*Okaydokay everyone, Sorry I haven't updated yet. With school starting and all that… Look, I know she isn't supposed to quit so soon but I was showing that in this chapter. But anyway I'm going to shut up and let you read this chapter. I hope you enjoy it! -Ariel*
"Oooung…" Sam groaned as the light shone through her window and awakened her. After trying to hide underneath her covers and try to fall back asleep, she knew it was useless. Sam got up and went to the bathroom; she has been drinking a lot of liquids and peeing a lot more ever since she started with her problem. The whole time, Sam thought that it was worth it; anything to be pretty, anything to be noticed.
Sam looked at herself in the mirror and felt her stomach. As soon as her hand made contact with the flesh, she remembered; she remembered the hand that touched her stomach less than 12 hours ago; she could feel the soreness in her throat from yelling and crying; she remembered how strong his arms felt holding her; but she would not allow herself to remember how good it felt. She would pretend it never happened and go back to hating him and bullying him.
Sam continued feeling her stomach, the way it felt so bony and small, she liked that. She reached down and felt her thighs, she sighed when she felt the horrible fat there, squeezing it as if that's all she had to do and it would disappear. Sam walked out of the bathroom and decided to hop onto her mother's old treadmill. As she walked past the front door, she heard someone knock, loudly enough she would hear it from her room. Sam looked across the room at the clock above the TV. 12:15pm, mom should be at work. Wow, that must suck with a hangover. Sam thought to herself, as she groaned and ran to the kitchen, throwing the door open and pulling a piece of cold chicken out of a container. She walked to the door and pretended to be in mid-bite as she opened it.
Freddie watched as Sam opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw it was him. She yanked the chicken leg out of her mouth and threw it into the kitchen. I can't believe I never noticed how small she's getting. She's skin and bones. Ignorance is bliss I guess. I mean just comparing it is killing me. How could I… we… let this go on? I thought Carly was her "best friend"? No one even noticed, maybe Sam's right, no one really pays attention to the small things she does. Well, the things that don't involve pain.
"Hello? Jeez Freddork, Are you going to just stand there looking stupid or are you going to tell me what you're doing here?" Sam asked punching him in the arm. It is amazing how someone so small can be so strong. Freddie thought as he rubbed his arm.
"Ow! I just thought maybe we could start your… er 'treatment'… with breakfast? I brought McDonald's. Big Breakfast; Pancakes and all, just like you like it." Freddie offered holding up the yellow McDonald's bag in his hand.
Sam hadn't noticed it but as soon as he held it up she could smell it. The pancakes, sausage, biscuit, and hash brown smells all drifted to her nose; Lingering, as if to taunt her. Sam felt her stomach churn and growl. Her hand flew up to her mouth as her head lurched forward. She took off for the bathroom, vomiting as soon as she got to the toilet.
Freddie didn't know what to think. He saw the alarmed look on Sam's face and heard her stomach growl, as she ran to the bathroom he stood there for a moment. Stunned and unable to move. He shook his head and brought himself back to reality, running as fast as he could to follow Sam. He walked in and she was already vomiting, he walked forward to grab her hair so it wouldn't fall in her face but she shot up pushed him away. Freddie almost fell but regained his balance by holding onto the sink for support.
"Freddie what the hell? Why did you bring that?" She held her breath and snatched the bag from him, throwing it out of the bathroom, as far away as she could.
"Sam I… I'm just trying to help you!" Freddie stammered, frozen where he stood. He looked in Sam's eyes and for the teeniest part of a second, he thought he saw regret somewhere deep in her eyes; But it was soon replaced with a scorching anger.
"What are you talking about? I don't need your help! I don't have any problems, Freddie. I'm not a math problem you can figure out in 2 minutes. I'm not crazy and I'm not sick. There's nothing wrong with me!" Sam yelled, stepping close enough she was right in his face, she spat out the last sentence and Freddie could feel the venom in it. He stepped back so he was now partially in the bathroom and partially in the hallway. It took him a second to calm down, he could feel his arms shaking and he tried to hide the hurt in his voice.
"Sam, last night you said… you said you wanted help. You said you wanted me to help you. Sam you have a problem and I want to help you. That's what friends do." Freddie said slowly, he could hear the way his voice sounded unsure and questioning and hated it. Sam was quiet for a moment, he watched as her eyes became blank, as if they were seeing nothing.
Her voice was detached, "Freddie, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a problem. I'm perfectly fine. I think you should leave now. I'm very busy." And with that, she walked out of the bathroom and into her room, shutting the door and leaving Freddie to show himself out.
Sam locked her bedroom door and sank down to the floor. Her head sank into her hands as she listened for Freddie to leave; after a few minutes, she finally heard him quietly close the front door. Sam pushed herself up and unlocked the door. She slowly opened it, and after she was sure he was really gone, she locked the deadbolt on the front door and walked quietly to her mother's room. She climbed onto the treadmill, throwing the clothes off of it, making a mental note to put them back, and ran. She ran for hours, trying to run the thoughts out of her mind, trying to forget the words that seemed to be engraved into her brain, 'Sam you have a problem and I want to help you. That's what friends do.'