she could use some more blankets. Every inch of me wanted to go over to her and hold her close, to comfort her, and to make it all okay again.

It was an hour after we called Mrs. Puckett (Alexandria) when she finally arrived at the hospital. She was sitting in a chair beside Sam's bed, her elbow on the armrest and her head in her hand. She looked almost as bad as Sam, like she had just ran ten mile marathon on no sleep. Her eyelids kept easing shut, then shooting back open when she would start to fall out of her chair.

Carly and I sat in two chairs beside the door. Her and Spencer had gotten to Sam's house just after the ambulance arrived and rode behind us to the hospital.

All that Spencer knew to do was pace. Back and forth, from the window to the bathroom door. Window to bathroom door. Over, and over, and over. His footsteps were the only thing that broke through the silence. None of us knew what to say. The only words in the room within the two hours that I had been there were spoken by the nurse and Sam's mom.

Then he stopped pacing, and we all looked at him. "Alexandria, would you like to join me in getting some coffee?" I guess he had seen that she was tired, and was willing to do anything to get away from the awkward silence we were all consumed with.

She simply nodded, and stood up. He opened the door for her, and she said, "Thank you." Spencer said that it was his pleasure and, before the door shut, I heard her say, "By the way, you can call me Alex."

After they were gone, I looked over at Carly. She was playing with her multicolored beaded bracelet, carefully sliding each bead over to the right side. Then she slid them all back to the left. Then to the right again. She looked up at me, and then over at Sam. Her mouth opened, like she wanted to say something. She looked at me for a second, then closed her mouth and looked away.

"What is it?" I asked.

She swallowed and looked at Sam again. Then she sighed and looked down at her bracelet. "You probably don't want to talk about it."

She was right, I didn't want to talk about it. But the worried expression on her face broke through that barrier, and I insisted. "It's ok, you can ask me anything."

"Well, I was just wondering... what was she like when you found her?"

"Sam?" I gasped. I didn't even bother closing the door behind me as I rushed over to her. Her eyes had rolled over to look at me, but her expression remained the same: terrified, lost, hopeless. She was laying on the ground, one of her hands clutching her side. There was no way for me to know exactly what had happened to her, but I made my assumptions. Someone had tried to invade her. The obviously hadn't succeeded, since her shirt and underwear were still in place. "Sam, what happened to you?"

A groan escaped her closed lips, and moved her hand to reveal a large slit in her side. It was gushing out thick, red blood, staining her white shirt. I took in a quick, shaky breath and looked around for something to close the wound. There was a basket of laundry beside the couch, and I grabbed a sweatshirt from it.

"Here, hold this against your side." She slowly reached out to grab it, and then held it against her body limply. I reached down and pushed it harder against her, my hand on top of hers. "You need more pressure on it so you don't loose too much blood. Hold it tight." Then I searched the room for a phone. If I used the home phone, they would be able to trace the call to Sam's address, allowing them to arrive faster. "I'll be right back." I took my hand away from hers. "Hold it tight, ok?" She nodded weakly and I stood up.

As I walked across the room, I watched her to make sure that she kept the shirt against her side. Then I grabbed the phone, pressed the three numbers, and explained what had happened. They told me to remain calm and that they would be there as soon as possible. I hung up the phone. And throughout that entire process, my eyes didn't leave her. Not once.

Carly sat there, waiting for me to speak.

"She looked pretty beat up," was all I could say.

After nodding, Carly looked down at her hands. "What did you do?"

I shrugged. "Called 911."

Still looking away, she continued cautiously. "Do you know who did it?"

"No, how am I supposed to know?" I felt my voice getting hostile, and took a calming breath. "Nobody knows."

"Not yet. But there have got to be fingerprints somewhere..."

I thought of the knife that I had seen laying on the coffee table. Whoever did it to her had to have touched the knife. There had been someone in that house, and their DNA was left somewhere. Then I remembered hearing footsteps, thinking it was Sam, and voices, thinking it was a TV. Someone had looked out the peep hole; someone who wasn't Sam. Then they left. Some way, some how, they left that house, leaving Sam to be haunted forever. What kind of person would do that?

A monster, that's who.

Carly sighed and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go talk to Spencer. I wanna know what the police are doing to find whoever did this." She didn't wait for me to say anything in return. The door opened and closed, leaving me alone with Sam.

I looked around the room, searching for a blanket. My eyes spotted one on a small shelf beside the bathroom door, and I walked over to get it. Then I unfolded it, and gently laid it on top of her, trying my hardest not to wake her up. I could have sworn I saw her eyes open for a moment, but blew it off as an illusion, and pulled at the blanket to make sure it was covering her entire body. Then, I found myself leaning down, further, and further, until the space between us was closed. Her lips were soft, and a chill ran through my body. Then, I felt her kissing me back, and her hand brushed my face. I pulled away and looked into her eyes. She smiled, and I felt like for a minute, everything was okay.

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