Chapter 53

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Sam had always considered herself to be nobody's victim, but as she lay in bed crying she realised how wrong she had been. The dictionary definition of a victim was somebody who experienced misfortune and felt helpless to remedy it. That was Sam; she wasn't nobody's victim, she was everybody's victim.

People who didn't know her hated her guts and wanted her dead for no reason other than the fact that they were greedy for the Magic she possessed. There was nothing she could do to stop them, every time she killed one of them another took their place.

She buried her face in her pillow, taking in shallow breaths as she tried to calm herself down. What the fuck is wrong with me? She turned over so she was staring at the ceiling. Keeping her arms straight at her sides. Her hands balled into fists, gripping the sheets tighter and tighter as she tried to regain control of herself.

Loves me? Why does he have to be so damn stupid!

Her throat ached. It felt like it was filling up with something. Blocked, so that each breath she took through her nose was followed by the feeling of something trying to force its way out of her mouth. Sam pressed her lips shut, forcing her teeth together so tightly they hurt. She closed her eyes again to try calm herself.

It wouldn't work though.

When she closed her eyes all she could see was the look of hurt on Jamie's face as she had run away from him. Her heart felt like someone had it in their hand and was squeezing it horribly tight.

He doesn't understand, she told herself, he can't understand.

Sam felt something inside her break as she recognised the lie in her thoughts. The truth was that he could understand if she would give him a chance to. It was just another lie she had been feeding herself to make the pain of the truth stop hurting.

Her lips parted as she sighed, and with the sigh came the sound of a whimper. She squeezed her eyes closed again and let the tears fall.

Silently at first.

Then with loud sobs.

She turned on her side and buried her face in her pillow again, this time trying to muffle the sounds of her crying.

He wasn't supposed to love me.

"Sa—"

"Don't!" Sam snapped, interrupting Jack before he had a chance to do his impersonation of an alarm clock. She moved the duvet down, so that Jack could see her face. "I'm in a bad mood and I'm not getting up."

Jack looked at her, she could see concern in his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Sam groaned and closed her eyes tightly, trying to make the stinging go away. "I'm just tired."

"Tired?" Jack looked into Sam's eyes. She didn't look away. She knew that her eyes were probably red and puffy from all the crying, but that could also make them look tired. If she looked away he'd know something was wrong.

Jack sat down on the edge of her bed. The covers didn't crease beneath him, which meant he wasn't corporeal. Sam always wondered how he was able to sit down in a noncorporeal form. She never asked though, and right then she really couldn't have cared less.

"Did something happen?" he asked, sounding as concerned as he looked.

Sam shook her head.

"You know you can tell me if you're not okay?" Sam nodded. "'Cause that's why I'm here. To make sure that you're okay."

"I know," Sam said, feeling slightly guilty for not talking, but not enough to make her speak.

Jack nodded. "Okay. I'll leave . . . call me if you need me though, okay?"

"Okay."

"For anything, right? Nothing is too trivial. You can call me if you only need a tissue or something."

Sam forced herself to smile a little. "Okay . . . thanks."

Jack smiled at her kindly, then disappeared, leaving her alone to bury her face in her pillow once again and cry some more.

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