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ICan't Do This - Chapter 2 free porn video
iCarly: iCan't Do This - Chapter 2: All I See Is You
My lungs feel raw and red and I'm gasping in air but it's not enough. I can feel my eyes start to prickle and sting but I won't cry. I refuse to cry. And I slam my hand into the wall just to distract myself, the sear of pain blinding me as some of the stitches pop open and I feel a gush. The edges of my vision are white, and the pain gets sucked in with a whoosh and it feels almost good. It's enough to calm me down, because Carly is right behind me, and I thank god I'm a faster runner than her.
But it's still hard to explain the blood running down my fingers and soaking my bandages. She stops and looks at me, and whatever she was going to say dies on her lips. And she's giving me that look again. Like she doesn't know me. Like she doesn't understand. And she's been looking at me like that more and more often, but it's not her fault.
I curl my fingers into my hurt hand, letting the blood run back into the bandage, and there's nothing I can say. Because I can't explain to her why seeing her kissing some guy made me run away. And as she's hugging me because there's nothing either of us can say, I just wanna say, "I love you. Why can't you see that?" But I can't.
I can only hug her back and try to keep my blood off her.
"I'm sorry Sam, I should've told you, but we've only been seeing each other for a week now." She's trying to explain herself to me. But she doesn't have to. I sit on her sofa and eat a Fat Cake, only because it gives me something to do with my hands and mouth.
I shrug, "It's fine. No, it's great. We haven't had much time to hang this week anyways. And you're telling me now."
And she smiles and touches my knee, so I know everything's okay. But then she talks about him – no, gushes – about him and I start to feel sick because I can hear how far she's gone with him in her voice. And maybe I'm exaggerating about that, but I can see them together in my head and it's making me angry again. But I plaster a smile on my face and make all the right sounds.
Because she's Carly, and she deserves happiness. And I'm Sam Puckett, and I don't deserve her. And I push everything into a hard little ball that sits in my gut like a ball bearing and I be her friend. Finally she shuts up about him, and I can start breathing again and let my lips relax. She starts playing with my hair and I worry. She's been quiet too long now, and Carly likes to ramble, I mean sometimes you just cannot get the girl to shut up, so it's never a good sign when she's quiet. It means she's thinking, and nothing good ever came out of people thinking.
"Sam...." Her voice is slow, hesitant and I turn to look at her.
Her eyes are on my face, all big and dark, and she's chewing her lip, looking concerned. I feel that hard little ball bearing tremble and heat up, start to expand, but I shove it back together. I can't fall apart now. I've worked too hard to keep her.
"What's going on with you? Is- is it your mom?"
And I laugh softly, because it's never been my mom. That's sort of what she's known for – not being anything. And I wish I could tell her – tell her that I love her, and that it's killing me. But I'm scared. And I know, I'm Sam Puckett and I'm not afraid of anything! But I'm scared of this. So it's easier to just look away and pretend things are fine. It's only bravery if you're scared to do it in the first place. And I've always been a coward.
There's still blood in the studio when we go up to do iCarly. Messy smears that have been wiped up and then rushed away from. I never did live up to my promise to clean it up. Carly's eyes slide away from it and she flicks her eyes at me again. Freddie's already there and looking a little green.
"What's the matter Freddork? 'Fraid you might catch something off me?"
He's looking at me, and he never did find my jokes funny.
"No," He sneers, before his voice goes quiet, "It's just... there was so much of it. I thought you were gonna die."
I jerk a thumb at my chest, "It takes more than a little glass window and massive blood loss to defeat Sam Puckett!"
Carly brushes past us, gesturing at the floor, "Careful guys, there's still some glass lying around."
We start iCarly, and it's good. It's a good episode. And it's funny, because pretending to be all bubbly and happy actually does make me feel a little better. It feels like it used to, when we'd do a show and then hang out drinking Peppy Colas while I ate Carly out of house and home.
Until he came over.
And I know Carly must've said his name about a bazillion times, but I didn't bother to remember it. And everything's wrong again. I feel tired and my hand aches in the cold outside her building and all I want to do is go up and kick that guy's ass. But I can't. And it makes me feel trapped, because when I want to do something, I do it.
But I can't.
So I go home, make sure mom is still breathing, pick up a few bottles and crawl into bed. And I think about her touching him, and try to pretend it's me she's touching, that it's me she's kissing. And all I want is that release, so I slip my hand in my pants and fuck myself hard until she's all I can see, but when I cum it's weak and all I can see is that she's not here, and she's not touching me.
