I was awakened at three in the morning by quiet sobbing coming from Samantha's room. I panicked and threw open my bed curtains before I went running into Sam's room. What I saw broke my heart. She had found my sketchbook after it had fallen out of my bag. She was looking at the pictures I had drawn in art class (the one with us cowering away from the couple fighting, and the one of our parents' graves) and crying. She had also dug out an old framed picture of our parents with us. At the time the picture was taken, I was one year old, and Samantha was seven. Our parents died when I was two and Samantha was eight. This photo was taken only a year before they died.
"Sam," I whispered sympathetically. She snapped her head up to look at me. She hadn't realized I was standing in the doorway, so she quickly closed the sketchbook and knocked the picture onto the ground, obviously hoping I didn't see.
"Sam, look at me," I said, as I walked over and sat in the bed next to her. "I know Mom and Dad's death hit you just as hard as it hit me. I know that you were faking strength so that I wouldn't view you as weak. I know how much you wanted me to be able to look up to you and see nothing but strength. You don't have to hide it anymore, Sam. I'm here for you. I faked strength all of my life because I didn't want you to feel like anything was your fault. You practically raised me. I didn't want you to blame yourself. It's not your fault that I'm broken. It's not your fault that either of us are broken. We've been faking strength since we were little, and I think it would help us both so much if we just, for one night, dropped the act and let it all out."
"I'm fine," Sam murmured between sobs.
"Sam, you and I both know that's a lie. We're both broken. Just drop the act. I think we'll both heal better if we both admit we're broken together. Come here. Let it all out," I said as I scooted closer to her.
Eventually she gave in, and we both shared some old memories of Mom and Dad. Of course, being only two at the time, I didn't have many, but I enjoyed Sam's stories. We laughed and cried at the memories. We also talked about some of the abusive and scary families we had been adopted by. By the end of the night, we were loudly sobbing on each other's shoulders. It felt good to finally get it all out. I'd had this all bottled up in me my entire life. Before we knew it, three hours of talking and crying had went by, and it was now six o'clock in the morning. I noticed Samantha yawned, and so did I. I was tired. I curled up in Samantha's bed like I used to when I would think about Mom and Dad when I was little. Sam curled up next to me and thanked me for finally letting her drop the act, and I thanked her right back.
"I love you, sis," I whispered.
"I love you too," she whispered before we both drifted off to sleep. I guess I wouldn't be going to school today. Oh well. That just means one less day with Gerard.
*~Sam's P.O.V.~*
I smiled as Lily fell asleep. I really felt a lot better now that I let that all out. When I was younger, I had decided that I would bottle up all of my emotions, because I was the only person Lily had to look up to. I didn't want her to see me become weak. If she saw that I had no hope, I worried she'd lose all hope too. So I locked everything away, hoping Lily wouldn't turn out like me. Although, today I learned that it's okay to be broken. I smiled and eventually drifted off to sleep next to Lily. I figured that she could stay home from school today. Missing one day wouldn't kill her.
*~Gerard's P.O.V.~*
I hadn't seen Lily at the bus stop today. Oh well. Maybe she was getting a ride from her sister again. I sighed as I stepped onto the bus and struggled to find a spot. Whenever I tried to sit with somebody, they'd quickly put something in the seat to block me from sitting there. Nobody wanted to sit with the "emo."
