The Boy That Stole My Heart

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

     Things were good for a few weeks. We went about life doing our best to pretend that everything was normal. We went to school and watched a little ball even though it broke Logan's broken heart that he couldn't play in turn, breaking mine. His heartbeat had grown erratic, always too fast or too slow and he grew tired so easily. His lips were tinted a bluish color from his poor blood supply.
      About a month after the diagnosis he had to stop going to school after having a seizure in the cafeteria. Most of the school came to see him in the hospital. He grew sullen and distant but I never left his side, even when he suggested it.
     "I'm not going back to school, " I told my parents when I came home and found out Logan had another seizure while I was gone.
     Two months passed and Logan's health was rapidly declining, no sign of a new heart anywhere in sight. He couldn't control his bowls any longer and had to wear diapers all the time. When he started to fall, his parents moved the things out of their office and put his things downstairs.
     He would sit silently, looking out the window and I knew he was waiting to die.
     "You should go home," he would say but he didn't mean it. I could see the need in his eyes. The need to hear me say that I wasn't going anywhere.
     He began to fall, unable to walk more than a few steps at a time and I started changing him. I didn't ask and he didn't refuse, only laying there with pink cheeks while I cleaned him. Like a child, I would bathe him, soaping his hair and he would complain about soapy eyes even though it didn't burn.
     There was no one else in the world other than us. We weren't just in love. We were bonded. One simply could not exist without the other.
     His seizures grew worse and he stopped eating, his eyes dull and lifeless. He began to spend more and more time in the hospital and they had to put a feeding tube into his belly. I held his hand when they put in the catheter, having to stop him from ripping it out.
     He looked over at me one morning after he woke. "I wanna die Ellie," he said so softly.
     "Don't you ever fucking say that again," I snarled at him. "Life's not fucking fair so you don't get to just do what you want. You don't just get to die on me!"
     His smile was so sad. "I can't keep putting you through this. You have to let me go."
     I grabbed his hand and put it on my chest. "Do you feel that? It beats strong enough for both of us. So give up if you want... But I won't..."
     "I love you Ellie.... I'm so scared," he cried and I kissed him, his lips tasted like tears.
    
     "The chance of getting a new heart is about fifty percent with children given priority but in Logan's case, the Myocarditis has a twenty five percent chance of developing in his new heart too... So he is not at the very top of the list." My father explained after I questioned him about why it had been three months and we hadn't heard anything.

     Logan couldn't come home anymore. He needed constant care that only the hospital could provide and I quit coming home too. I would wash and change him. I would brush his hair. He always hated having messy hair even though it made him look so cute.With his tubes and IVs, I couldn't sleep on the bed with him but I didn't sleep anymore anyways, simply dragging the little couch over and holding his hand throughout the night. During one of the rare occasions that I did, I woke up the next morning.... And Logan didn't.
    "Logan is comatose..." The doctor said to us softly. "He most likely won't regain consciousness. I'm sorry but.. I think it's about time to say your goodbyes."
     I kissed him gently on the forehead, his mouth filled with breathing tubes, and leaned down to whisper in his ear.  "Forgive me Logan.... But my heart only beats for you."
     I found my mother out in the hall, told her that I needed to go home, get some things and if this surprised her then she didn't show it. I slipped out of my window and ran to Logan's house, looking through his moms' room. He had only mentioned it once in passing but I knew it existed.
     The gun was in the drawer by the bed, ugly and black, much heavier than it looked. I would do what I had to do to save Logan... I would give him the heart he had already stolen. It didn't take long to scratch out the note saying what I wanted done and shove it and the gun into my bag. As I came out of the room Linda was there, a sad look in her eyes.
     "Linda!"
     "Come here baby..." She said, sitting down and patting the cushion next to her.
     "Linda, I need to get back to the hospital.... You have to understand."
     She smiled softly. "I do Ellister... But I don't think you do."
     "I understand! I have to save him!" I was mad now, shouting. "I have to!"
     "Baby don't you see that you already have?"
     I began to cry and she stood, crossing the room to wrap me in her arms. "I can't live without him."
     "He can't live without you either... Your heart, even as big as it is, won't save him. It would only force him to do what you are trying to do now."
     I sagged in her arms, sobbing madly as despair engulfed my world.