That it's just me, alone, crying into my pillow and trying to breathe.
My lungs feel raw and red and I'm gasping in air but it's not enough. I can feel my eyes start to prickle and sting but I won't cry. I refuse to cry. And I slam my hand into the wall just to distract myself, the sear of pain blinding me as some of the stitches pop open and I feel a gush. The edges of my vision are white, and the pain gets sucked in with a whoosh and it feels almost good. It's enough to calm me down, because Carly is right behind me, and I thank god I'm a faster runner than her.
But it's still hard to explain the blood running down my fingers and soaking my bandages. She stops and looks at me, and whatever she was going to say dies on her lips. And she's giving me that look again. Like she doesn't know me. Like she doesn't understand. And she's been looking at me like that more and more often, but it's not her fault.
I curl my fingers into my hurt hand, letting the blood run back into the bandage, and there's nothing I can say. Because I can't explain to her why seeing her kissing some guy made me run away. And as she's hugging me because there's nothing either of us can say, I just wanna say, "I love you. Why can't you see that?" But I can't.
I can only hug her back and try to keep my blood off her.
"I'm sorry Sam, I should've told you, but we've only been seeing each other for a week now." She's trying to explain herself to me. But she doesn't have to. I sit on her sofa and eat a Fat Cake, only because it gives me something to do with my hands and mouth.
I shrug, "It's fine. No, it's great. We haven't had much time to hang this week anyways. And you're telling me now."
And she smiles and touches my knee, so I know everything's okay. But then she talks about him – no, gushes – about him and I start to feel sick because I can hear how far she's gone with him in her voice. And maybe I'm exaggerating about that, but I can see them together in my head and it's making me angry again. But I plaster a smile on my face and make all the right sounds.
Because she's Carly, and she deserves happiness. And I'm Sam Puckett, and I don't deserve her. And I push everything into a hard little ball that sits in my gut like a ball bearing and I be her friend. Finally she shuts up about him, and I can start breathing again and let my lips relax. She starts playing with my hair and I worry. She's been quiet too long now, and Carly likes to ramble, I mean sometimes you just cannot get the girl to shut up, so it's never a good sign when she's quiet. It means she's thinking, and nothing good ever came out of people thinking.
"Sam...." Her voice is slow, hesitant and I turn to look at her.
Her eyes are on my face, all big and dark, and she's chewing her lip, looking concerned. I feel that hard little ball bearing tremble and heat up, start to expand, but I shove it back together. I can't fall apart now. I've worked too hard to keep her.
"What's going on with you? Is- is it your mom?"
And I laugh softly, because it's never been my mom. That's sort of what she's known for – not being anything. And I wish I could tell her – tell her that I love her, and that it's killing me. But I'm scared. And I know, I'm Sam Puckett and I'm not afraid of anything! But I'm scared of this. So it's easier to just look away and pretend things are fine. It's only bravery if you're scared to do it in the first place. And I've always been a coward.
There's still blood in the studio when we go up to do iCarly. Messy smears that have been wiped up and then rushed away from. I never did live up to my promise to clean it up. Carly's eyes slide away from it and she flicks her eyes at me again. Freddie's already there and looking a little green.
"What's the matter Freddork? 'Fraid you might catch something off me?"
He's looking at me, and he never did find my jokes funny.
"No," He sneers, before his voice goes quiet, "It's just... there was so much of it. I thought you were gonna die."
I jerk a thumb at my chest, "It takes more than a little glass window and massive blood loss to defeat Sam Puckett!"
Carly brushes past us, gesturing at the floor, "Careful guys, there's still some glass lying around."
We start iCarly, and it's good. It's a good episode. And it's funny, because pretending to be all bubbly and happy actually does make me feel a little better. It feels like it used to, when we'd do a show and then hang out drinking Peppy Colas while I ate Carly out of house and home.
Until he came over.
And I know Carly must've said his name about a bazillion times, but I didn't bother to remember it. And everything's wrong again. I feel tired and my hand aches in the cold outside her building and all I want to do is go up and kick that guy's ass. But I can't. And it makes me feel trapped, because when I want to do something, I do it.
But I can't.
So I go home, make sure mom is still breathing, pick up a few bottles and crawl into bed. And I think about her touching him, and try to pretend it's me she's touching, that it's me she's kissing. And all I want is that release, so I slip my hand in my pants and fuck myself hard until she's all I can see, but when I cum it's weak and all I can see is that she's not here, and she's not touching me.
That it's just me, alone, crying into my pillow and trying to breathe.
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