The knock sounded at 5 AM. I was awake. Small moments of sleep is all I could manage. I don't answer. It's the same thing every day.
The second knock sounds. I'm silent. I don't care who it is. They can't care enough to check on me.
Three. No answer.
Four. It starts to sound more desperate now.
Five. Why do they care?
Six. This one is harder than the others. Someone shouts at me," Logan Requiem! Let me in!"
Mattheo.
He knocks a seventh time. "I will knock this damn door down." Still no answer from me. He can't possibly believe he can get in the door.
Eight. A few minutes pass. I hear a click. The door swings open.
"Princess?" He calls in, before I see his face. His body comes into view. I stair at his pair of black converse, still laying on the floor. I want to answer, but my voice is caught in my throat.
" Logan Requiem. Where have you been all week? I have come by every single day, but no answer-" His words seem to have caught in his throat as well. A week? It's only been a week. It doesn't feel like a week. It feels like months.
His converse get closer to my face. I pull tighter into my little ball of despair. I see him lean down, and put a finger to my pulse point on my neck. I flinch. My ball disipates. I fall on my stomach.
Then, He puts the back of his hand to my forehead. "You're burning up." He says, mostly to himself," We need to get you to the infirmary."
I'm much to tired to raise my head, let along walk. "No." I respond, voice ruff from disuse.
"Logan," Mattheo sits next to me, pulling my head on to his lap," You are clearly to sick to think clearly. You are going to the infirmary."
"No." I want him to leave me alone. To walk out that door, and not look back.
He just sighs," You are going to the infirmary."
"N-" My response dies in my throat as I fall into unconsiousness.
....
I see blurry images as I feel myself being carried somewhere. By who? I do not know. It all goes black again.
....
Blurry People bustle around me. I hear beeps and something on wheels being wheeled around the room.
Someone is next to me. I feel a presense holding my hand. I must have been hallucinating because my mother was standing at the foot of the bed. She gives me a sad smile.
" Mom! No!" I screach, and everyone in the room stops for a moment. " No! No! No!" I continue to murmur no until a sting in my arm makes me drift further away.
Darkness.
....
Beep. Beeep. Beeeep.
I take a deep breath. My eyes are blurry. I blink. Everything is blurry. All I can tell is I'm in a white room.
I blink again. three. four. Sight is coming back to me. My head falls to the right. Someone sits in the chair beside the bed, holding my hand. five. It's Mattheo. He looks so tired. His curls still having the same bounce to them, though. I take a breath that sounds more like a death rattle.
He shoots up in his chair, leaning forward, and sqeezing my hand tighter. Mattheo looks worried. I look at him, suprising myself by having enough strength to give a slight smile.
YOU ARE READING
Requiem I Mattheo Riddle I
Fanfiction(Please don't read this book! I can't bring myself to delete it) Logan Requiem feels alone. Of course, she's not. She has her brother. Her best friend. Her boyfriend. But that doesn't stop her from thinking that she has no one who understands the s...
