Chapter Three
Samantha’s دل plummeted to her knees, and the world began to spin. “Oh. My. God.” Were the last words she was able to think before she blacked out.
I. Can’t. Believe. It. I. Can’t. Believe. It. I. Can’t. Believe. It, she thought. Over and over. It was too weird to be a coincident. Definetly. Was I supposed to do something?, she asked herself. I mean, it was out of my control, I barely knew her, she justified. But a little voice in the back of her head told her differently.It whispered urgently. آپ knew. آپ should have stopped it. Obviously, there was something up. She didn’t kill herself till 4 am, آپ had already had the train dream. Are آپ that dim-witted آپ didn’t make the connection?
After Samantha woke up, she left. Just walked out of school, transfixed.Curious. Stunned. And god help her, a little proud. That she was maybe physcic. Not that she was going to tell anyone about the dream یا Melissa. They’d think she’d gone crazy. Finding herself trudging through slush again, she started plotting on how to get out. If the stand out kids weren’t surviving, then she probably wouldn’t either. The place was a dead-end, a black hole, a vortex of losers and nobodys.
Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha spotted something. Whipping her head around frantically, she found that no one was there. Huh. She could’ve sworn she’d seen something. Blaming it on hunger (she hadn’t eaten for 3 days), she journeyed on. Hoping, wishing for a way out the black hole. It was so hopeless. For miles, it was desolate. When something black popped into her line of vision, her grip tightened on the pocket چھری she kept in her back pocket. As quickly as it came, it vanished. She was so hungry and she knew it. But she was starting to like it. Savoring the hunger, basking in it. Starving so she could feast on the hunger itself. Delicious.
Out of nowhere, the instinct to leave kicked in. Out, out, out. Of course, she’d wanted to get out of here for a while, but now it was driving her. Sprinting back home, she quickly collected a few belongings, clothes, toothbrush and paste, and the trivial amount of food she even had left in her home. Begging her اگلے door neighbor, she pleaded for him to take care of Poochy Pie.
“Please, Mr.Atkins. She’ll die if we leave her alone, and Dad and I have to go. We can’t afford the rent anymore, so we’re going back to Mom’s hometown,”
“All right, Sweetheart,” he replied.
With no مزید responsibilities, the real action started to take place. She emptied every penny she owned and hopped on a grayhound bus, taking her to Atlanta, Georgia. A couple miles in, the adrenaline drained from her body. The danger, whatever it was, was gone.
The air brakes wheezed to a stop, and Samantha stepped off the bus, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings. Why am I here, she thought, gawking at herself. And her obvious growing insanity. Here she was, in Atlanta, miles away from home, just because she felt like she had to leave. Bustling people hurried سے طرف کی her in the streets. Dumbfounded, she stood paralyzed as her actions finally started to sink in. Backpack weighing on her shoulders, she followed the crowd. Eventually, they dispersed, dads running towards families, embracing each other. Buisnessmen and women rushing over to meeting number 1 and 2. Teenagers greeting دوستوں animatedly. As always, Samantha stood alone.
“Your’e in my spot,” A rough looking, homeless man in tattered clothes barked at Samantha. Startled, Samantha lept off the park bench.
“Er, sorry” she stammered.
She felt so lost and out of place here. Citizens glowered at her wherever she went, and apparently she couldn’t even sit on a stinking park bench without being yelled at. So far that day, she’d been reprimanded several times سے طرف کی several دکان owners and passer-bys. She’d grown used to the what’s- that-stupid-white-chick-doing-here glare, but screaming still frightened here, even though it reminded her of home. Plopped on the side of a curb, she placed a styrofoam cup in front of her, and began to sing. After 3 hours, she had a hoarse voice and 6 dollars. She couldn’t help thinking what she was doing there. After all, in a week یا two she’d be broke, cold, and homeless. Well, she already was cold and homeless. But still.
When she stumbled upon a new Greyhound bus schedule, she pounced on it. Deciding to take the very اگلے one, she found herself on the way to Nashville, Tennessee. After that, Kentucky. Then, Chicago. Shivering, she huddled on a سٹریٹ, گلی corner, begging. The soft, warm glow of a tv radiated from a sports’ bar. Samantha’s eyes fixated on it from outside, and she read the captions underneath the reporter’s face. And now we’re getting live footage from the massive آگ کے, آگ that destroyed a small town in Alabama, Graysville. Only a mere 100 citizens survived, and several dogs and cats. Mr. Sam Atkins is here to tell his story.
What? What’s going on? Why do I keep being saved? Snowflakes drifted down from the dark, ominous sky, annoying Samantha with their innocence. They clung to her greasy, filthy hair and flew down into her eyes, making them sting. When she could see, Samantha spotted something. No, not a shadow یا a ghost, but a familiar looking person. She started to cry out but the words got lodged in her throat when she fully realized who it was.
“Samantha? Is that you?”
Savannah, her sister, stood over her wearing a charcoal grey trenchcoat, blonde hair flopping in her face as she leaned over.
“Yes” Samantha croaked.
Samantha’s دل plummeted to her knees, and the world began to spin. “Oh. My. God.” Were the last words she was able to think before she blacked out.
