-Guilt-

'This sucks. I hate gym.'

Still, she pushed herself, running faster—as though she could somehow outrun the insane scramble of thought bouncing around her mind like monkeys on crack. Her breath came out in short bursts and she focused on its ragged tempo, desperate for a way to escape.

"Sam!"

That voice… Sam ran even faster, dashing headlong passed several of her classmates and earning scattered applause when she became the first one to complete her laps—and in record time at that. Even then, she didn't stop, hurtling on as though the Devil himself was at her heels.

The ground sloped slightly, its grassy surface damp from the dew that had formed the night before, and she stumbled, tumbling to the ground and rolling downhill, where she landed in a heap, her ego bruised and her knees scraped.

"Are you okay?" No, not the Devil but Carly.

"I'll live."

"Come on, I'll take you to the nurse."

Millions of thoughts swirled around her head with the destructive force of a hurricane and—

And suddenly she was kissing Carly friggin Shay…!

—Sam could only blurt out an apology as she recoiled, her cheeks on fire.

"S-Sam?" Dark brown eyes were wide, pink lips parted slightly in shock. "Why did you—?"

Why hadn't she been able to run this quickly earlier?

Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid—how was it possible for anyone to be this stupid?

Sam would have been impressed had she not been so darn upset with herself. More than anything, however, she felt… guilty. And Sam had pushed Gibby down a flight of stairs before without feeling much more than amusement as she had asked if he was okay from the top of said stairs. What Hell-dwelling demon had possessed her in that very moment and made her do something so terribly impossible to take back? Now she'd have to move to another city, find new friends, and become a circus clown (because there was no way she was starting school again) to support herself. It would be tough, not to mention lonely, but it was far better than the alternative.

There was no way she could face Carly now.

"You've gotten really good at running." The irony of the statement was lost in rationality-eradicating panic.

"I…" Wow, she really couldn't think of anything that didn't sound totally lame right now.

Dark eyes were intense, searching. "Why did you do it, Sam?"

There were a lot of stupid reasons. Which did she want to hear first? It had all started with a little girl on a playground that had refused to be bullied…

"Sam."

How long had her mind been wandering? "What."

"Answer me." Why did Carly sound close to tears? "Why would you—?"

"I dunno, Carls. I do stupid shit all the time. It was a mistake and it won't happen again." She tried a smile, knew the attempt wasn't worth beans. "We done here?"

"A mistake…" Right. That was all it could be. "Yeah… I'll see you later."

As the pretty brunette walked away, there was a sharp, intense sensation in the very center of Sam's chest and she struggled for a moment to catch her breath.

Was this what dying felt like?