CHAPTER 2

4 YEARS LATER :

Samantha's POV :

I hate it. I hate my life. I hate myself. I don't get it. I really don't get it anymore.

Why do people hate me so much? Am I that ugly and fat?

"Sam! Where are you?!" Sammy's yelling bringa me out of my thoughts. I blink and wipe off the tears with the back of my hand.

Since I didn't answer, he calls me one more time,"Sam? Where are you? Are you in the washroom?"

"Yeah, I am in the washroom." I reply quickly. I look in the mirror and see my horrible state. My eyes are red from all the crying and if someone looks closely,  they can clearly see that I was crying.

I decide to splash some water in my face so I can atleast look decent. I dry my face with the towel and look at the mirror one last time.

"All right better." I whisper to myself. I take a deep breathe and walk out of the washroom.

"Why are you in the washroom? Sam, you kn-" he stares at me for a moment with worry in his eyes. 

It's as if a button inside him clicked and he quickly begins asking me tons if questions.

"What the? What happened? Why are you crying?" Guess I couldn't hide from him.

I look down thinking what I can answer. 

After sometimes, Sam exlaims with anger, "Did anyone do anything at school? Who is it? Billy? Mitch or is it Bianca? Tell me who is it, Sam. I will teach them a lesson!"

He guessed it right but I am not gonna bother him by telling about them. So I just choose to lie.

"Sammy, calm down." I put my hands over his shoulders and make him sit on the bed.

I take a sit beside him and continue, "It wasn't any of them. I just had a tough day. That's it"

"Stop lying to me. I am your twin. Your other half. I know when you are lying and when you are not. So, don't try to lie with me. Tell me, Sam. Please . I might be able to help you. Please,  Sam." He pleads to me.

I sigh and decide to tell him. "Bianca and her friends had bullied me and had called me names."

Even thinking about is making want to curl up in a ball and cry my heart out.

"Names as in?" He asks me. I look at him and see that he is worried.

I sigh. I didn't want to make him worried. Atleast not him.

"You know, the regular names. Ugly. Fat. Useless. Waste of space. And stuff like that." I take a deep breath that I was holding on.

I take a deep breath and continue, "It's okay, actually. Don't worry." I tell him with a smile. A fake one.

"Okay?!" His sudden tone cause me to flinch.

"Its not okay at all, Sam. Sam, you are the prettiest and nicest girl I have ever seen. You are perfect just the way you are." He tells me softly.

"What was the line again?" He murmurs to himself and begins to think really hard. Like really hard.

"Remembered it!" He exclaimed with joy.

I stare at him weirdly. Confusion clearly written in my face.

He clears his voice and sings, "Baby, you are perfect just the way you are..."  But midway through the song, he forgets it.

"What was it again? Whatever." This time, he doesn't think too hard and just gives it up.

"The main point is that, you are perfect just the way you are." He tells me seriously.

"I guess so. But thanks, Sammy. You can always make me happy no matter how sad I am." I tell him with a genuine smile.

"That's why I am your twin and-" he begins to say but I cut him off and complete it for him,"Soulmate."

"Yeah, right." He tells me. But he is sort of making a weird face like he doesn't want to agree.

"Don't make that face. You know that i am right." I tell him with a pout.

"Obviously." He tells me while pulling my cheeks.

"Whey whop eet." I try to tell him. Emphasis on try.

"What? I didn't understand you." He tells me.

I push his hand away and tell him, "I was telling you to stop it."

I touch my cheeks protectively. He jsut chuckles at this.

"But your cheeks are so soft and squishy. It would be pity not to pull it." He tells me. I stare at him blankly for his lame joke.

He chuckles and sees the time and gets up. "Anyways, mom is calling us. So, let's go." He tells me.

"Yeah, you go ahead. I will come shortly afterwards." I tell him.

"Kay." He replies and goes downstairs.