A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Sixty Six : The Girl's Whispers

Third Person's POV [Logan's POV]

Logan was chasing Joy among the sunflowers, but he couldn't reach her. She kept running and running, laughing and laughing, her dress swishing around her pale legs. Logan's breath became ragged and suddenly, he lost her. She was nowhere to be seen.

Logan whipped his throbbing head here and there, searching for her. There was a blur of yellow all around him and his face crinkled, the light blinding him. He sank down on his knees, rubbing his eyes and licking his dry lips. Where was Joy? And where was he?

He felt thin fingers tipping his chin up and cool lips pressed against his chapped lips for a moment. His eyes fluttered open and got locked into glittering blue ones. Joy towered over him, her body appearing almost translucent. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him to his feet, her breasts brushing against his body.

"I'm here," her voice was barely a whisper and she gently wiped his tears, hushing him softly.

"I love you Joy," he murmured, his forehead touching hers. "Don't ever run away from me."

"But I have to Logan and you have to too." Her fingers left his face and Logan became hysterical. "You have to fight Logan, you have to live."

"No, don't go . . . " he begged, his voice hoarse. Her glass like appearing body suddenly split into two and Logan staggered back. Joy smiled at him peacefully.

"I'll always be there," she shouted and a gust of wind blew towards them, which carried tiny crystal pieces of her into the shining sky.

Logan followed her hastily, not wanting to let her go.

His exhaustion grew as he rushed against the wind which was trying to knock him down. He was near the ocean now, the wind beating him and the cold water soaking his worn out sneakers. He only stared at the crystal pieces which soared higher and higher- towards the horizon.

* * *

Joy's POV

Morning came and no one took me to the hospital. Apparently, Logan wasn't awake yet. The doctors had predicted him to be conscious by then, but he was still in a la la land. One more day passed with Gemma and Gizmo by my side, giving their sincere support. It didn't help, as the clock ticked, my heart grew heavier and heavier.

Finally, I couldn't stand being cooped up in my room so I threw the biggest tantrum I had ever thrown in my life. My parents grew weary and eventually decided to take me. I was not proud of what I did, but glad that I had got my way.

Another day went by with me outside Logan's room and Logan wasn't awake yet so I had to go back home. Before leaving, I had whispered from outside the room, hoping the words would reach him since I wasn't allowed in. "I'm here Logan. I'll always be there."

The next day before I woke up on my own, Gizmo was licking my face and my mum was shaking me vigorously.
My forehead creased as I squinted at them and mum beamed at me. "Logan's awake!"

I was jumping in my wheelchair all the way to the hospital, smiling at everyone around me. Logan was awake! He was alive and well! The familiar stench of the hospital engulfed me as I passed the plain walls. Two policemen and a man dressed smartly emerged out of Logan's room. I peered at them curiously and they smiled politely at me. They must have come for enquiry.

I took a sharp breath and Shaun pushed my wheelchair in.

"Hey," I said, my voice faltering. "How are you?"

"I . . . Joy . . . You're here," Logan mumbled in a daze.

"Always." I hastily pushed myself forward and held him down when he tried to sit up. "Don't get up, you need to rest."

He didn't protest, only nodded faintly and laid down. I watched him as he stared forlornly out of the window. A lone autumn leaf fell from a nearby tree and it landed on the window sill. The room was deadly quiet, I could hear both of us breathing. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, not looking at me.

I frowned. "Look here Logan." He didn't so I insisted, "Look at me and tell what are you apologising for."

He slowly turned to me, his eyes were dull. "I didn't tell you about that bastard's threats. He did this to me, he fucking crippled me."

"Now, now, don't be dramatic," I said plainly. "Sure you could have told me,  screwing those senseless reasons you had in your mind, but you're not crippled. I bet your uncle would be furious if he saw that his plan totally failed. Here you are, alive and breathing and cursing like a truck driver."

His lips twitched upwards and he snorted.

"Yeah right." He again looked out, his jaw clenched. He made a very amusing picture- a pale boy looking skinnier in a hospital attire with the thickest bandage wrapped around his forehead that he struggled to even lift his face. But angry, angry at the way things set out differently than what he had planned. I knew that trying to extinguish the fire in him right now would only lead to an explosion . . . So I let him be angry.

I moved closer to him so I could hold his hand. "By the way, Gizmo rescued you. He called for your help. The doctors said that if you would have been brought a little later, you wouldn't be here."

His eyes softened. "Hmm. I thought he had ran away."

"Of course not. Nobody will ever run away from you, we'll always be there."

"Hmm, hmm." He still didn't look at me, but his hold on my hand tightened. "Sorry for worrying you."

I scoffed. "Stop it now! You should apologise for being silly. My job is to worry about you, it keeps time going you know. What would Logan be doing right now? Is he at college? Did he eat what maa sent him? See, it's actually fun to guess."

"You need new hobbies."

"Apart from dying, no thanks." I laughed to myself, but Logan remained quiet. "Tell me to get lost when you don't want me to bug you anymore."

"Never." He was smiling now even though his cheeks weren't rosy.

I asked gently, "Does it hurt?"

"Not now," he replied, adding, "With you."

"And the award for the most corny sentence of the century goes to . . . "

We both were laughing, although it hurt our bodies from shaking so much.

Then slowly our laughter died down as we gazed out of the small window in a comfortable silence, clasping each other's hands and watching specks of dust settle on the lone leaf.