The Lies He Spoke

THIRTY ONE

TW: description of self harm. please do not read this chapter if you are disturbed or triggered by this content - i will have another chapter out this Tuesday that is better for everyone to read. 

disclaimer: I dislike this chapter, I had it written at the end of January and I just couldn't make it work and it's so hard to get this right so that's why we're here in March and I still feel bleh as all hell about it. Please forgive me for offensive/insensitive characterization and also please give me constructive criticism as I'm inexperienced but that is not an excuse to be writing insensitive things. If you don't want to publicly comment you can also message me. I will do my best to edit accordingly.

OLIVIA

Olivia always had nightmares. After Logan told her he was counting the number of times she woke him up at night because of a nightmare, she told herself she wasn't going to go to his room again so she wouldn't stress him out more than he already was.

But then she had another horrible dream that someone made her watch while they hurt Logan badly, and she woke up breathless and disoriented.

She knew that rationally, nothing could have happened while she was sleeping, but she got out of bed and walked down the hall to his door, just in case.

But on her way there, she stopped at the bathroom door, where the light was on inside, glowing under the crack at the bottom of the door.

Olivia leaned against the wall opposite the door. The last time she had found Logan in the bathroom at this time of night, he'd been in a horrible state.

What was he doing in there?

She sat silently for a few minutes, chewing on her fingernails, counting the scratch marks in the bathroom door. It was silent behind the door.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore in that creepy dark hallway by herself imagining and reimagining her nightmare coming true just inches away from her behind the closed door.

"Logan?" she said, her voice loud and scratchy in the silence.

She heard a low fuck, and a clatter of something in the sink, and another muttered fuck.

"Logan?"

She got down on her hands and knees and put her cheek against the floor to look through the crack under the door so she could maybe see what on earth was making him swear like that.

She couldn't see much but what she did see was that there was something red on the white bathroom tiles.

Panic squeezed her chest.

"Logan? Are you okay? Is that blood?"

There was still no response.

Was he passed out? Is that why he wasn't answering? But hadn't he just murmured something? Couldn't people pass out from blood loss? What if, while she stood there frozen, he was on the other side, passed out, the life seeping out of him onto the floor?

Her thoughts got worse and worse. Her mind began to conjure ghastly images. Goosebumps crept into her skin. Her nightmare was going to come true, three inches away from her, and she wasn't doing one. Single. Thing.

Olivia ran down the hall into the kitchen, took out two toothpicks from the cabinet, and went back to the bathroom.

The bathroom lock was a basic, everyday push lock and when she pushed both toothpicks into the small hole, the lock clicked open.

She shoved the door.

"What the fuck - get out of the fucking bathroom!"

Olivia's mouth went numb.