The Boy with Silver Hair

-Warning: This story faces some really dark topics.  If you're sensitive to these kinds of things, I suggest you don't read.-

-Just quickly before you start reading, this story is originally by a friend of mine and @PineappleQueen8

 Our friend doesn't have an account, so, with permission, PineappleQueen and I will be posting his stories. Enjoy the story, and critisism is appreciated :)-

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(Jessica)

The cold embrace of winter water froze my bones. But I kept moving. Logan was dying. I forced more strength into my legs and cut even farther down the lake. He was disappearing. Fading out of my life like an ember from a fire. He became smaller. And smaller. He ascended lower as the water wrapped dark hands around him, embracing and pulling him further into the deep. My strength was failing. I wanted to scream his name. Logan. Logan. Logan.

He was going further down. Logan. I am losing him. Logan. I can't catch up. Logan.

LOGAN.

I screamed as I felt water enter my system. I began convulsing as I subconsciously swam up, still casting my gaze to his fading image. I felt like I was skydiving as I climbed toward the surface.

I bobbed up on the surface, barely recognising the sunrise. The sand held me, almost like it was trying to comfort and cry with me, as warm tears cascaded down my soaked face. No sound, no screaming, just a waterfall and a newfound feeling of pain. The hollow pain seemed to rip my flesh from the inside out. I pulled myself out of the water, and felt the wind bite me. Pure agony and guilt seemed to scream at me like a crowd from every angle.

I turned my head to him. Piercing blue eyes. A cocky smile. And silver hair.

5 YEARS BEFORE

(Logan)

The brown hair cascading into my eyes was beginning to annoy me. I blew the wind out of my face and felt the warm wind flow over the cracks and crevices of my face. I wiped the sweat off my brow, as a muscled arm paused its work. The table was close, only another leg to go. I decided to take a break, leaving the shed and jogging to the house. I was halfway when I heard him.

"Hey. Do you want to play a game?"

I had never heard a voice so cold, or as tentative in my life. The shock of the tone pulled me to a direct one-eighty turn.

Evil, deep blue eyes pierced my own. A small smile that masked shadow itself. The wind and the breeze seemed to freeze my mind over. The boy cocked his head to the left and smiled even wider.

Pointed teeth seemed to glare and tear at my sanity as I stared, completely fixated. He took a step forward.

"So... You in or not? Looo~gan?" He stretched out my name like it was an elastic band, teasing me while enticing my curiosity out into the open. I felt like I was committing high treason just by talking to him. A guilty pleasure, almost. I looked around, watching for prying eyes. Why though? I wasn't even doing anything wrong.

"Oh, you are. As far as the world is concerned." I snapped back to reality to see him lunging for my chest, laughing insanely all the way.

2 years ago

(Logan)

My breathing came heavy as I laid eyes on yet another photo. I frantically ripped it off my wall and punched a hole through the spot where it was. So many photos. So many. I rubbed my bloodshot eyes as I remembered another spot. Ever since I met the boy with silver hair, my life went to hell.

Seeing his teasing face on every photo I see, holding knives, guns and various things to peoples heads, making a happy memory an execution for only sadistic pleasure. He would stare at me through my window at night while I try to sleep. It was terrifying.

If I tried to open up, I always ended up saying something else. If someone asked me if I was ok, it would just happen again. It wasn't even in my control.

"Log~aaaaaan! Ooohhhhh Looog~an! Isn't this game we're playing fun?"

I heard the footsteps echo down a dark hall. I scrambled to hide the photos. I shoved them in the drawer and closed it as he stepped into my room.

"Look at you, all tired and depressed. Aren't we having fun?" I turned my hollow eyes to him and waited for the worst.

He extended an arm and caressed the side of my face. I felt the familiar cascade of dark thoughts and scenes. Torture, death, suicide, anything that hurts. He planted images and deathly thoughts in my brains, contaminating my brain like ink to water, to sludge. Thick. Poisonous. Sludge.

He suddenly gripped the sides of my head, squeezing so tight it felt like my skull would crack.

"This will never end, Logan. You will never be free. I will haunt you to the day you're six feet deep in the ground. I will hunt you down every day, Logan. You think you can get rid of me by ridding me from photos? Think again. I. will. Always," He said, with the same sadistic smile as three years ago.

"ALWAYS. Haunt. You. Logan Winters."

24th May, 2016

7:00 am (Jessica)

I woke to the early sound of footsteps in the hall. I got up from my bed , seeing as Logan had already got up.

I got up out of bed, stretching my limbs. I looked in the mirror. Then suddenly, something snapped, and it felt wrong. A sense of urgency mixed with worry. I rushed downstairs. Maybe the source was down there.

"Oh. Jessica. I'm gonna go for a walk this morning."

"Oh. Ok."

The simple reply seemed to calm me somewhat. I began to be suspicious. I got in my car and followed him.

24th May 2016

7:30 am (Jessica)

I got out of the car as Logan stood on the wharf. I saw him slowly tip forward, a precursor to the water's embrace. He fell in and I tried to save him.

But I failed.

I sat, curled into myself on the sand. I turned my head to a cold voice.

"Hey. Do you want to play a game?"