His Friend Sam

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Have you lost touch with the things in your life, including yourself? Would you risk everything and let yourself go to get it all back?

Chapter 1 (v.1) - His Friend Sam

Submitted: July 01, 2010

Reads: 244

Comments: 1

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Submitted: July 01, 2010



At first i was having trouble deciding how i would write this, but then i decided im going to write about my life. Some of the stuff in here is true (like the SOME characters) but other things (like the events) are not true. The emotions are all real.This is true confession/ romance.

Chapter 1

I was six-teen when i bought the ticket. The ticket that ruined my parent's life. The ticket that ruined my chances of going to Harvard.The ticket that bought me one step closer to who i was. I had sixthousand dollars saved up in my account my mother set up for me. I boughtfour round trip tickets (for myself) for California to India, India to China, China to Indonesia, and Indonesia back to California. On the plane to India idecided that i wasn't running away. No, runningaway meant thatyou were running FROM something. I wasn't running from anything. I guess you could say I was running from myself, or, who i wasbecoming.

I first recgonnized this fear when i was in asembly at school. The principle was callingout the name of who had the highest GPA in the state. Of course i was your chick. Everyone calpped, and a few seniors (AKA Jessica Mclane) glared at me as I walked to the center of the auditorium. News camera, Newspaper jounalist, my parents, all smiled and nodded at me. My best friend, Shay, stood and yelled: "Speech! Speech!" and by the time she got to the second one the whole school (excluding McLane) were all chanting that stupid word. Shay was like my sister, but right now i wanted to set off a granadein her stomach.I walked shakily to the podium, cleared my throat and opened my mouth.

Before I could get any simblence of a sylyball out of my mouth new cameras, random people, people with notebooks and those pencils in their ears (you know the people with the pencils in their ears that just made you want to snatch them out) were all standing around me, blocking my view from my smiling parents.

"Samantha! How will this honor affect your future?"

"Samantha will you be applying to Harvard at the age of six-teen!"

"Samantha how did all that work affect your social life!"

All of their question surrounded and suffocated me until i couldn't breath. Ther reporters were closing in on me and i couldn't take it. I will not take it. Was this what i wanted? Did i want to get an early admission to Harvard? I spent so much time making sure everything was perfect that i didn't have time to think about myself.

That's when i ran out of the auditorium, ignoring the smirk that Mc Lane gave me. I threw open my locker and got my backpack and ran. i was scared. Have you ever felt like sometimes you experienc things too fast? I mean i was six-teen and i was already having a nervous breakdown. The weeks following my breakdown, i was sittingin the library filling out an application to Harvard the principle gave me when i realized my hand was shaking. I was on the question: "Why did you choose Harvard as your choice. What would you bring to Harvard if you attended?" My pencil dropped from my hands and i realized.

This wasn't what i wanted. I can't go to Harvrd. i wouldn't go to Harvard.

I don't want to do this anymore. That horrible thought consumed me as i went dumbly through the rest of the day. I sat in the bathrrom and cried for hours after school. Shay didn't come looking for me.

I was supose to want to go to Harvard. I was suppose to want to have these things. But i didn't want it, they did. The newscasters, the principle, Shay, my parents. I couldn't take it. I wouldn't take it.

I walked slowly home, planning my every word my every move. I walked up to my room, got out my suitcase and packed. Before i went to bed, i tried to talk myself out of this, but i knew i HAD to do it. I looked at myself in the mirror. The light was gone from my eyes, my skin was pale, my hair, stringy. WHo was this girl?

I was gone in the morning. I was gone for two years.

When i returned, things were ........bad. I knocked on the front door and my mother was the person who answered the door. At first she had no sign on recognoition of her own daughter on her face. I had this horrible thought standing there with suitcases on top of suitcases. Maybe my parents forgot me. They forgot who I was. Maybe all my friends replaced me with some blond bimbo. That would be ironic considering i was a carrot top.

But the confused expression turned to one of extreme relief when i said.

"Hey mom."

She there her arms around me calling my father to the door. When he saw my eight-teen year old face he walked qucikly over to me and sank to his knees. I couldn't be sure, and i'm still not sure today what he was saying, but im almost positive he said:

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I walked into my old room and saw pictures of me recieving awards and playing chess. I smiled and picked up the picture of me and Shay in Savannah. We both looked so happy.

I sat slowly down on the bed and thought of Shay. She would be so mad at me. Does she even know im back? Did she evennotice whenihad gone?

It was nin-o-'clock when i decided to visit Shay. I got into my car and drove to familiar address. I couldn' actually park, considering Shay was having a party. At that moment i never felt more alone. I guess it's my own fault, fleeing to the other side of the world for two years with no contact information.

As i walked up in drive way, i saw people (mostly guys) turn their heads and gape at me. I tried my best not to hunch my shoulders as i walked through the front door. People were smoking, drinking, kissing, and other things. You know stupid stuff you do ata party.

I saw Shay immediatly, and felt the urge to cry. She was so familiar. She was with four girl. Some of them i regoonized.I walked slowly up to her saying 'excuse me' now and then. When i arrived at her side, i tapped her shoulder. She laughed as she turned and her eyes widened.

I smiled shly at her looked at my shoes. She didn't hug me, she didn't smile. She lurched back when i tried to touch her. She narrowed her eyes me and said:

"Sam? Is that you?" she whispered. WHen i nodded, she let out a loud squeak (that caused half of them room to turn and look at us) and covered her mouth. My bottom lip quivered and iwhispered.

"Shay, i'm so sorry." She shook her head frantically and continued to look at me. What did she think i was dead?

"Shay, please. I'm sorry." i said taking her shoulders and finally embracing my best friend. She cried on my shoulder and clung to me.

By that time i heard whispers like

"Whoa, I didn't even know she was alive?"

"Is that Samantha Pittman?"

"She's hot."

Shay couldn't seem to stop crying. I whispered in her ear:

"I'm so sorry. I should have explained."

"I thought you were dead." she whispered. I nodded and sighed.

I was home.

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