Fallen
If there was one thing anyone who knew Sam Puckett - it was that she was stubborn. She did what she wanted, no matter the consequences or the rules. Her reputation easily proceeded her wherever she went. Sam's arrest record also followed her like a plague, attesting to her reputation. Misdemeanor after misdemeanor unraveled themselves in files throughout most of the Seattle area. It was really only a matter of time before she did something foolish enough to get her locked up for the long haul. The police that knew Sam had even begun a raffle on it. The bets were easily in the hundred thousands.
Carly was her guardian angel though. The brunette was Sam's voice of reason in many a situation that could have easily ended badly. However, Carly couldn't be there all the time and Sam was prone to slipping into dark rages that attributed to the majority of her criminal history. It was one of the those times that finally got Sam into the most trouble she'd ever been in - assault with the intent of murder. She was a woman of twenty when it happened and the blonde knew there would be no slaps on the wrist for her anymore. Do the crime, pay the time.
Of course, if Sam had known there was a camera in the building across the street, trained exactly where she beat the man who had tried to grab her ass in the park, she probably would have considered at least beating him somewhere out of view. Yet logical thinking always failed her when she was angry and this was why she had been arrested time after time. Still, she pleaded her case at the courthouse, saying it was out of self-defense. Apparently, however, it stops being self-defense when you leave the scene and return with a baseball bat to finish what you'd started. The judge, a middle-aged woman, hardened by years on the bench frowned as she considered what an appropriate punishment would be for the young woman.
Five years for assault with a deadly weapon and then ten more years of probation when she finally got out. Good behavior would get her out in four and a half years. Maybe.
It was devastating to not only Sam, but Carly too. The nineteen year old could only cry and try to fight the guards as she tried to lunge herself at her long time friend and only recently lover. In shame, Sam could only hang her head as the bailiff led her out of the courtroom and to her fate for the next five years. Carly's pitiful cries and screams would haunt her for months after, keeping her awake many of those nights.
As it was, Sam had been the last thing left in Carly's life. Her grandfather died when she was sixteen. Freddie and his mom moved out of state for Freddie's college two years before. And Spencer had gotten himself killed after a sculpturing accident involving scissors and heavy panes of glass several months after Freddie left. Carly's father was still away touring the world on duty, so the brunette was very much alone. Sam had been the only one left and now that she was gone, Carly felt empty and alone. The apartment that had been so full of joy and mischievous mayhem was nothing but a quiet shell of it's former self. Carly fell hard when reality hit her.
Several years of on and off again visits, Carly showed up less and less as the time went by. Sam's mother came once or twice a year but never stayed long, only to tell the blonde that she loved her but she was a good for nothing. When Carly stopped showing up just short of four years into Sam's sentence, the blonde cried herself to sleep every night for several weeks. She had seen the decrease in weight and the more and more haunted look that etched itself deeply into the once beautiful face. It was still beautiful, but Carly had stopped caring. There was little makeup on her face and her hair had become increasingly long and unkempt. It broke Sam's heart more then any words could ever have.
Guilty nights were spent alone in her cell after Carly's disappearance. Fingers in her pants as she rubbed herself, trying to picture her life if this hadn't happened. How Carly would be the one to cool her heated skin with soft lips and tongue, trailing paths up and down her body. That it was Carly's mouth biting her nipples and not her own fingers pinching them. How they would be in a large soft bed, Sam running her hands through Carly's hair as she went down on her, tasting and probing with her tongue, until Sam's fingers were buried into the cottony sheets around them as she cried out for the brunette. Then it would be Sam's turn to touch and caress soft skin, drowning in the scents of lavender and baby powder that lingered on Carly's body. The blonde could almost taste Carly's mouth and skin as she tried to hold onto the visuals as her body arched against her own probing fingers. When it would be over, Carly would cuddle close to Sam, the smell of sex and perspiration in the air, intoxicating them. They would laugh over some corny joke one of them would crack as they drifted off to sleep.
Only the reality was, Sam would rock and whimper quietly in her small hard bed, very much alone. The only smells in the air were of institutionalized cleaners, sickening in their odors, and the odd smell the prison's laundry detergent left on Sam's clothing. The act was only to bring herself to an orgasm, even if it was usually weak and pathetically, so rid herself of the sexual need that occasionally tingled in her body. It had nothing to do with enjoyment. The visuals in her mind were pretty for the moment, but they drained her afterward. What she had just done always felt like a small crime in itself. When she was done, her fingers sticky and still inside her, Sam would cry into her lumpy pillow, wondering where Carly was at that moment.
If she'd known where Carly was, Sam would have killed herself from self-loathing. If she was to see the way Carly danced on the stage, grinding hard against the silver pole. The mostly creepy men ogling and cat-calling the fallen beauty, would have made Sam puke on sight. If she knew the way the men touched the best thing that had been in her life with their dirty fingers as they groped flesh before giving Carly a few extra bucks as she ground on their laps, she would have killed the men. And if Sam knew that Carly was so alone and had become so dead inside, she would have prayed to God that the guards wouldn't find her until she had succeeded in hanging herself by her itchy blanket in her small cell.
Sam didn't know though, thankfully, and she didn't pray. Carly slipped further from her grasp with every day that ended and began anew. When Sam's time was finally over, she found nothing to return to. Carly was gone by then, swept away by the cruelty that life had shown itself to be. What she found was a broken woman, dead in every way but the ability to breath. Sam cried for her lost, even as Carly reached out blank, unknowing fingers to her. Whatever was left of their love only lingered by the smallest of threads, tied invisibly to their pinkies. They couldn't change the past and while the future looked dim at best, Sam and what was left of Carly, had the present.
Jail is a harsh place as it picks apart a person's life with nothing more then time.
-End-