lacrymosa.
Out on your own
cold and alone again
can this be what you really wanted, baby?
Blame it on me
set your guilt free
nothing can hold you back now
Now that you're gone
I feel like myself again
grieving the things I can't repair and willing...
To let you blame it on me
and set your guilt free
I don't want to hold you back now love
I can't change who I am
Not this time, I won’t lie to keep you near me
and in this short life
there's no time to waste on giving up
my love wasn't enough
And you can blame it on me
set your guilt free, honey
I don't want to hold you back now love
"Why the hell are you here?" Mike frowned, his words slurred a little. He was obviously drunk. He stood on the porch step. "The party's inside."
Sitting on the porch step, Sam looked up at Mike. Her long wet black hair soaked with the rain, her brown skin had raindrops run down her cheeks. Well, Mike couldn’t see if they were tears or not. Sam managed to smile.
"I'm not dumb Mike, I know that," Sam replied, frowning at the beer bottle in Mike's hand. "Have you been drinking? You're only seventeen, you shouldn't be drinking."
Mike and Sam were at Billie's house for a new year's party. Sam's mom was very reluctant to let Sam go, but Billie persuaded her. But he didn't mention that the party was unchaperoned, there would be a lot of smoking, drinking, drug use, and unsafe sex.
Sam and Mike were best friends. They've been in each other's class since kindergarten. They were friends ever since grade three. The inseparable duo soon met Billie two years later. They were ten, well, Sam was nine. Her birthday was just a couple of days ago-December 25th, how lucky-and she had just turned seventeen. She always was the youngest one of the trio...and most depressed one.
"Come ooon, we're going to start counting down sooon," Mike tried to persuade Sam. "I don't want you alone out here."
"Mike, I'm fine," Sam insisted.
"Sure..." Mike said slowly. He walked back into the house; he paused before he closed the door behind him. He looked over his shoulder, and glanced at the depressed seventeen year old. Mike hated seeing Sam like this, so alone, so...un-sammy-ish.
Sam closed her eyes as the neighborhood started counting down. It was going to be a new year, a fresh new start. Everything was going to be like it was when she was fourteen. Everything was going to be perfect like before. At least, that's what Sam wanted.
"40...39...38...37...!" the neighborhood screamed. Sam heard the front door creak open, but didn't bother looking up.
"30...29...28..."another voice said softly. The planks of the porch creaked with every step the person took.
"10...9...8...7...6...5..." Sam said softly to herself, her tears stinging her eyes. She felt someone wrap his arms around her waist. She looked over her shoulder. It was Mike.
"4...3...2...1," Mike whispered in her ear, he softly kissed her cheek. "Happy new years Sam."
'Back at ya perv," Sam slightly grinned, as Mike let go. "Whatever happened to I'm sorry Sam, can't we just be friends?"
"Huh?" Mike blinked. "I haff nooo idea what you'reee talking about."
"Hey Homeslice!" Billie suddenly burst through the front door. Tre always called Sam "Homeslice" cause he thought "Sam" didn't fit her. Now it was rubbing off onto Billie. Like Mike, he was also drunk. "Happy new years!" he yelled. Actually, he seemed high more than drunk.
"Mm," Sam mumbled. "Happy new years Billie. Are you drunk also?"
"Saaam,” Mike suddenly said. “Can you drive me?”
"You always get drunk," Sam complained. "And I'm always Ms. Taxi driver." She yanked Mike's arm towards her car.
"Well, you never get drunk," Mike pointed out. "You never drunk, so you have to drive. Really Sam, common sense."
“Well, don’t drink. You shouldn’t be drinking in the first place, you’re underage,” Sam said irritably.
“Okay, okay,” Mike laughed as he climbed into the car. “Don’t spaz on me.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam muttered as she got into the driver’s seat. There was a sudden throb in her head. “Ow.” she moaned.
“You okay?” Mike asked, clutching her arm. “Do you have another migraine? You sure you can drive?”
“Mmhm,” Sam nodded. The car pulled out of Billie’s driveway. All through the ride, Mike still held Sam’s arm firmly. “Mike? We’re here, you can let go of my arm now.” Sam suddenly said.
“Oh,” Mike mumbled, snapping out of his trance. “G’night Sam.”