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The Boy With A Past 2/3
Relationships don't always turn out the way they seem. They don't always become the way you picture them in day dreams and the way movies and books make them out to be. They aren't always great.
Sometimes, even the perfect romance ends. Even for me, who thought I had it all made out. He was my friend, who knew me and loved me for everything I was. I was his friend, who knew him and loved him for all he stood for. I loved him and he loved me. But I just wasn't enough.
It all started when I went to visit him at his college campus as a surprise. I should have already known it was a bad idea, should have followed my instinct.
I knocked on his dorm room door, and waited...and waited. Hours rolled by. Eventually, I left, got in my car and went to a restaurant down the street. I called him, and realized I hadn't talked to him in a week. No answer.
I drove back to the dorm, pulled a bobby-pin out of my hair and picked the lock, no one responded to that. I walked around and into the bathroom, where my life turned upside down.
The pool of blood mixed with the tub water, surrounding his lifeless body made my body run cold. The gun in his hand and the gashes in his wrists made bile rise in my throat. The thought of my best friend committing suicide made me scream.
I screamed so loud, I thought someone must have heard me. Someone would accuse me...I stopped. I picked up the note laying by the tub. The suicide letter.
This isn't what I wanted, it was what I needed. My father would want it this way. I just made it faster. And to the one who may find me, tell my Natalie that I love her, that I'll be watching over her, and tell her that this wasn't her fault. It was a necessary evil, a demon that had to be silenced, that no one but me could've defeated. It needed to happen this way. I'm so sorry. Tell my Nat that she doesn't need to cry for me, I'm not worth it.
Never again, Logan James Clark.
I cried. Despite what he told me, I bawled. I couldn't turn back around and face his body. I stepped of the room gagging, dialing 911 on my cell phone.
911, what's your emergency? The operator asked me.
“I-I found m-my bo-boyfriend i-in the t-tub...h-he c-committed-d s-suic-cide.” I stuttered crying, gagging all at once.
Okay, sweetie, where are you? When did this happen?
“A-at N-new Y-york U-univers-sity d-dorm r-r-room one o-oh n-nine. I d-don't k-know. P-please h-help, p-please, I-I n-need h-him.”
We're sending help over, stay on the line please.
“Oh p-please, G-god. W-why?” I cried and cried.
Someone came busting through the door, into the bathroom. Another came over to me picking me up and carrying me away.
“H-he l-left a n-note. H-he d-didn't w-want m-me to c-cry. W-why d-did h-he take h-himself a-away f-from m-me?” I cried into the unknown man's arms.
“Ssh. Calm down, I promise you, I'll try and make it better. I'll try and make it better.” He whispered trying to sooth me. I just cried and cried. He took me to a cop car and drove. He took me to a clinic, a hospital maybe, I wasn't quite sure. Everything was really a blur until I woke up in a hospital bed.
I heard a recognizable man's voice say, “She was the one to call. We found her on the couch bawling while the ambulance grabbed his body. She was having an anxiety attack, we're pretty positive.” I opened my eyes, to the strange white room surrounding me. My breath was hitching in my throat and the machines next to me were beeping loudly.
“Ms. Walker? Are you alright?”
Then I remembered. His body in the water, the note he left his final words placed on. The way I'd lost my best friend, my love, my everything. My breath started quickening, the machines next to my body beeped louder and faster. Tears streamed down my face as my eyes went crazy, thinking of way to get out of here.
“Ms. Walker, Ms. Walker, calm down please.” The nurse told me ans she held my shoulders down.
I opened my mouth, gasping like a fish, I found enough air, and I screamed. High pitched, loud, and uncontrollable, I screamed. Nurses hurried in the room, followed by a shot in my arm and my vision blurring, I stopped, and everything was, once again, lost.
Waking up again to my named being said softly, was a little less dramatic. I opened my eyes to find my mom looking at me from above my bed.
“Natalie. Nat, are you okay?” She said quietly.
“No. I'm really not.” I said, my voice barley above whisper.
“What happened to him mom? What'd they say?”
“Ms. Walker, I see you're awake.” the nurse said coming into the room.
“Tell me what happened.” I demanded.
“Sweetie...” she said coming to sit on my bed. “We tried everything we could. Sweetie, this happened two days ago. We couldn't really do anything.” She told me.
No. No, this wasn't the truth, not what was happening. “No!” I yelled. “No!” I screamed, my voice increasing in volume. I pushed the blankets off, got off of the bed, and before anyone could stop me, I ran. Out of the hospital, out onto the street. I kept running. I was in downtown New York City, running. I almost got hit by cars as I ran across the street, in my jeans and hospital gown. I probably looked like I escaped from the mental institution. I didn't care I kept running until someone grabbed my body around the waist and pulled me down so he was over me. It was that cop.
“Ma'am, you've got to calm down. Everything will be okay, I'm promising you.”
I stood up, pushing him off of me. “No! You can't promise me anything! You promised me you'd make it better! He's gone! That's not better!” I screamed. “It's not better, it's not! I loved him, dammit, and all of you just let him die! You let him! You didn't help him!” He walked to me and hugged me. This man I didn't know was showing me comfort.
“He was supposed to take his pills. He didn't, that's how he got this way,” I said into his shoulder. “I should've known he was lying when he said he was taking them. I should've known. I could've saved him.”
“There was nothing you could've done. People like that, like Logan, they're sick. They aren't right, people like us, Natalie, we can't understand the pain they go through. The thoughts in their minds aren't right. They don't like the way they feel, so they take away the pain the only way they think possible.” He told me, and for a second, it all made sense.
“But...it's not fair. He was my everything, I-I don't...I can't move on. I don't know what I'll do.”
“You're not hopeless. You're pretty and I'm sure you have some sort of future.” I sniffled once he said that.
“I don't want anyone else. I want Logan. He was mine, it's not right, it's not fair.” I murmured.
“Do you think Logan would've wanted you this way? Do you think he wanted to see you upset?”
“Then don't make him a sad memory. Make him something to learn from and something that you can get others to learn from. Make him something you remember as happy, not as depressing.”
“Thank you.” Was all I simply said. I pulled away and walked away from him. I walked to a park. I watched children play and parents laugh. I smiled. There was hope in this world. I just needed to find my place. And I'd use Logan along the way, my star, my everything. Mine, always, no matter the circumstances, he was mine. And I would always love him.
He did leave me scared, worried, and unsure. But he also gave me something I thought I'd never have. He gave me light in the darkness, hope in the sadness, warm in the coldness, and everything when I had nothing.
But I'm promising to him and to myself that I will learn from his mistakes and hopefully, save some others from making the same one.
And to my Logan, who I will love for ever and always, you mean everything, then, now, and forever. I love you.