Mommy
By LadyChippy
Summary: A two-shot. Samara tells about the three people that she loved most. Her mommies.
It was a test. All of it. It was a test to see who'd make the perfect mommy.
Only Rachel passed.
My real mommy tried. I know she did. She listened to me when no one else could even hear me.
I told her to kill me, because I could tell that I was one day do something bad. I was going to hurt someone, and I didn't want to. I didn't want hurt anyone. Not at all.
So she tried to kill me. She was going to drown me.
But I hated the water. Even being near it made me feel awful. I believe it has something to do with my real father, but I was never sure.
I couldn't help it. I had to cry. The water was making me feel pain all over. I wanted to get away.
I should have just kept my mouth shut. Then they wouldn't have taken me away, and put my mommy in that awful place. That dark place.
Then my second mommy adopted me. I knew she would love me. I knew it.
By then, I had self-control, so I knew I wouldn't hurt her. I wouldn't hurt my new Daddy, either.
But Daddy didn't like me. He liked those horses, and for that, I hated those horses. I thought that if I got rid of them, Daddy would love me.
One day, when Daddy was riding one of his horses – his favorite one – the horse suddenly died right there. Daddy fell with it, but the horse broke his fall, so he lived with a few scratches.
I only wanted the horses to run away, but I made a mistake. Either way, the horse was out of the way.
Daddy was upset, though. He knew that I did it. He knew. Mommy defended me, and they argued while I had to stay in my room. I think I only made things worse.
I never sleep. Never. I thought that was normal, and that when I got older, I would become tired like everybody else.
So I roamed the house. Most of the time, I would watch static dance on the television, or watch Mommy and Daddy sleep and then leave before they woke. I didn't want to scare them, after all.
Soon after the horse incident, Mommy began to see things in her head. These were bad, scary things that made Mommy cry and scream whenever she saw them. Daddy got upset. He said these images were my fault. He said I was hurting Mommy.
I knew it. Something was indeed wrong with me. I couldn't control it like I thought I could. These images must of come from my head, and made their way to Mommy's.
Later that week, Daddy took us both to an institute. The doctors there would not let me see Mommy. They kept asking me questions, and when I answered, they said I was a liar.
"Samara?" Dr. Scott would ask. "Why don't you sleep?"
I looked down at my hands folded in my lap. I thought of why I sat in the chair opposite of the bed and stared into nothing.
"Because," I answered simply, "I don't want to."
"But you have to sleep," he argued. "You need sleep."
Why do I need to sleep, I wondered. I had never been tired before. I had never slept. It was just the way it was.
Another time, he asked me about my pictures.
"How did you make these, Samara?"
He held up x-ray like photos of things – things I had seen in my head.
I only shrugged and glance at him, "I just see them in my head, and then… they just are."
"Don't lie to me, Samara."
I didn't understand. I wasn't lying. It was the truth.
"I want to see my Mommy," I told him.
"Not until you tell us the truth."
"But I did tell the truth."
"Stop lying, Samara. Look at me when you're talking."
"I want to see my Mommy. Where is she?"
"She's busy right now. You can see your mommy and daddy later."
" I don't want to see Daddy."
"Your Daddy loves you, you know."
"Daddy loves the horses." I paused. " But… he doesn't know."
" He doesn't know what?"
I didn't answer. I could only look at my hands with a smile.
"Samara?"
His voice had a hint of shakiness. He was scared. I only smiled without looking at him.
"Everyone will suffer…"
From then on, I stopped talking. Why talk if they didn't believe me? I wasn't a liar. I wasn't, and I wanted my Mommy.
They also began giving me medicine that made me sleepy. Before I knew it, I would be getting tired on my own. I was sleeping on my own.
They finally let us go sometime many days later. I pretended to sleep in the back seat of the car as Daddy drove us home.
"She can't stay, Anna. She can't."
"But, Richard! She my child! I don't want to hurt her! I don't want to lose her!"
"And I don't want you hurt anymore. She keeps putting those images in your head, and I won't have it!"
"But where will she go? I don't want to leave her back at the orphanage!"
"There's a perfect spot up in the barn. It will make the perfect little room for her. She can stay there."
Mommy didn't argue back. I could tell that she didn't want me in the barn, but there was nothing she could say. I didn't really mind; as long as Mommy wasn't hurt. Everyone else could suffer.
I hated the barn though. The horses, the kept me awake. That night, I was back to staying awake. I was back to never sleeping.
I hated those horses more then ever. They wouldn't shut up. They needed to die. They needed to suffer.
Later that morning, I heard Daddy yell at me from below. During the night, one of his horses died. It was my fault, he said. All of it. It was my entire fault.
More horses died as the weeks went on. Daddy took away my ladder so I couldn't 'go down and kill them'. They still died, and soon Daddy came back every two hours to make sure they were still alive.
Mommy gave me my later back. She let me come down so I could wash my self, and use the bathroom. Sometimes, she would let me spend sometime outside while Daddy was away. I liked to sing by the well we had. I sang as I watched the sun rise and set in the horizon.
That didn't last to long, though. I could sense something bad was going to happen, so I began avoiding Mommy. It wasn't her that was going to get hurt, though. It was me.
One morning, as I watched the sunrise, Mommy came up behind me. She put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Isn't it beautiful, Samara?"
I gave no answer. My stomach turned as I waited for her to do the bad thing. The thing I knew that would happen.
As she quickly put the bag over me, I realized that it was what needed to happen. If I died, Mommy would no longer hurt because I could not put those things in her head. It would make her better, and that would make me happy.
So I didn't struggle. I willing let it happen.
"All I ever wanted… All I ever wanted was you, Samara."
I wanted to cry. I wanted her, too! I wanted to live happily with Mommy! I didn't want to hurt her.
As she pushed me down, I tried to struggle. She looked over to see me looking right back up at her. I tried to tell her that it was okay, that I loved her too. I tried to tell her that I forgave her for killing me, and that I was sorry for hurting her. But nothing would come out of my mouth. It made me sick. It made me want to cry.
She had tears in her eyes as she reached down at me. She called out to me, and told me she loved me and that she was sorry. Before I knew it, the cover of the well was being pushed over, and I was alone. Alone in the dark. That dark, awful place. Just like my real mommy.