I...don't own iCarly.

Every night, I have the same dream.

It always starts the same way. There are two people: me, holding a destroyed laptop, and Sam, with a smirk on her face. And we're facing each other in Carly's living room.

Then, the shouting starts.

"SAM! I can't believe you just did that!"

Sam replied, unruffled. "Calm down, it's no big deal."

I was furious at her nonchalance. "You GLUED my laptop shut! HOW is this not a big deal?"

"Dude, it's just a computer. It's not like someone died or anything."

"Just-just a computer? Sam, I saved up my allowance for a long time to get this. Now it's completely MESSED UP!"

"Well, you can still use it to keep your papers in place."

"Hardee-har-har. A thousand dollar paperweight, Sam? Are you kidding me?"

She burst out laughing. "A THOUSAND DOLLARS? What the hell, Fredinand, you are a nerd. A thousand bucks for a stupid, hunk of plastic?"

"SHUT UP! I don't care if I'm a nerd! All I know is that you are going to fix this."

Sam grinned smugly. "I kind of used industrial strength adhesive. Your laptop is screwed."

"ARGH! Why do you have to always do this stuff to me? You're such a pain in the neck."

"Yeah, well, you're a pain in the ass, Benson."

"Is that the best you can come up with? Dumb blonde."

Sam looked surprised for a second before retorting. "Momma's boy."

"Nut case."

"Limp noodle."

"Vicious monster."

"Butt munch."

"Delinquent."

"Major Dorko."

I thought for a moment before I said it. "Unlovable wench."

Sam gasped. Her eyes narrowed. "Take it back."

"No."

By now, Sam was seething. The anger in her eyes drilling into mine. She raised a fist and waved it threateningly. "Take it back or else I will punch you so hard, you won't be able to digest food correctly for weeks."

For some ridiculous reason, I felt like I was invincible. I feel as though I have the power to defeat the mighty Samantha Puckett. And before I can stop myself, I tear her down.

"No. See, Sam, that's all you can do. Bully. Bully and be mean to people. I've had enough of it. Everyone's had enough of it. We all know it's an act. Sooner or later everyone leaves you. Everyone deserts you. Jonah, Pete, your Dad. You keep bringing up that my mom is insane. Well, at least she cares about me. When was the last time your mom cooked you a nice warm dinner? Face it, Puckett. You're all alone in this world. So you build up walls. An act. You make yourself a tough girl. You bully and distance yourself because you don't want to feel pain. Because you know sooner or later, they're all going to leave. Which is why you've been downright horrible to me. Carly and I have already received our college acceptance letters. Where's yours? You're afraid of being left behind again. So first you separate from me. Then later, Carly. You know what, Sam? Congratulations. You've done it. You've successfully destroyed whatever connection we had. I want you out of my life. Out. Never talk to me again. I'm fed up with you and your torture. Leave."

I finish.

Sam stands there. Her eyes are brimming with hurt. She trembles.

Then I see it. A tear. And as if time had slowed down, I see it leave the safety of its home. I see in travel down her smooth, pale cheek. I see it reach her jaw line. And I see it fall. I follow it. Down, down, down. Until it hits the ground. It makes a barely audible splash.

And my heart breaks. I realize what I have done and I can't breathe. The guilt quickly fills my body. I want to say I'm sorry, but all the words I think of sound hollow after what I said to her. I gather what little feeling I have left to raise my head...just in time to see a fist heading toward my face.

And before it makes contact,

I wake up.

Sweating and tangled in the sheets.

Sam has been gone for three months now. Before she vanished, she left two letters. One for me, one for Carly. I was there when Carly opened hers. She read it and looked at me with sad, angry eyes. We haven't talked since.

I haven't opened mine. I don't want to. I don't deserve to. I have placed it in under my pillow. Sometimes I wonder if it causes my dreams. And I have the urge to get rid of it. To be rid of my dreams. To be free.

But I can't.

Because just as Jacob Marley had his chains, I have my dreams. They remind me of what I said. What I did. To her. I have to bear the burden of my actions. This way justice is served. A life for a life. Her suffering must become my suffering.

And so every night, I have the same dream. And it will stay that way. Forever. For Sam.

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