PART SIX

I knocked again but there was still no answer so I turned to leave. Suddenly there was a shout of "Hang on!" and the sound of footsteps running. The door opened to reveal a very scruffy looking Paul. He was wearing wrinkled clothes, which looked like they had spent the past month screwed up on the floor. His hair was sticking in all directions and his eyes were red. He looked surprised when he saw me.

"Um … hi" I said. "Have I come at a bad time?"

"Ah, no. Not at all. Come in." He moved so that I could go in, then shut the door behind me. I looked at him closely.

"Are you sure this isn’t a bad time?" I asked.

"No, it isn’t. Do you want a drink or something?"

"No thanks, I’m fine." I sat on the couch and Paul joined me after getting himself a glass of water.

"Sorry about the state of the place. I haven’t really had a chance to tidy anything, including myself. Actually I just woke up" he said.

"Sorry."

"Oh it’s okay, it’s late anyway. I’m still trying to catch up on some of the sleep I’ve missed in the past few weeks or so. How are you doing?"

"I don’t know, okay I guess."

"Well you’re looking good," Paul said as he looked at me.

"You’re lying, but thanks."

There was only silence for a bit. It was really uncomfortable, which was sad. We used to be able to just hang out … now neither of us seemed to know what to say.

"Paul," I began, "I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in like this."

"Of course not, you should know that."

"Thanks. I just … I needed to talk. I’m so confused."

Paul moved to sit next to me. "It’s okay," he said. "If you want to talk, cry, anything …"

"I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m so sorry." I said.

"At the hospital?"

I nodded. "I didn’t want to hurt you but I thought that it would be easier if you weren’t there. I thought that maybe if I … Oh I don’t know what I thought. When you left that day, did you come back here?"

"Yeah. It was killing me, seeing you like that and knowing that not only could I not help you, but that you didn’t want my help. Did you really think that? That no-one would care if you died?"

"No, it wasn’t that. I just thought that … you’d get over it. No-one would be to blame, only me. It just hurt so bad, I couldn’t stop thinking about Scott and how he’d still be alive if I’d done what Steve wanted right away."

"That’s not true. You don’t know that if you went along with Steve that he wouldn’t have turned around and killed us anyway. You can’t keep blaming yourself for everything that happened." He paused for a bit. When I didn’t say anything he went on. "What are you doing in Sydney?"

I told him about staying with my parents for a while. We talked for over an hour. I told him about the baby, and how confused I was. Paul just let me rant on, although I’m sure that not a lot of what I said made any sense. I just said what I was thinking, and considering how mixed up my thoughts were, it must have been hard for him to follow. In the end, the only thing that made sense was that I was that I didn’t know what to do … about anything. There was only one thing that I was certain of, and that was that I missed being able to talk to Paul, to spend time with him and not have to worry about anything. I didn’t tell him this though, I couldn’t.

Finally I looked at my watch and stood up. "I really have to go, I’ve got an appointment I have to get to."

Paul stood as well. "Will you call me?" he asked. I nodded. "Sam, you know that you have a lot of people who care about you. You don’t have to go through this alone." Paul took hold of my hands.

"I know. Everyone keeps telling me that they understand what I’m going through."

"I understand that you’re in a lot of pain, I know this is hard for you."

"Have you ever gone to bed praying that you don’t wake up?" Paul shook his head. "Then you have no idea how hard this is, because that’s the only thing in my mind every night."

PART SEVEN

The past two weeks had been very difficult. I had been seeing the counsellor every day, and I think it was helping. I had made it through the past three days without crying, and I was even thinking about dying less. I had seen Paul a couple of times, but things just weren’t the same. It was always a little uncomfortable.

"Well?" Mum asked as I climbed into the car.

"Everything’s fine, no damage." She thought I was just in there for a check up, I still hadn’t told anyone else that I was pregnant. "Mum, can you drop me off somewhere? There’s someone that I want to go see."

"Sure, where?"

I gave her Paul’s address and twenty minutes later she dropped me off outside his building. I hadn’t called, so I was hoping that he was home. I went up to his door and was about to knock when I heard voices inside. Paul was talking, and then I heard a woman laugh. Then there was just silence. I turned around and left before anyone could see me.

When I got home I told mum and dad that I was going back to Adelaide. They complained a bit, telling me that I wasn’t ready, but I was determined. I called the airline and booked my ticket then went upstairs to pack.

