Beyond the Lights (h.s)

Chapter Thirty-Two: Samantha

                   

Emptiness.

That's all I felt.

I didn't feel numb, sad, anxious, or angry.

I just felt empty.

The fucked up part was that when Greta had told me that my parents had died, there was a brief moment of relief. For just half a second I was okay with the fact that they were gone. No confrontation, no fighting, no heartbreak. They were gone and I didn't have to deal with any of it.

After I threw up on the lawn is when it all hit me like a ton of bricks. They were gone. All evidence of my flesh and blood was gone. First my son, then my parents. I couldn't catch a fucking break. The universe hated me. God hated me, I was sure of it.

She told me that they had looked for me. But for how long? How hard did they actually try? Were they as clueless as I had originally thought, or did they truly not know where I was? And Greta had the audacity to be mad at me. She knew them for all of five minutes.

That was another thing that was beginning to piss me off. I was the bitch for running away. I was the one who caused all of the hurt and the pain. I ruined everything, apparently. Did they even tell her the entire story? About how they were ready to disown me for the fact that I accidentally got knocked up?

Maybe I wouldn't have gotten knocked up had they actually taken the time to talk to me about sex. But who was I kidding? My parents would have never dreamed of sitting me down and having the talk. I had been taught from a very early age that abstinence was key, abstinence was the only way, there was no other. Sex education in school barely taught me anything, I was clueless.

The anger was beginning to set it. I was angry at them, at Greta, at myself. Would they still be here had I stayed? Or would they have died anyway? Could we have ever gotten past what had happened to us? Or would we have hated each other until their fateful end?

There was a time before I had realized that my parents were depriving me of everything that I had wanted. There was a time when I believed in everything that they had told me, and I held those values to my core. I was at the point now where I didn't think that God existed.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" Lou asked me. She was perched at the end of the bed. I didn't know how long that she had been sitting there, but I had heard her come in some time ago and switch off with Harry.

I shook my head and then cleared my throat. "I need to get to the venue. What time is it?"

"Oh, honey. The show has been going on for some time. They're letting you have the night off... considering everything," she explained.

No, I didn't need to lay here and think about it. That was the last thing I needed to do. I threw the covers off of me and stood, wiping under my eyes. "No, I'm fine. Let's go. We can still make it."

She looked a bit flustered and surprised by my reaction. "Um, Harry really wanted me to keep you here and keep an eye on you."

I gave her a tight smile. "I'm fine. Let's go. I'll call the car around."

----

Harry came off of the stage and his face fell once he saw me. He turned his attention to Lou. "What the hell is she doing here? I told you to keep her at the hotel."

"She insisted on coming. She's a grown woman, what am I supposed to do?" Lou retorted.

He turned to me. "Sam, what are you doing here? You should be...," he stopped, searching for the right words.

"Grieving?" I finished for him.

"Sam," he whispered.

"I'm fine. I had my meltdown and I'm okay now," I insisted.

He gave me a wary look. "Sam, you can't possibly be okay."

I was starting to get agitated. "But I am."

"Sam-," he started again.

"I'm fine. Let's just go, okay?" I snapped.

Harry shot Lou a final nod and then put his arm around my shoulder, leading me further backstage. Members of the crew couldn't seem to take their eyes off of me and no one was talking as we loaded into the cars to head back to the hotel. Harry snagged a car for just the two of us, and I knew it was because he wanted to talk without the others around.

Once we were settled in and the car started to move, I heard him sigh next to me. "Jesus, just say it," I spat.

He turned to me. "What is going on with you?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "I already told you-,"

"Fuck what you told me," Harry snapped. "Not even six hours ago you were... you were sobbing and sick over the death of your parents and then you were completely shocked and silent. Now you're just fine?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, Harry. I'm fine."

Harry shook his head. "You need to talk to someone. This isn't normal."

A scoff escaped my throat. "What do you want me to do? Grieve them? After all the shit that they put me through?"

"They were still your parents!"

"That doesn't mean that I have to love them or care about them. You know the whole story, you know about everything that they did to me, so why are you even questioning the fact that I'm not completely distraught over their deaths?"

He shook his head again and threw his arms up in the air, slouching in his seat and looking out the window. "Because... forget it."

I shifted in my seat, crossing my arms. "No, please. Say what you have to say. We both know you'll eventually do it anyway."

Harry turned back to me. "Because I know that there is a part of you that still loves them, even if it is deep down and buried under years of bullshit."

"I didn't miss my parents before and I don't miss them now. Their deaths do nothing but confirm that all of this is over and I never have to worry about it ever again," I seethed.

The look that Harry gave me is one that I will never forget. It was like he was looking at a stranger. "Who are you right now, Sam? This isn't you."

I turned back in my seat and faced forward, my arms still crossed. "It is now."