Enchanted Pictures

Sam’s POV:

We rode in silence, the horror of the entire day replaying in my mind.

“Sam what is this? If he won’t tell me, you will!”

I stared numbly down at the ripped picture in Louis’s big hands; there was no great excuse I could come up with for this.

“Sam?”

I peeked up at his infuriated face, anger crinkling his eyes, “That’s me.” I whispered out, as I watched millions of emotions flit by in the eyes of my best friend, judgment befalling me immediately.

He crushed the picture in his hand and threw it away abruptly, “I’m taking you home, we’re leaving this place right now.” Was all he managed to say to me.

I recalled Harry’s reaction, worse than the reaction of my best friend. How he watched me leave, everyone making their snide comments down the hall, and all he did was stand there, no admitting it was him in the picture too, he just let me crash and burn on my own.
I sighed to myself, watching the trees whiz by, “Are you mad at me?” I finally asked Louis.

“N-No, why would you think that?” he stuttered out.

“Because you rushed me away, and haven’t uttered a single word to me on my way home. You’re kinda acting like my dad right now.”

He became quiet again, and finally rushed out, “No, I’m just…surprised is all.”

He was clearly unhappy and not willing to admit it. I gazed at him sliding his hands through his messed up hair, he always did this when he was upset. I reached out grabbing his hand, “Lou, it’s still me, don’t think of that picture please. I don’t want my best friend thinking…horrible things about me too.”

He squeezed my hand lightly, “I’m not thinking that.”

“Thanks.” I whispered, as we pulled into my driveway.

“Pick you up the same time?” he asked, a little distracted if you wanted to be honest.

“Yeah.” I mumbled back, hopping out of his old truck and making my way to my house. I hurried in and made a beeline straight to my room, so my parents wouldn’t ask questions why I was home so early.

Slamming the door, I threw myself on my bed. The soft fabric cleaner scent reached my nose, comforting in its own way, the way that Harry should have been, the way Louis should have been, but no one was on my side today. The tears fell harshly, as I buried my head into my comforter, silencing my pitiful cries.

///////////////

I woke up, from pains shooting through my legs as I noticed them dangling numbly over the bed, still dressed in my school clothes. Pushing myself up onto the bed fully, I noticed the blackened spot where my mascara leaked everywhere, everything flooding back to me quickly.

I crawled out of bed, not wanting to go to school at all, as I slowly changed into a new pair of clothes. I shuffled my way down the hall and into the kitchen, where both of my parents sat at the table, silence filling the air. It was odd to see them both here, when my dad should be at his job, “Good morning.” I choked out, my throat dry from last night.

“Sam sit down.” My dad’s voice boomed over to me.

I looked between him and my mom nervously; they appeared to have as bad of a nights sleep as I did. Dark circles pooled out under their eyes, my mom’s hair wasn’t perfect and neat like she usually had it, instead it was fluffed up in the back as if she was tossing and turning all night. My dad’s after shadow not shaven to perfection for his job, as he clenched tightly to his coffee mugs handle.

“What’s going on?” I squeaked.

“Sit.” My dad barked out, as I immediately sat down.

He slid something to me, as my heart raced, knowing full well what I was about to see. I opened the envelope, my fingers shaking, as I slid the picture out of its spot.

I stared in horror as I saw myself yet again, on my knees, blowing Harry. I shoved the picture violently back into the envelope and tossed it away from me.

My mom wouldn’t even look me in my eyes, as a vein was popping out of my dads throat, “Where did you get this?” I finally spoke up.

“Someone left it conveniently for me at work yesterday before I got off. Just laying there on my desk, for the world to see.”

“Is this really you Sam?” my mom whispered out.

I gazed over at the envelope of death, who sent it to my parents and why?

“Yes.” I flicked my eyes down to my hands that were nervously moving around in my lap.

“Were you forced to do this? Is someone bullying you?” my mom got angry, raising her voice.

“I don’t know.” I cried silently.

All I did was love this guy, wanted it to work out, but nothing seemed to want to come out right when it involved him.

“I’m taking this to my lawyer to figure out what is going on.”

I jumped up at that, “Daddy no! Please don’t!”

“We can’t have these pictures floating around like candy! Someone is clearly bullying you!” He screamed, as spit flew from his mouth and onto the table.

“I don’t want anyone else to see this picture.” I cried, feeling vulnerable, like my naked body was out there for the world to see, even though I was fully clothed in the picture.

“It’s a little too late for that Sam, you should have thought that before you went and did this.

He grabbed the envelope and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving me speechless and cold, like he slapped me in the face.

Notes