The next morning I sat on my bed, my bags sitting on the floor in front of me. I picked up the phone and held it, looking at the numbers. I had a feeling that it was the wrong thing to do, but I called Paul’s number. It rang a few times then the answering machine clicked on. I waited for the beep.

"Hi Paul, its Sam. I just wanted to say thanks for your help and to let you know that I’m going back home. You have the number if you ever want to call … so I guess … umm … never mind. Goodbye Paul." I hung up the phone, picked up my bags and went downstairs.

PART EIGHT

"Thanks." I paid the taxi driver and headed upstairs.

"Kelly?" I called as I opened the door. "Are you home?"

"Sam, is that you?" she came running out of her bedroom. When she saw me she gave me a huge hug. "Wow," she said. "You look great, so much better!"

"Thanks, I feel a bit better." I filled her in on what had happened in Sydney and she told me all the neighbourhood gossip.

"So," she finally asked. "What about Paul?"

"What about him?"

"You didn’t mention his name once. You were in the same city as him for two weeks, I’d have thought that his name would at least pop up in conversation once."

"Well I guess we aren’t all that close any more. I only saw him a few times and it wasn’t the same."

"Sam, I’m sorry. I know how much you cared about him."

"Yeah, well I’d be a fool to think that my actions wouldn’t have changed things, especially after what I wrote in that letter to him."

"What letter?" she asked. I told her about what I had written, leaving out the stuff about the baby. She looked at me sadly. "You really thought you were going to die didn’t you?"

"Yeah. And I would have too … anyway. I just miss being able to talk to him. It’s so stupid, I mean I only met him just a few months ago but we were so close. And now…" I let my voice fade away, not able to continue. All I could do was sit and stare at the floor.

In the past twenty-four hours I had felt myself slipping. It was as if I was just numb, unable to really feel anything. I don’t know what set it off, whether it was finding out about the baby or hearing Paul laughing and talking with some woman. It couldn’t be that though…it couldn’t. I had no right to be jealous. I just knew that I had to come back here. Beyond that I had no thoughts.

"Sam, are you okay?" Kelly asked. She was worried, it was obvious.

"Yeah" I said, trying to sound normal. "I’d better go unpack." I stood up.

"Okay, well I have to go out for a bit. If you need anything I’ll have my mobile. Call me if you have to, okay?"

"I’ll be fine" I said. "Go!" She smiled at me and waved goodbye as she left. I picked up my bags and went into my room. When I got inside the door I froze. The room was exactly the same, nothing had been moved since the day I should have died. Paul Bear and the photo of me, Scott Tim and Paul were still lying on my bed. The empty wineglass stood on the bedside table, remnants of the red wine staining the bottom.

Tears spilled over my lower lids and fell down my cheeks. I just stared around the room, remembering in an instant the pain that made me want to die. It began to overtake all other thoughts and feelings until pain was all there was. I went over to the bed and sat down, picking up Paul Bear, crying uncontrollably. I lay down, holding him close and feeling the soft fur on my face.

"God," I thought, "I don’t know what to do. I hurt so badly, please make it stop…please." I shut my eyes. "Please God … just let me die."

PART NINE

For the next two weeks I simply existed … nothing more, nothing less. I got up in the mornings, did some uni work in an attempt to keep busy then went to bed at night. It was as if I was simply going through the motions. I had no desire to do any more, to visit people, to go out. I knew Kelly was worried, she kept asking what she could do to help, to make me feel better.

Since I’d been back I hadn’t heard from Paul. Well I had, but not really. He had called but I’d let the answering machine get it. He left a message saying that he hoped I was okay and he wished that he’d got to say goodbye. I erased it before Kelly could hear it. I had also received two letters from him, both of which sat on my desk, unopened. I’m not really sure why, but I just couldn’t bring myself to read what he had to say.

It was now Sunday afternoon. I was lying in bed with all the curtains closed. I had only been out of bed a couple of times, just to go to the toilet. I could feel it … I was giving in. I slowly dragged myself out of bed and got Paul’s letters off the desk. I went back to bed and held them in my hands, which were shaking. I studied the front, Paul’s familiar writing. I ripped open the first letter and began to read.

It was pretty much just general chit chat, asking how I was going and filling me in on what he’d been doing. He told me that Tim and Mikey said hello and want to know when I’ll be visiting again. The second letter was quite short, just asking why he hadn’t heard from me. He ended it by asking me to call him. I put the letters back in their envelopes and put them on the floor. Then I rolled over and shut my eyes, trying to shut out the pain I felt.

