For as long as she could remember, Sam had always known Jack Anders. She despised that fact. He was the high school's golden boy. Varsity football captain, led the Vikings to their consecutive state championships. The worst part about him was that he knew that he was the golden boy. He treated everyone but his football buddies and whichever cheerleader was on his arm for the week like dirt under his shoe. Somehow everything he did was more relevant to the town than anything. To everyone on the outside looking in, he could do no wrong. If he failed the big Physics test, Coach would use his amity to "constructively edit" his grade. What did that teach him? Because he can catch a ball, everything will be handed to him on a silver platter. Sam wasn't naïve. He knew that no one could be so perfect and not have one downfall. She felt this overwhelming want to diverge the secret that she knew was brewing right next door. 

The next day,When she glanced out her window and saw that he had left the curtains open, she knew that this may have been her only chance. She casually swayed over to her desk, which faced his window, and pretended to study, glancing up every few seconds. It was about the third time that she glanced up that she noticed a shiny vial. Then she saw the syringe and had to look away, needles had always made her squeamish. She couldn't tell exactly what he had shot into his arm from her distance. She saw him run into the alley between their houses with his gym bag and throw the vial in garbage can and drive away. The second he was far enough away that he wouldn't come back and see her, she was out the door and over the fence. She saw all the proof she needed. A label that read anabolic steroids. 

Everything that happened after that day progressed in a hazy, slow motion of events. Sam remembered showing Coach the vial with shaky hands. She remembered hearing Jack being called to the athletic center. Then hearing the tell tale sign of Jack's dad in the parking lot, the slam of anEscaladee door and loud grunting, all which could be heard through the open window in her art room. 

She never found out his actual punishment, but from the view of her window, she knew it was harsh. Turns out that he was kicked off the team and lost his scholarship to his father's alma mater, not that his family needed it.

After all this she should have felt something, anything, but she didn't. And then she began to think. Through every event in her life, she never really felt anything. In that moment she felt something, terror. She didn't want to live life as an emotionless drone. She really wondered "Am I really the void of emotion"