Untrusting…Always

Sammy or Samantha as her adopted family called her, sat alone in her bedroom that was in the atticof the middle class house. She looked out the window onto the coast of Santa Carla CA. It was a busy, loud place. But due to growing up in Chicago, she was used to it. She thought all about what happend to have brought her here. Her mother and Father, ma and pop, said that they would be going out to the store and would come back soon. Sammy was 16 at that time (three weeks ago).

Her folks left and she was alone in the house. It never bothered her that her parents left so much, she knew that they loved her and she loved them. After a hour she tensed just a little but wasn't worried. If they were in trouble they would call from a payphone or something. She simply waited. It was five hours later and Sammy was asleep on the green sofa in the living room. Thetv was blaring out music videos Sammy would have hated were she awake.

Suddenly there was pounding on her door.

"What the hell?" She mumbled to herself while wiping the drool from her face. She got up and headed to the door. When she opened it, she was shocked to see a police officer standing there.

"Good evening Miss. Candys."

"Good evening officer. Is there something I could do for you?" Sammy had a sneaky feeling that made her stomach turn.

"Yes Miss. I'm sorry to inform you but we've found your parents car about five miles from here. The car was smashed into a tree and there were no survivers." Sammy felt as if the floor just fell out from under her. She couldn't believe it at all. How could she. He said it all so casually.

"Did you just say that my parents are..."

"Dead Miss." At that moment it would have been expected that Sammy break down into tears and beg that it not be true. But then and now she never shed a tear. It hurt so much that tears wouldn't help her in anyway. It seemed unreal but Sammy knew the terrible truth.

The next week was the funeral. At the cementary she and her two best friends Jason and Megan were the only ones to attend. All dressed in black from head to toe as they always did. But for this one time, wearing all black had a purpose for them, a sad purpose. The rest of the week was all a blur. People she didn't know came and took everything (almost everything) out of the house. Sammy kept all her mother's and father's books that took them a life time to collect.

She of course kept everything of her's and all the books. Then a woman from child survices came and took her away. Sammy wanted to know why she had to leave and the simple answer was that she was sixteen and couldn't be allowed to live by herself. Then she ended up here in Santa Carla.

She would be the only kid in the house. The Shane's kids had left about two years before. At first Mr. and Mrs. Shane seemed kind and concered. Soon Sammy learned the truth. It started with Mr. Shane's drinking. He drank sometimes all day and became to drunk to stand. Other time's however he didn't drink enough and became voilent. It was just his wife but Sammy became an object of abuse.

Mrs. Shane however wasn't completely innocent. Whenever Mr. Shane went to hit her Sammy stood up to him but Mrs. Shane never returned this favor and Sammy usually went to bed with bruses and cuts all over her body. Tonight he delt her a powerful blow to her lips and right eye. Her lip was bleeding still and her eye was burning with pain. They were arguing down stairs. Sammy listened carefully to the shreeks and bangs. She waited until the sound moved to the back of the house.

She got up and changed from black pants and a black shirt to oversized ripped jeans and a black tank top. As she ran down the stairs she grabed her jean jacket from the stair's banister.