*Hello my lovely readers (: Thank you so much for the reviews! I want to thank Mari13ssa, mebelucy, and icecoffee18 for being steady reviewers, Thank you much (: I hope you like this one, it's in Sam's POV and I hope it's good because I'm trying to point out how different she is and not focus so much on her disease. Also, sorry for all the 'potty words'. Also, how do I make a page break! Help please! But anyway Imma shut up now. Enjoy! Make a great day – Ariel*
Sam's POV
What a weird ass day. I made my way to the bus stop to go home. Freddie… He just… I don't even know what to think of what ever happened back in that closet.
After I'd calmed down enough to see people again, he'd walked me to the bathroom. He'd even faced public humiliation by going in there with me and helping me fix myself up. When I looked someone normal and was just waiting for the red face to go away, he'd reached out, touched my stomach, and then we left. He walked right out and I haven't seen him since. Well, except for lunch.
It was just so weird; I torture him on a daily basis and… Wait! When was the last time I hit him? .ham … I'm going soft! Hell no! Ugh. Note to self: Punch the next nerd you see.
But anyway, I can't stop thinking about it. Why is he in my mind so much lately? He needs to get out. I told him I was fine and I didn't need 'help'. So shouldn't he just ignore me and go back to his Carly worshiping? Why does he have to be so weird and nerdy all the time?
The bus pulled up and I stepped on, giving the driver a dirty look when he pointed to the pay machine. I quickly walked to my usual seat in the middle and sat down; glaring at the kid next to me until he moved, and setting my bag in his place.
I pulled my DSi out and focused on playing Mario to try to distract my brain from thoughts about a certain 'incident' with a certain tech-boy.
When I glanced up and saw my stop ahead, I gathered my things and pulled the silver cord. The driver glared at me as I got off of the bus. His name is Herb. We do this every day.
As I walked to my house, I stepped on the brown leaves scattered across the sidewalk.
Fall. My favorite season. Pretty and colorful skies, cool weather, leaves, those stupid fucking mosquitoes are dying, it's amazing. I look up at the cloudless and purple-looking sky, seeing a few birds fly across the sky.
OW! There it is; that pain that shoots across my stomach and chest when I'm hungry. I kneel down and clutch my chest as I wait for it to die down. I stay kneeled and pull a water bottle out of my bag; I down the whole thing in minutes and the pain starts to die a little bit, but it still hurts. I try to ignore it and get up and start walking to my house. When I get to the end of my street, the pain calms to only a throb in my stomach and I hear my stomach growl. I ignore it and walk to my yard.
Something's wrong.
I feel it in my gut, in my stomach. My palms start sweating and I struggle to keep up my nonchalant demeanor.
I walk onto the porch and take a few deep breaths, preparing for whatever I might find inside. I reach a shaky hand out to the knob, and open the door.
The house is dark; the only light coming from candles lit in various areas. The appearance of the house reminds me of a scary movie, and that worries me. I drop my bag near the door and wrap my arms around myself. It's a habit I've picked up, hugging myself; it makes me feel safer and loved. I'm still standing in the entryway, so I walk into the kitchen and start getting a glass of water.
"Where the hell have you been?" I heard my mother hiss from somewhere in the dark room. She's drunk again. I can hear it in her voice. I quickly spin around, too fast; the glass drops from my hand and hits the tile, breaking into a million pieces.
"Look what you did now!" She screams and then appears in front of me. I bend down to clean up the glass but she yanks me back up. Her hand squeezing my shoulder and holding me right in her face.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" She asked, so close I could smell the alcohol on her breath.
"It's… just a glass, I'll clean it up," I say slowly, preventing any cracks in my voice, trying to keep my dignity. She shakes her head and pushes me, letting go of my shoulder so I fall against the counter.
"Not that fucking glass! Why didn't you pay the electrical bill?" She demanded. I look at her, what the hell?
"Well, mother," I bite out the word as if it were poison, "That's your job. YOU didn't pay the bills so the electric company shut the power off. Good job" I said sarcastically, standing myself up straight and crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"Everything I do for you! You can't pay one fucking bill? You're such an ungrateful little brat!" She yells and I just shake my head. I could feel the anger flushing through me, she asked for it.
"WHAT? You don't do shit for me! You're drunk half the time, and the other half, you're sleeping with every guy you see! I don't need this! I need a mother. And you're doing a shitty job of being one. Get off of your fucking high horse and look around!" I motion to the dark house, "This is your life! Not that glamorous, rich shit you see on TV and somehow convince yourself is yours. Just because you didn't pay the bills doesn't mean that you can pull this shit on me! Fuck off!" I yell, clenching my teeth and feeling my fists shake.
She steps back, shocked. Good. I could tell her a lot more about herself, but I don't want to waste my breath. What kind of mother is she?
She squints her eyes and glares at me.
Then, before I can see it coming, she reaches her hand out and slaps it across my face. Her aim is bad since she's so wasted, but she still manages to get most of my cheek. It hurts and I know it's going to redden.
"Don't talk to me like that!" She screams and I wonder what the hell our neighbors are doing that they can't hear us.
I unfold my hands and raise one up to my cheek,
"Don't touch me!" I scream even louder than she did. I pushed her, hard, and as she hit the counter and struggled to get up, I ran to the door, grabbed my bag. Then I ran to my room and locked the door.
