Chapter 6. -Flashbacks

I hate getting flashbacks from things I don't want to remember.

~Author Unknown

My eyes flew open. I was home –I was at Spencer's. I was in Carly's old room. It'd been a dream. Another stupid, bad dream.

I sighed. I was still so tired. The nightmares wore me out. They weren't ordinary nightmares. Ordinary nightmares would disappear when you woke up. Ordinary nightmares would be scared away by the morning light.

But these were more than dreams, these were worse. They were memories. Flashbacks, haunting me while I slept. And the thing about memories, is that they're not just something your mind makes up. They're real.

And every time I had to relive these memories, I'd feel the same pain, the same grief and the same impotence.

And every time I'd die a little more inside.

I hopped out of bed. I changed into some yoga pants and a tank top. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, to keep it out of my face. When I walked by the mirror, I stopped to stare at myself. With my hair up, I looked just like Melanie.

It was like looking at Melanie's face instead of my own. Tears started building up in my eyes. I pulled the rubber band out of my hair. It immediately fell down to my shoulders. I wiped my cheeks before leaving the room.

When I came down the stairs, I saw Freddie sitting on the couch. "Hey nub, what're you doing here?" I jumped the last two steps. Freddie turned around. "O, hey Sam! Spencer is out, shopping for one of his art works." He told me.

"Okay, but what are you doing here? Didn't we drop you off at school?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Freddie smiled. "Yeah, you did –five hours ago! It's five PM." He informed me. "Really?" I did a poor job at hiding my surprise –I didn't think I'd slept more than one, maybe two hours.

I sat down on the couch next to him. "So, err, tomorrow you're going back to school?" Freddie asked. I nodded. I didn't feel like talking. "Are you… planning to see your mother anytime soon?" I flinched at the mentioning of my mom.

I glared at Freddie. "That's none of your business." I said. "Sam…" "No Freddie!" I shouted. "You're just like Carly and Spencer, everybody here is trying to get me reunited with my mom, and nobody even cares what I have to say about that! You don't know her, you don't know what she's like!" I yelled with thick voice.

Freddie carefully laid an arm over my shoulders. When I, for some reason, didn't flinch, he pulled me in a hug. "Sam, we're all just trying to help you." He whispered. "This isn't easy on us either, we just want what's best for you. And sometimes, we don't know what that best really is."

My sobs became louder, and I was pretty sure I was getting Freddie's shirt wet, but if he noticed, he didn't care. He just rubbed my back, and whispered soothing, apologetic words, till I ran out of tears to cry.

I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. "If anyone walks in here right now I'll have to kill you both." I whispered. Freddie laughed. "That's my Sam!" He sighed. "But, Sam, about your mother…" he started again.

I closed my eyes, but didn't shut him up this time. "Sam, I know you're hurt, and afraid, and you don't want to see her, and I understand –or at least I'm trying. And you're right. I don't know her. I don't know what she's like. But I know she loved Melanie. And I know she's just as devastated by her death as you are."

I tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow –bitter. "Well, last time I saw her, she sure had a funny way of showing that!" I said. "She was drunk." Freddie said. "I know, Spencer told me. But you know, that's really not such a funny way of expressing your misery. It's also not a very wise way, but it is common." He told me.

"Drinking makes the hurt go away, if only for a little while." He whispered. "Sam, you don't have to go through this alone. You've got us; me, Spencer, Carly… but your mom, she hasn't got anybody. She's lost one daughter, and now she's losing the other one.

"This has to be you're decision, and whatever it will be, I'll support it. And I'll make Spencer and Carly support it, too. But please, do think about it. I hope you'll at least talk to her. After all, she is your mom. And when that stops meaning anything, this world becomes a little more of a sadder place to live."

I slowly nodded my head. I knew. I knew all of this. But here at Spencer's, it all felt so safe. I had my friends around, ready to protect me when necessary. I was just… afraid. "I know." I whispered. "I know. But it's just… It just… hurts so much, and… I'm…" I couldn't even say it!

"I'm afraid!" I spit out the words. "I'm afraid, okay! I'm scared she's going to hurt me more, somehow, and I'm afraid!" I was crying without tears. "I know Sam! Really, I do. I know how it hurts to lose someone so close to you, I know how scared you are. And I understand." Freddie said with tears in his eyes.

How could I have forgotten? "Your dad." I whispered, suddenly calmness itself. Freddie nodded. "I was only ten, but I remember it all." He whispered. "I remember how it hurt –how unfair it was –still is. I remember the uncertainty; why was this happening, what was even happening?" he stopped to take a breath.

"And above all, I remember how afraid I was. I was afraid of how I'd make it due without my dad. I was so afraid my mom would leave too. And the nightmares, they kept coming back to me, I remembered everything as if I was there, feeling the same pain over and over again." He said.

And it helped, you know. To have someone understand me. Know the pain. I mean, Carly kind of understood. But not really. She couldn't have the nightmares, the flashbacks, since she had been too young to remember her mother. She knew the pain of the grief, but not the pain of the memories.

"Do you…" I began. "Do you still have them? The nightmares?" I asked. Freddie looked me in the eyes. "Sometimes." He said. "But only occasionally. It gets better Sam. Everything does. Cause, unlike love, the pain gets less in time."

"I want to believe that." I whispered. "Then do." Freddie said. "Then do, because it's true. I wouldn't lie to you." "I know." I said. "Thank you, Freddie, for…" I stopped myself. "Thank you."

It was kind of funny, really. When Freddie had lost his father, he'd been afraid of his mother leaving. Now I'd lost my sister, and I was afraid of the exact opposite. I looked at Freddie. He'd overcame his fears.

"You know what, Freddie? I think I'm going to talk to her."