A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Twenty Four : The Boy's Neighbour

The morning rays of the sun didn't quite reach me as I woke up spontaneously when Logan shook me. The curtains were still drawn and my room was dark. Logan's face was barely illuminated by the few streaks of sunlight that had managed to escape the barrier provided by the curtains. The sunlight spilled over his sea-coloured eyes and made it appear distinct.

I was still simmering with resentment for he had killed my poor Fred. "What do you want? Go away." I sat up slowly on my bed and rubbed my eyes.

"Joy, I'm sorry, but we have to go," he whispered apologetically, his figure towering over me and his hands awkwardly clutching my blanket. The blanket was covering my pyjama-clad body.

"What time is it?" I asked groggily and suppressed a yawn.

"Five thirty, I can go alone if you want. You don't need to come--- "

"No," I intervened quickly. "I'll come, but just out of concern. Don't think that I'm not mad about the demise of Fred anymore because I am. It was so wrong of you to kill him and wash him off in the bathroom and not tell me!"

"I stepped on him by accident and--- " he broke off and took a deep breath as if to calm himself. Of course, he saw no use in justifying himself because he was wrong. "We have to go Joy and pick my other stuff from the apartment. We can't be late."

"Okay, yeah," I huffed and moved my light blanket. "You go get ready and freshen up. It'll take me ten minutes."

He seemed to hurry, walking in jerky movements. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, do my business and take a quick shower. After I was dressed properly in skinny, dark jeans and a cotton t-shirt, I emerged out of the bathroom. Logan was already dressed in clean clothes and seated on my bed, a look of worry etched on his face.

"Calm down, okay. Think positive, you won't get caught. Don't worry," my words held no meaning to him because he was still the same. I gave up. "Alright, come on now."

I held his clammy hand and lead him downstairs. He was so anxious that he was tripping over air. I made him sit at the table and cut us fruits for breakfast. I supposed that his appetite has vanished since he was struggling to swallow.

I ate my own breakfast quickly, took my meds and guided him safely outside the door. "Let's go and grab your stuff. Then we can meet grandpa at the flower shop and he'll take us to the lighthouse."

He nodded and we tramped to the shop without uttering a single word. We planned on taking grandpa's truck which was parked near the shop. I held his arm and squeezed it in reassurance any time Logan would get sceptical about his creepy uncle lurking behind the trees. We arrived at the spot where the truck was parked. I unlocked the door and we both got in.

Logan drove the truck to his apartment, his watchful eyes scanning the neighbourhood. I didn't see a reason to be doubtful because it was six-thirty in the morning, but I didn't know his uncle either. He could be an early riser.

Logan pulled over a little farther from the apartment, positioning the truck right behind a large tree, so nobody would get suspicious. He cautiously stepped out and I followed him to the apartment, all the time Logan's eyes followed every move around him which consisted only of the fluttering of leaves as the cool breeze passed by. Nobody, except the milk and newspaper boy, was seen around the town this early.

The sun had just started to appear, it's slanting gold rays colouring the pale morning sky. The fluffy clouds seemed to part slowly, allowing the sun to shine and creating a sort of halo over the entire town. Then, there was the melodious sound of the robin singing, the dew-laden leaves on the trees, the squeaking noise of the milkman's bicycle, the earthy scent, the sound of the waves splashing . . . The last one almost felt like an imagination . . . How I longed to be near the ocean right now!

Sunrise at the ocean was ever so refreshing . . . The sun slithering up the horizon and mildly smearing its tawny tinge on the sullen sky. The waves calmly crashing on the sand and then gently receding. The smell of the salty air wafting around, the grainy sand cool under the bare feet, the light breeze sending chills down the spine . . . I felt myself shiver in excitement even though I was not by the promenade, but near Logan's grubby apartment.

"Hey," I heard Logan's voice and I snapped out of my reverie. "You don't want to come in the elevator?"

Logan was frowning as I slowly shook my head and stepped in. The elevator shook for what it was renowned for and I felt it resembled Logan's inner turmoil. Logan was fidgeting with his sleeves and tapping his feet impatiently.

"Tell me something, Joy," he demanded and I gave him a perplexed look. "Tell me anything- to take my mind off this-this . . . "

"Yeah," I said, walking sprightly out of the elevator once we arrived at the twelfth floor. "Yeah, sure."

Logan unlocked the door and warily glanced around. I started describing the sunrise at the ocean to him while he collected his things. A good twenty minutes passed by and Logan was less apprehensive and edgy when suddenly, Logan's phone rang. He fumbled with it, obviously startled, before finally tossing it to me.

"Speak to whoever it is," he muttered, continuing to stuff clothes in his bag in a tensed state. 

"Oh it's Rosemary- hello," I greeted. "I'm JJ by the way, why did you call?"

"Oh my God, JJ! There's no time! Oh my God! Where are you both? Oh my God! We're very near, oh my--- "

"Tell me clearly, what's the matter?" I said with emphasis, my own voice coming out a bit shrill.

"They're coming to Logan's apartment, JJ! This man-this man you told me about earlier, he asked the manager of our store as soon we opened. That jerk told him Logan's address! I tried not to- but . . . but . . . " her voice was filled with remorse. 

"Wait, hold on," I murmured and rushed towards the balcony. I squinted to notice one SUV car approaching the gates. I quickly ducked down, praying that nobody saw me in the balcony and consoling myself that we were on the twelfth floor and nobody could have possibly seen me.

"We're here, JJ! I have been following them, you both need to get out and I'm so sorry that I couldn't do anything. I feel so horrible for screwing everything up--- "

"It's okay, bye," I cut the call abruptly, crawling back and Logan stood by the bed with the bag in his hand, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. "We need to get out of here, your uncle is here."

The colour drained from his face and it looked like he would throw up. I didn't have time to analyse his reactions, so I hurriedly grabbed his hand and dashed outside the door, him stumbling after me.

"We can't go down, Logan," my voice was a hushed whisper as we both bounced down the stairs. "We can't go down because we'll get caught. Do you have any neighbour you trust?"

"Ninth-ninth floor," he rasped as we continued fleeting down the stairs. Surprisingly, I felt energetic, maybe because of the jitters. I was determined to not let Logan get caught because of I passing out due to exhaustion. The power of my mind didn't let my disease to be a hindrance today.

We trudged in the ninth floor towards Logan's trusted neighbour. Logan banged the door urgently, both of us looking around in fear. Our breathing was ragged and I was praying desperately for the door to open. The door soon opened and I should have been relieved, but I wasn't. I wasn't sure if we could have faith in this 'trusted' neighbour . . .

In front of us stood a lady in her early thirties, her dyed blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun, the loose curls framing her make up smudged face. She had large grey eyes, pouty red lips and a nose slightly upturned. She was wearing a skimpy nightgown which barely covered her thighs, the top four buttons undone and I could see her lacy purple bra clearly. Her big breasts were spilling out and I let my eyes wander towards Logan, but he seemed composed.

"We need your help--- " Logan barely got a chance to explain before him and I were lurched in by the woman as she slammed the door shut.