Smile

Chapter 22: Pain

People believe they can get a happily ever after. They believe their life could end just the way they'd planned: with a husband/wife and kids and the perfect job to perfectly fulfill their perfect family. They believe they won't have regrets when they become older. They believe they won't be scared of what could happen next.

When I heard my phone ring at two in the morning to see Will's name pop up, I'd immediately felt like something was wrong. When I picked up to hear him sobbing on the other end, I felt my heart drop.

And now, here I was, at four in the morning, still in my Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms and black sweatshirt, waiting in silence with Will and Gabe and Tony, and Amanda and Thomas, and Noah and Kelsey, and Logan's brother, Oliver. Hoping that we would receive the best news we could get at the moment: that he wasn't dead. That the great love of my life, whom we'd all believed was getting better, wasn't dead. That he'd failed. That he hadn't taken enough pills. That Will had gotten there soon enough.

He'd texted me. He'd texted because he'd known I shut off my text notifications during the night. He had thanked me. Of all the things he could have said, he'd only said two things; that he loved me and that he thanked me for making his life a little longer. He'd texted Will as well, to tell him to tell everyone else he loved them and that he was sorry. Will usually shut off his phone during the night, but he'd been up late writing his English paper. I'd never loved English assignments more.

Logan's father had come a few hours ago, but he saw us all in the waiting room and left. Oliver didn't go after him, and none of us had seen him since.

"Today's Clara's birthday," Oliver had told me after half an hour of waiting. He'd been sitting next to me, but his eyes were set straight ahead.

"I know," were the only words I'd managed to get out of my mouth.

His note was still clutched in my hand; I hadn't let go of it since Will had given it to me a little less than two hours ago. I remembered every word, as I'd read it too many time to count:

To those whom I love and love me back, I'm sorry for disappointing you. If only you could feel half the pain I feel everyday, maybe you'd understand why I did this.
-Logan

"Anyone here for Logan McCloud?" A blonde lady with a clipboard asked. We all rose and she frowned, approaching us. "Family only, I'm afraid. And only two at a time."

"I'm his brother," Oliver spoke up as the rest of us sat back down, "But I think these two should go first," he motionned to Will and I.

The nurse shook her head. "Family only."

"They might as well be," Oliver's voice rose a little with a faint chuckle, and I found myself liking him a little more. "Just tell me if he's alright and if he's awake. Then let them go in."

The nurse sighed. She was fighting a losing battle. Might as well give in already. "He's awake, but I'm afraid we'll have to send him to a recovery center. He'll get better, though. They usually do."

Oliver nodded, "Alright, thanks."

The nurse nodded back, and motionned at us to follow her. Will and I both rose from our seats and I found myself sore from sitting on those uncomfortable chairs for such a long time.

"So, how is he?" Will asked the nurse.

"He woke up thirty minutes ago. He will recover, but not without help, I'm afraid. He was hospitalized a few months back for anorexia. We made a mistake by letting him go that time. We won't do the same mistake twice."

Will's frustration was clear. "He wasn't suffering from anorexia; he was depressed! His act was just too good for any of us to notice until it was too late."

But I had noticed. His hunger fading, his desire to be with someone all the time, the mood swings... I'd just been too blind to see it. We'd all been.

"Here it is," the nurse snapped me out of my thoughts as she stopped infront of a door; Logan's door. "Good luck," she muttered before walking away.

Will's eyes lingered on me for a second, and I nodded. He took a deep breath, then opened the door, and my heart stopped beating. There he was. Alive, but he might as well have been dead. His sad, shadowed eyes, his sickly gray skin, all the machines hooked to him. There were so many I wasn't sure which needle lead to which machine.

"Logan," Will whispered, all the hurt and betrayal he'd been bottling up revealing themselves in one single word. His best friend's name.

That's when I snapped. Forgetting all about my thoughts and desires of telling him how much I loved him and how much he'd scared me and to never do that again.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" I screamed so loudly I felt like my vocal cords would snap. Logan's gaze set on me, but he seemed unfazed; like he'd known this would happen.

"Chloe," Will protested quietly, grabbing my arm.

"Let go of me!" I exclaimed and snatched my arm right out of Will's grip, then turned to glare at Logan, who stayed as still as a statue as tears streamed down my face. "How dare you? How dare you do this to me; to all of us?" My vision was blurry and my throat felt tight. I wanted Logan to apologize, or to at least try to make us understand... I just wanted him to say something. Anything. Anything to prove to me that I was wrong—that my boyfriend was fine and that I'd been there for him through it all. But I knew I was lying to myself. Because there he was, looking at me after he'd finally given up on life—on us. I kept going, the words tumbling out of my mouth. I couldn't find a way to stop them, and I didn't want to. He deserved to hear this. "Don't you remember how you felt after you lost Clara? And she didn't make the choice to die, Logan! Losing someone you love to suicide..." I shook my head. "It hurts like a motherfucker, Logan," I whimpered, then rose my voice back up, my jaw clenched as if it could keep the tears from falling. "And if you dare think I'll forgive you, then you're lying to yourself."

"Chloe..." Will tried again, but he might as well have been talking to a wall. He and I both knew that I wouldn't go back on my words.

I shook my head again, my eyes still locked on Logan's unwavering gaze. "Go fuck yourself, Logan McCloud."

And just like that, with tears in my eyes and my hand over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing, I walked out of Logan McCloud's life.

-/~\-

The end.

... For now. The sequel is called Faded and will be published as soon as I can figure out a good way to end it.

By the way, I'd originally planned to leave it at that and not make a sequel, so don't kill me.

- ProfessionalDork