AN: I'm gonna update a few old stories today, I decided I would start
with the saddest first. -Jess


My phone started ringing, I didn't reconize the number, but I picked
it up.
"Is this Fredward Benson?" A guy's voice said.
"Yeah, it is, why?"
He sighed, "Your friend, Samantha Puckett is in a coma at Seattle
Hospital and she might not make it."
"O-Okay." I hung up the phone quickly and put it down.
What Have I Done?

"Hey Freddie, can you do something for me?" Carly was giving me puppy
dog eyes.
"Uh, sure what?" I stared at her.
She bit her lip, "I think we should get Sam to leave us alone."
"CARLY! Tomorrow's her birthday! And isn't she your best friend?"
She shrugged, "I thought she would change Freddie, and she didn't. Now
we need to give her a taste of her own medicine."
She smirked evilly.

Carly said if I went along with her plan, we could date.
I can't believe I said yes.
I almost want to kill myself or Carly right now.
But, instead of that, I should go visit Sam.
I grabbed my keys and started walking to my car, when I bumped into
Carly, she looked...happy.
"OMG! Freddie! Did you hear? Sam is gonna die!" I growled and pushed
her off when she tried to hug me.
"What's wrong Freddie-Bear?"
I rolled my eyes, "We're not friends anymore Carly, I care about Sam,
and I thought YOU were different."
I ran off before she could do or say anything.

Finally, I arrived at the hospital.
"Samantha Puckett." I told the lady at the counter.
She rolled her eyes and looked at her computer, "Floor 5, room 17."
I walked over to the elevator and pressed the button.
"Freddie Benson? I love you!" A girl who was about 13 hugged me.
The elevator door opened but she didn't let go, so I pushed her off
and stepped in, she did too.
"What are you doing here? Is someone hurt?" I sighed.
"Yeah, Sam is..."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
The elevator dinged. 3rd Floor.
"This is my floor, good luck." She kissed me quickly and walked out as
the elevator doors closed.
I leaned against the elevator wall and thought.
Even though that girl was nice, that kiss still wasn't as good as the
one with Sam.
I walked out of the elevator and walked to room 16.
"This is it." I murmured as I opened the door slowly.
Sam was on a hospital bed, she was pale, her arms had bandages on
them, and she had 5 IVs hooked in.
"Damn." No one else was in the room.
I grabbed a chair and pulled it next to Sam's bed and sat down.
She actually looked peaceful, it was weird to see because she was
usually causing me physical and emotional pain.
I held her hand gently and stared at her.
The doctor came in a few minutes later and explained everything.
Sam had been found by her mom bleeding, with a razor and a empty
bottle of sleeping pills in her bathroom.
She called 911 and they came and brought Sam here.
Sam was in a coma and only had 25 hours to wake up or else she would
The chances of her waking up were 75 percent.
After the doctor left I started crying.
I wanted Sam to wake up, I wanted her to call me names, to hurt me,
steal my money, embarass me, and most of all I wanted her to kiss me.

After a while I took a nap, and when I woke up I heard a loud beep.
I saw her heart had stopped, I pressed the doctor call button.
"Come to room 16 quick! Her heart stopped!"
A few seconds later 6 doctors came in and one of the nurses dragged me
to the waiting room.
I was crying and trying to go back to Sam.

It was about a hour later when the doctor called "Samantha Puckett."
I walked over to him and waited for the news.
The doctor looked nervous, "I'm sorry, but Samantha is dead."
I must have heard him wrong, "W-What?"
"Sam is dead, I'm sorry. But her last words were, 'Tell Freddie I love
him.' I thought you would know who Freddie was."
I went crazy.
"SHE ISN'T DEAD! YOU'RE LYING!" I ran over to Sam's room and then I saw.
Her eyes were wide open and she looked lifeless.
I fell to the ground, crying hard.
She was the love of my life, and she thought I hated her.

One Year Later:
I stared at Sam's grave.
I can't believe it had already been a year, a year since she died, a
year since the day she turned 17, a year since she said she loved me.
There were flowers all around her grave.
I pulled out my pocketknife, I wanted to die here, on top of her
grave, since I knew my life would be incomplete without her.
The night on the fire escape was the last thing I thought of before I
stabbed the knife threw my heart.

AN: Please review. Even though this story is probably the most
depressing thing I ever wrote. :/