I grabbed my duffel bag out of my closet and began shoving stuff in there, and once I had clothes and all that crap, I shoved my bag in there and snatched my phone charger out of the socket.
She was banging and clawing on the door the whole time. I looked around my room to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything and ran to my window. I pushed it up and turned around to look once more at the door.
I climbed out and ran to the front yard. I heard her yelling when she finally got the door open and found me gone. I started down the street, hoisting my duffel onto my back, and looking straight ahead. When I got to the corner I could still hear her.
'Bitch!', I heard her yell as I turned the corner and headed for the bus stop.
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*separate* {Once again, sorry for the bad language.}
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By the time I got to Bushwell Plaza, I was exhausted. Even though it was probably only like Nine o'clock, I was freaking tired. My cheek still felt sore and it was probably red or pinkish by now; my hair was tangled and messy from running to the bus a block away, when it pulled up. But other than that, I looked okay.
I made my way up to the Shay apartment. I picked the lock and let myself into the dark apartment.
"Spencer! Carles! Anyone here?" I called out. The apartment remained dark and silent. Crap. I checked Carly and Spencer's bedroom and looked around, but I guess neither of them was home.
I sighed to myself and headed out of their apartment. I made sure to lock the door behind me and stood in the hallway.
Should I really do this? I started pacing back and forth. I could just hang at the Shay's until they get home… Well his mom isn't home... And I really don't want to be alone… Besides I have to talk to him about today…
I threw my hands up in frustration and walked over to Freddloser's door. I picked the lock and carefully opened the door. His living room was empty and the house was dark. I looked over toward his bedroom door and saw light shining from at the bottom. I shut the door and locked it, then went into the kitchen and helped myself to one of the 'chemical free' water bottles in the fridge. I walked closer to the door and could hear voices. What? Is he talking to his mom? I pressed my ear to the door and took a sip of my water.
"Maybe I should call her… I mean… just to ask her what she was so upset about… No, she'll probably call me a dick lord or a fuckface or an ass clown or something… *sigh*…. No, I have to call… Or maybe… Ugh." I listened to Freddie's little argument with himself. So his mom is at work. I smiled to myself and quietly pushed his door open.
"You forgot shitsack… Oh, I also like dick tickler… Oh! Pansy-faced-nark is also a favorite of mine!" I said, watching the shock flash across his face. I laughed and took a seat in his computer chair. He was sitting on his bed with his legs hanging off of the edge.
I looked around his room, I had been in here before, but it looked kind of different. Well, for starters, he had talked his mom into letting him get rid of his lame wallpaper and he'd hung up a few pictures- mostly of me, Carly, and him; but some with Gibby or the dork-club- and he moved his bed over next to the wall across from the window.
"Hey, where'd you get this picture?" I asked him, pointing to one of me on the wall behind him. He, Carly, and Gibby were eating at lunch and I was sitting there with a tray full of untouched food. This was taken today, I looked distant and distracted. It was a pretty good picture though. My hair framed my face nicely, my lips looked pink and pouty, my skin actually didn't look so pale, and I was staring at the camera with a blank expression, it looked like I wasn't even looking at the camera, like I was staring right through it.
He didn't turn around to see what I was talking about, he just stared at me.
"Sam… your… your cheek… What happened?" He asked cautiously, holding his hand up as if to touch it, even though I was on the other side of the room. I shrugged and walked over and sat next to him on the bed.
"I'll... tell you later. I left home. Can I sleep here? Just tonight?" I asked him, avoiding his eyes. He was quick to respond,
"Yea, yea, just… what happened?" He asked ounce again. I stood up and walked over to his dresser. I opened it and grabbed a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, deciding to sleep in them since I hadn't packed pajamas.
I held up my finger in a 'one minute' type of way and headed to the bathroom attached to his room to change. I slipped into his clothes and looked in the mirror. I adjusted the drawstring on the shorts and smoothed the shirt out. I raked my fingers through my hair to untangle it and then walked back to his room.
He was watching me curiously as I climbed onto his bed and settled into the corner. I grabbed a pillow and put it behind my back and pulled my knees up to my chest.
He got up and locked the door without saying anything and then sat back down on the bed and turned toward me, pulling his legs onto the bed and resting his back against the headboard. He waited for me to explain.
So I did. I told him everything: My dad, my eating problems, my dreams, my breakdowns, my mom, Everything.
I didn't know I could talk that much and I didn't plan on telling him all of that. But when I started, I couldn't stop; the words flowed out of me like a waterfall.
He let me speak, didn't interrupt, just nodded his head and watched me the whole time. It felt nice to finally tell someone the truth, talk about how I feel.
Back at home, the glass was probably still scattered all over the floor, like me. I'd broken just like the glass. A broken person is like broken glass, you can hurt yourself trying to fix it, or just leave it broken. I'd broken into a million pieces just like the glass, but even though the glass was ignored, I wasn't.
I'd spent so long just waiting for someone to try to glue me back together; I'd even tried myself, but I'd only managed to break myself even more. But Freddie, he's here. And he cares. He's willing to take the risk. The guy who I've been torturing for years, the guy that has every reason to hate me, is the only one who listened.