Just for This Year

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hi all! So this chapter gets a bit dark, and I'll tell you now that is not because anyone dies. But Lila and Sam have a pretty deep conversation that gets a bit dark. I didn't mean for it to, but as I was writing it sort of made sense for the characters. So, please take care of yourself! I'm gonna put a chapter summary at the end if you want to skip this chapter.

Warnings:
Discussion of unintentional suicidal thoughts (the character does not realize their thoughts would be considered suicidal, and the character does not plan to act on any of the thoughts), talk of drunk driving (not Sam), a non-descriptive dream about drowning

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Friday
November 1

1 Day After

Sam was drowning.

Hands were grabbing at him from every direction, tearing him further and further into the icy, dark depths.

He instantly tried to fight off the hands, jolting his body in every direction to fight them off.

But they kept dragging him down...

Further.

Further.

Further.

Water cascaded into his lungs, his body convulsing as it tried to expel the unwanted liquid.

It only made him sink faster. Only made more hands grab him and drag him down.

He broke one of his hands free, desperately reaching up. He grunted and fought with everything within him, teeth gritting as he tried to break free. But a hand reached up and grabbed his own, yanking him down even more.

Nothing worked. He kept sinking down.

Sinking.

Sinking.

Sinking.

He swore he could see the silhouette of someone at the bottom. But it didn't frighten him, it made him feel safe. Something about it felt familiar, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it and never let go. He wanted to hold onto the silhouette forever.

Sam suddenly didn't care that he was drowning, it didn't matter.

He stopped fighting the hands dragging him down.

Sam was giving in. He wanted to feel safe again. He wanted to feel happy like he used to. Maybe if he stayed here... he would get that.

Maybe. But maybe not.

He wasn't sure.

Nothing was making sense. He was drowning, and nothing was making sense. How could anything make sense with water filling his lungs and hands dragging him down to the depths of the darkness?

Down.

Down.

Down.

Sam inhaled sharply, eyes shooting open but instantly shutting when harsh lights poured into them. His mind was sluggish as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Everything hurt... why did everything hurt? He groaned softly, his fingers twitching as if regaining control over his body. His eyes roamed the room and saw it was empty.

He tried to think of the last thing he could remember, and felt a pang in his head at the effort. Lila always told him not to think too hard or he'd hurt himself, and he was sure she would get a kick out of this. Sam suddenly recalled pieces of the night: Charlie's college acceptance, Sam's lack of college acceptance... and then getting into the car.