iDon'tHateYou

iCrushOnTheDemon

Freddie POV

I was sitting in my living room watching a Galaxy Wars movie but I couldn't pay attention to it. The previous night I had a really peculiar dream. Sam and I were dating in that dream. Now, I have had that dream before but usually, I wake up sweating. This time, I actually slept peacefully throughout the entire dream.

First I decided on asking my mom about it but if I tell her about my dream, it's likely that she would have a heart attack, and as much as I think my mom is a lunatic, I still love her and I wouldn't want anything bad happening to her.

***

Later that week, Carly, Sam, and I were walking back to Bushwell Plaza after a long day of watching Carly in a bunny suit, asking people if they wanted her to brush their teeth for free. Suddenly a huge taco truck came zooming by as we crossed the street. It almost hit Carly but I pushed her aside and it hit me instead. The last thing I remember was two blurry people asking if I was okay and then everything went black.

***

I opened my eyes and I was in the hospital. My arm was in a sling and my leg was in a cast. My mom quickly ran up to me.

"Oh, Freddie, you're okay!" She said.

"Yeah..."

"Come on, let's take you home," She said, handing me a pair of crutches.

***

The next day I was lying in my bed, feeling numb everywhere. My mom was in my room making sure I was okay when we heard the beeping of our doorbell.

"Oh, who is that?" I asked as my mom walked up to the camera device we had installed to see who was at our door.

"Ulch, what do you two want," Mom asked when she saw who was there.

"Can we please see Freddie," I heard Carly's voice say. Hmm, I wonder if "we" means her and Sam. Fat chance, I thought.

"No," Mom responded.

"Yes," I argued. "Let 'em in."

"Fine," she caved. "Leave your shoes in the hall."

"Please be nice," I begged to my mom.

"Of course," she said coldly. "Why wouldn't I be nice to the girl who tried to kill my son?" 

"Hello," said Spencer. 

"Hi, Mrs. Benson. How is he?" Carly asked when she entered the room.

"Broken. Damaged. But I see you look fine, isn't that nice?" my Mom anwered.

"Mom," I complained.

"And I see you brought flowers, which will only exacerbate Freddie's allergies," she said.

"Mom, I'm not allergic to flowers. 

"And you weren't allergic to Mexican food trucks, but look at you now. I'll take these flowers and I'll soak them in bleach," Mom said as she left the room.

"She's pretty upset," Carly said.

"No. Really?" I asked sarcastically. 

"How you doin'?" she asked. 

"Okay. Pretty sore," I replied. 

"Sore? You have a broken leg and your hand is all smushed, and it's all my fault," Carly said.

"It's not your fault." 

Yeah, it is. If I'd seen that stupid truck coming, you never would've had to--"