Chapter 9 Silenced Screams

"Miss Samantha, your mother requests your presence in her parlor room."

"Jake," Sam made a face at her family's butler, "what have I told you about calling me Samantha!"

"My apologies, Miss Sam, but your mother requests your presence in her private parlor."

"Thank you Jake," she replied sweetly, "oh and Jake could you please tell Lena I'll be down in the kitchen this evening."

"Of course Miss Sam," he said bowing slightly.

"Thank you," Sam said turning from the room her fake smile forming into a scowl. Sam absolutely hated Jake and she knew that the feeling was mutual. He was just so snobby and he was just the butler.

Pausing in front of her Mother's parlor she quickly schooled features before entering the room.

"Hello mother you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes please come sit down," Mrs. Manson beckoned her closer.

Sitting across from her mother on the sofa she waited for her mother to begin speaking.

"Sam your father and I think that you have been…adjusting rather well to living in England.

I stared at my mother blankly.

"Adjusting? hah," I mocked cruelly, "senility does not suit you well mother. So don't bitch to me about adjusting; I haven't left my rooms since they were done

"Samantha," she spoke, "do not take that tone with me, besides we really do think that London is doing you some good."

I scowled; it was like she hadn't heard a word I'd said.

Not having the strength to argue with her, I sharply nodded, "is there something you actually wanted to speak to me about?"

"Yes tomorrow your farther and will be leaving for New York to settle some of his affairs; I will accompany him. We will be gone for 9 day; I trust you will be proficient enough to handle the estate?"

"Of course," I practically snorted in disbelief, "Will Grangran be coming back with you or has will she continue to be prisoner at the retirement home you packed her off to?"

"She will be staying at the lavish retirement, of her own volition, Samantha," Pamela spoke the icy tone of her voice a clear warning.

My face was expressionless as I simply nodded in acceptance; though in the inside I screamed in despair.

"That is all Samantha; you may go."

Rising I swept from the parlor; escaping to the sanctuary of quarters in desperation to be away from my mother. A humorless laugh escaped my lips.

Hah, my mother; being in her presence makes me physically ill. Fuck she wouldn't know how to be a mother even if there were an instructional manual.

As memories of my childhood filtered through my thoughts, I realized I had never acknowledged Pamela as my mom. She had always been this unattainable, unappeasable, unemotional person. When I thought of her she was associated with cold, aloof, absent. I dreaded her presence at all times and had no desire to be near since I had been very young. The word mother was not concurrent with any type of affection at all

My thoughts flickered to Danny and Jazz's relationship with their mom. As I analyzed all the times I had observed their mother, child relationship I found myself envious. I wanted what they had in a mom. I wanted to be able to be a mom like theirs.

Without warning I felt tears fall down my cheeks. It was completely silent and all that could be heard was the almost inaudible splash of my tears as the hit the counter. Reaching my hand up to my face I felt the wet the left behind. Looking up I found myself to be staring into the large mirror in my bathroom. My tears were black from my running mascara. Idly I noted I should most likely buy waterproof mascara since I was now living in London and it could rain at any time. The black trail that stained my cheeks contrasted my pale almost sun starved skin. As I continued to analyze myself in the mirror I noticed exactly how much I had changed since arriving in London. My cheekbones had become more prominent, my once comfortably fitted clothes seemed to hang off of my bony frame and my hair though brushed and neatly tied back was limp and dull. My once vibrant violet eyes were subdued and dark bruising bags hung from them.

Suddenly disgusted by my appearance I collapsed to the floor; screams tearing from my throat. I screamed and I screamed; screamed away the disgust, hurt, pain, loneliness, everything. I screamed until I was hoarse and couldn't even speak. Suddenly I felt exhausted; dragging myself from the bathroom I swooned and fell onto my bed. Feeling oblivion steal over me; I realized my screams had been silenced by the soundproof walls.

A/N:

A long over due look into the life of Samantha Manson

My laptop has tragically died due to a virus hence all updates for all stories will be at best sporadic. I apoligize for not updating sooner.