I. Can’t. Believe. It. I. Can’t. Believe. It. I. Can’t. Believe. It, she thought. Over and over. It was too weird to be a coincident. Definetly. Was I supposed to do something?, she asked herself. I mean, it was out of my control, I barely knew her, she justified. But a little voice in the back of her head told her differently.It whispered urgently. آپ knew. آپ should have stopped it. Obviously, there was something up. She didn’t kill herself till 4 am, آپ had already had the train dream. Are آپ that dim-witted آپ didn’t make the connection?
After Samantha woke up, she left. Just walked out of school, transfixed.Curious. Stunned. And god help her, a little proud. That she was maybe physcic. Not that she was going to tell anyone about the dream یا Melissa. They’d think she’d gone crazy. Finding herself trudging through slush again, she started plotting on how to get out. If the stand out kids weren’t surviving, then she probably wouldn’t either. The place was a dead-end, a black hole, a vortex of losers and nobodys.
Out of the corner of her eye, Samantha spotted something. Whipping her head around frantically, she found that no one was there. Huh. She could’ve sworn she’d seen something. Blaming it on hunger (she hadn’t eaten for 3 days), she journeyed on. Hoping, wishing for a way out the black hole. It was so hopeless. For miles, it was desolate. When something black popped into her line of vision, her grip tightened on the pocket چھری she kept in her back pocket. As quickly as it came, it vanished. She was so hungry and she knew it. But she was starting to like it. Savoring the hunger, basking in it. Starving so she could feast on the hunger itself. Delicious.
Out of nowhere, the instinct to leave kicked in. Out, out, out. Of course, she’d wanted to get out of here for a while, but now it was driving her. Sprinting back home, she quickly collected a few belongings, clothes, toothbrush and paste, and the trivial amount of food she even had left in her home. Begging her اگلے door neighbor, she pleaded for him to take care of Poochy Pie.
“Please, Mr.Atkins. She’ll die if we leave her alone, and Dad and I have to go. We can’t afford the rent anymore, so we’re going back to Mom’s hometown,”
“All right, Sweetheart,” he replied.
With no مزید responsibilities, the real action started to take place. She emptied every penny she owned and hopped on a grayhound bus, taking her to Atlanta, Georgia. A couple miles in, the adrenaline drained from her body. The danger, whatever it was, was gone.
The air brakes wheezed to a stop, and Samantha stepped off the bus, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings. Why am I here, she thought, gawking at herself. And her obvious growing insanity. Here she was, in Atlanta, miles away from home, just because she felt like she had to leave. Bustling people hurried سے طرف کی her in the streets. Dumbfounded, she stood paralyzed as her actions finally started to sink in. Backpack weighing on her shoulders, she followed the crowd. Eventually, they dispersed, dads running towards families, embracing each other. Buisnessmen and women rushing over to meeting number 1 and 2. Teenagers greeting دوستوں animatedly. As always, Samantha stood alone.
“Your’e in my spot,” A rough looking, homeless man in tattered clothes barked at Samantha. Startled, Samantha lept off the park bench.
“Er, sorry” she stammered.
She felt so lost and out of place here. Citizens glowered at her wherever she went, and apparently she couldn’t even sit on a stinking park bench without being yelled at. So far that day, she’d been reprimanded several times سے طرف کی several دکان owners and passer-bys. She’d grown used to the what’s- that-stupid-white-chick-doing-here glare, but screaming still frightened here, even though it reminded her of home. Plopped on the side of a curb, she placed a styrofoam cup in front of her, and began to sing. After 3 hours, she had a hoarse voice and 6 dollars. She couldn’t help thinking what she was doing there. After all, in a week یا two she’d be broke, cold, and homeless. Well, she already was cold and homeless. But still.
When she stumbled upon a new Greyhound bus schedule, she pounced on it. Deciding to take the very اگلے one, she found herself on the way to Nashville, Tennessee. After that, Kentucky. Then, Chicago. Shivering, she huddled on a سٹریٹ, گلی corner, begging. The soft, warm glow of a tv radiated from a sports’ bar. Samantha’s eyes fixated on it from outside, and she read the captions underneath the reporter’s face. And now we’re getting live footage from the massive آگ کے, آگ that destroyed a small town in Alabama, Graysville. Only a mere 100 citizens survived, and several dogs and cats. Mr. Sam Atkins is here to tell his story.
What? What’s going on? Why do I keep being saved? Snowflakes drifted down from the dark, ominous sky, annoying Samantha with their innocence. They clung to her greasy, filthy hair and flew down into her eyes, making them sting. When she could see, Samantha spotted something. No, not a shadow یا a ghost, but a familiar looking person. She started to cry out but the words got lodged in her throat when she fully realized who it was.
“Samantha? Is that you?”
Savannah, her sister, stood over her wearing a charcoal grey trenchcoat, blonde hair flopping in her face as she leaned over.
“Yes” Samantha croaked.
sorry everyone who reads these but i have to stop writing them for three weeks. I thnk i will be able to fit in maybe 1 in that period, but i have my prelims and i will be too tired یا too something to کریں شائع them, sorry. But i will try, i promise!
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sorry it had to be longer lol
.................still longer...................
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sorry it had to be longer lol
.................still longer...................
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