I don’t know how much longer it was before Kelly came home, I heard her call out. When I didn’t answer she knocked on my door then came in.

"Sam, are you awake?" she asked.

I rolled over and looked at her. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Well I am. So you can go" I snapped. Kelly looked at me in shock, I’d never spoken to her like that before. She left and shut the door. Some time later I heard her leave the flat.

I was aware that I was being really unfair to her, very selfish, but I didn’t care. As far as I saw it, it was her fault that I was still here. If she had come home at her normal time that day, I’d be dead now and wouldn’t have to be going through this any more. I just felt so awful, about everything. I really didn’t want to be here. Maybe if I could pin point the exact reason that I felt like this then I could fight it, but I couldn’t. Everything was just merged together, which made it all worse. Even if I could, I don’t know if I’d want to fight it.

I dragged myself out of bed again and went out to the kitchen. I picked up the phone and stared at it for a long time before very slowly dialling Paul'’ number. I stood, listening to it ring at his end, trying to figure out what I was going to say.

"Hello?" It was a woman’s voice.

"Umm … hi. Is Paul there?" I felt sick and hoped that I dialled wrong.

"No, he’s not here right now. He shouldn’t be long though, can I take a message for you?" Damn!

"No, it’s okay. I’ll try again another time" I lied.

"Okay then, bye." She hung up and so did I.

I felt as though I had just been kicked in the stomach. Why did I feel like this? We were only friends, nothing more and after the way I had treated Paul I had no right to be jealous or upset. At least that’s what my head kept telling me. If only I could get my heart to listen.

PART TEN

"Oh … umm … hi. What are you doing here?"

"Well it’s good to see you too Sam." Paul said.

"I’m sorry, of course it is. Come in. Can I get you a drink or something?"

"Yeah, water would be great," Paul said as he put his bag down and sat on the couch. I got two glasses of water then joined him, handing him one of the glasses.

"I’m sorry, I must look awful. I only just got up," I said, avoiding looking at him.

"Yeah," Paul grinned. "I kinda figured that out when I saw you. So … how are you?"

I looked at the floor. "I don’t know, okay I guess." This was a flat out lie and I had a feeling that he would know it. But if he did he didn’t say anything.

"Have you started working on the show again yet?" I asked, wanting to talk about anything other than myself.

"No, we start again in a couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to it, I’m getting restless doing nothing."

"It sounded like you were keeping busy. I thought you were doing some recording."

Paul looked at me. "So you did get my letters," he said in a low voice. "Why didn’t you answer or call?"

"I tried calling, but you weren’t there."

"I was hoping to hear from you. Why did you leave Sydney so suddenly? You didn’t even say goodbye properly. All I got was a message on the answering machine."

"It just felt like the right time to come home," I said, still looking at the floor.

"And was it?" he asked.

"I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter now does it?" A wave of nausea suddenly hit me. "Oh God, I’ll…" I ran into the toilet, just making it in time. I knelt on the floor, my head over the bowl as I threw up the water I had just drunk. I cold hear Paul outside, asking if I was okay. I stood up, flushed and tidied myself up, washing my face and rinsing my mouth. Then I opened the door. Paul was standing in the hall.

"Are you alright?" he asked again.

"Yeah, this is pretty common now," I said.

"Why? What’s wrong? Are you sick?"

"Paul, calm down. I’m fine, it’s just morning sickness."

"Oh, so you’re…"

"Yeah. I’m still pregnant. Seems like I don’t really have a choice any more." We went and sat back down and I told him about the tests and what they had shown.

"Samantha, I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay," I said, trying to smile. "At least it’s one less decision I have to make. I wish everything else would be that easy."

Paul looked at me closely. "Sam, you’re not okay are you?" I could feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes. I didn’t say anything. "Samantha, talk to me, please. Kelly called me. She told me you’ve just withdrawn from everything."

"She what? That’s why you’re here?" I should have known that he wouldn’t come to see me, only because someone asked him to.

"She’s worried about you. So am I. That’s why I’m here. Because I care about you and want to help you … if you’ll let me."

I didn’t know what to say, there was so much going on in my head. There was only one thought that was clear, and it had been there since I left the hospital. I had pushed it away before, but this time I verbalised it.

"I miss you."