M A S K S 002

"The leaves of memory seemed to make a mournful rustling in the dark." ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sam ran out of the apartment, feeling lightheaded and slightly claustrophobic. Why? Nothing was wrong with Carly's apartment. She wasn't in danger, and certainly not one to freak out over anything small. So why had she just felt the urge to get out of the one place where she truly felt was her home? Nobody could answer that question and she certainly didn't have the slightest clue. She quickly walked down the steps, being as quiet as she could. She felt her heart beating against her chest when she heard multiple footsteps above her. She knew at least Carly and Freddie would follow her. With a sudden leave like that, who wouldn't? But she had to keep moving, had to be kept hidden. As she got to the last floor, she could feel an urge to cry, coming strong. What was wrong with her today? Sam Puckett never cried! Not even when her dad had left her and her mother alone in that shabby trailer. She always stood strong whenever she got in trouble at school, whether it be bullying, cheating, anything. And she held her ground when she burned her hand trying to put out a kitchen fire. She remembered that night clearly.

"Mom, where's supper?" a 12 year old Sam called out.

She received no answer. Wandering the trailer, she found her mom, sleeping on the couch, with a empty bottle in her loose grip. She tiptoed over to her slumbering mother, shaking her slightly. The empty bottle fell from her hand, rolling on the floor. Sam shook her even harder, but there was no sign that her mom would be waking up soon, not soon enough to make Sam dinner. She grabbed a thin blanket from her mom's room, letting it settle over her still body, the only movement being the slight rise and fall of her mom's chest. Looking over at the clock, it said 9:45. Sam walked over towards the refridgerator and found a carton of milk, a couple of eggs, and a head of lettuce. Walking over to the cabinets, she found a can of Spaghetti-Os and decided that she could at least make that. She looked all around the kitchen for a saucepan, and finally found one, on the bottom of the cabinet, hiding behind a couple of cobwebs. She rinsed it out in their dirty sink, a couple of dead spiders falling into the running water. Drying out the pan with a somewhat damp handtowel, Sam took it to the stove and set the oven on high, pouring the sloppy goop that was Spaghetti-Os into it. She walked back towards her mother, grabbing the empty bottle that had rolled onto the floor. It was cold and hard in her hands. As if it could destroy any enemy that she would ever come into contact with. Maybe that's how her mom felt when she held it too. She put the empty bottle on the sidetable next to the couch and knelt down in front of her mom's face. She lightly stroked her mom's hair and wondered why her mom had become this way. Why had her mom just decided to stop trying? They didn't need him. Sam's dad wasn't in the picture anymore. They could be happy, or so at least Sam thought, but apparantly she and her mom had different views on the subject. She pondered this for a minute longer while continuing to stroke her mom's hair. Her fingers accidentally touched her mom's forehead which was warmer than normal. Sam stood up slowly and dragged her feet over to the bathroom to grab a cold, wet cloth. Who could blame her? She was 12 years old, and at 10 o'clock, instead of sleeping and awaiting the rising sun, like the rest of her classmates, she was making her dinner to settle her roaring stomach and watching over her mom, like a mother would for her own child. Sam wrung out the cold cloth and shuffled her feet back over to the couch where her mother laid. Placing the cold cloth on her mom's forehead she was able to clear her head and breathe for a second. But when Sam breathed in, her nostrils twitched at the smell that was filling the room quickly. Sam's eyes darted over to the stove which had a plume of black smoke that pouring out of the pan. Her ability to process anything froze completely. She couldn't move without shaking. Running over to the stove, she grabbed the pan's handle. The black smoke singed at her hands which caused her grip to loosen She let go and out of instinct, reached for it to stop it from crashing onto the ground. The fire licked at her bare left hand, which caused Sam to forget about grabbing it completely. She staggered back a step, clutching her burning hand. The fire spread to the kitchen floor, swallowing the dirty tiles and a wooden chair. Sam ran to the phone in the living room where her mom laid, unmoving, unaware that their home was in the process of becoming nothing but ashes. Sam unknowingly pushed buttons onto the phone, coughing as the smoke continued to fill her lungs. She could hardly see anything from the combination of the smoke and her eyes watering.

"Yes. you've called 911, what is your emergency?" a tired and rather bored sounding voice called from the other end.

But Sam couldn't speak, all she could do was cough. Her hand still stinging, causing it to shake from the pain. But she managed to cough out, "There's a fire. Please help. Just come quickly, South 129th street."

Sam couldn't hear anything else. The phone dropped from her hands as she saw the flames coming closer to her and her unconscious mom. Sam darted over to her mom, wrapping her arms around her mom's chest and pulling her onto the floor. Sam stared at the fire, which was blocking the front door, there was no way she'd be able to get her and her mom out through that door without being hurt. She pulled her down towards the bedrooms and the bathroom, down the hallway, away from the blaze. Sam staggered with her mom inside Sam's bedroom. She somehow managed to pull her mom onto her bed and open the window right next to her bed. Smoke poured out almost immediately into the cold night air. Sam crawled through the window and carefully pulled her mom through. When her mom's feet hit the ground, her eyelids fluttered slightly. Her nose crinkling more and more as her eyes opened wider. Sirens could be heard getting closer and closer. Sam's body collapsed from underneath her and her eyelids drooped. She felt two pairs of hands lift her up off of the ground as her world went black.

Sam closed her eyes as she erased that memory from her current thoughts. She took a good look at her surroundings and saw that she was far away from Bushwell Plaza, far away from worrying eyes, far away from Carly, Freddie, and Spencer. She released a sigh and walked forward. The sun was slightly hiding beneath some tree tops, making it's way to go back to it's hiding place from the half of the Earth that she belonged to, which meant that it was her time, her time to do what she needed to do.

A/N~ OK I know this one was shorter than the last chapter and I know that I said that this chapter would be ready for next Sunday, but with the reviews I got, I got way too excited to wait a whole week! And I don't think you guys would be complaining! And this one may be shorter but I think it's important to let you guys see a little bit into Sam's past and what made her the way she is now. Obviously the fire and her mom is very traumatic to her, and might play a role in this story, we shall have to find out now shall we? Again review please! I love getting reviews! Yesterday when I got reviews for part 001 I was jumping all around getting excited and I got this part up a week early so that should tell you something right there! Part 003 could be up really soon, if you guys review! Peace! :)