This is the last of the introduction chapters. The next update won't come this fast, I'm afraid. I want to update a couple of stories beforehand.
Chapter warnings: Language, severe depression.
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Samantha: Wednesday, January 6th, 4:49pm. Week 1 of video diary.
(Recording)
"… I'm Samantha Quinn. I really don't know why I agreed to this. Liz reckons it'll be good to, you know, 'talk' about my feelings. She's reassured me that these videos will be shown to no one, but ourselves – maybe our parents – not that they give a fuck about us. I mean, we pretty much raised ourselves – no, that's incorrect. Liz raised us. No one raised her; she raised herself, while our loving parents focused on their careers. I mean, sure, they love us, but they have a shitty way of showing it.
Are you watching this, Mum and Dad? You two are shitty parents and I'm fed up with the both of you – we all are, but everyone else are too nice to say a fucking thing.
Were you here when Leo went through his first heart break? When Oliver got the living shit bashed out of him and had to spend a fucking week in the hospital? When Peter went missing, or when Luce and I found out that the same guy was screwing us?
And what about Liz, the girl fucking raising us? I mean, she's been cooking us fucking meals when she was nine!
Did you know that sometimes everything gets to be too much for her, and she'll just sit down and simply cry? It takes hours for any of us to calm her down and get her to agree to take the day off for once – I mean, she ends up getting up after trying to rest for half an hour and goes back to cleaning the fucking oven like nothing ever happened!
…
...
...
...
...
I think everyone's wrong. I don't think Oliver is the only one who needs help. I think I need help as well. I mean, I am just as angry as Ollie, but no. Everyone is focusing on him.
No, I'm not bitter about it or anything. I just… I know that everyone is worried about me. I've seen the videos and… I appreciate that everyone is worried about me. But really, I don't need their help. I just… I just need help. I need…
I don't know. Everything just hurts.
And… and yesterday I spent the whole day bawling my eyes out. Peter ended up finding me on the bathroom floor and simply held me as I cried.
I think… I think he saw it, but he didn't say anything. I appreciate it.
I… I need…
I'll talk to everyone when I'm ready.
I just…
I'm scared… o-oh g-god, I-I am so, s-so sc-sca…wugh! Uuuuuuh!"
(Cough, sob, sob, cough)
(Door slams open)
"Shit, Sammy, what the fuck- alright, alright. Let's… let's get you to the bathroom-"
"S-So-"
"Don't be. Let's just turn this silly thing o-"
(End of recording).
