Logan

chapter 1

© 2015 Amy Reant

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Chapter 001 - The foolish man.

                I stare at the clock as it ticks. Its metal hands moving slowly as I tap one foot constantly, moving closer to the numbers. A woman in yellow cradles a baby in her arms, a smile on her lips as she rocks him back and forth against her chest. She’s the typical football mum. She wears mum jeans, a yellow t-shirt and trainers. A jacket placed on her lap along with a baby bottle. She doesn’t look pregnant.

                For a second I believe I cannot do this. I can’t be an eighteen year old football mum, stretch marks upon my stomach, swollen feet and raising a kid, but I have Dom to help me through it. A blue eyed, blonde haired man. We met at school, he was in the year above, and he has always been so kind and generous, always putting me first. Making me fall in love with him even more every time he did something nice.

                A child’s cry snaps me out of my thoughts and I look in front of me. A young boy cries as he cradles his knee. There are only few people here. Not one of them is his mother by the looks of things, he must be waiting. All other mothers, or mothers-to-be are busy. I push myself from my chair and crawl onto the floor with him. “Are you okay?” I ask gently.

                He shakes his black hair, tears wetting his face, his eyes shut tight. I pull him into a hug and he cries against my chest. “Where’s your mother?” I ask. He doesn’t speak, but point to the room where I’ll be shortly.

                I let the boy lose and inspect his knee for him. I rub it softly. “I know what will help. A Magical kiss.” He looks up to me in confusion, his eyes grey and puffy from crying. “If I kiss your knee, my magic powers will take away the pain.”

                “Promise?”

                Looking at his knee again I see no cuts, maybe a small bruise will form. “You have to believe me for my powers to work.” I say smiling at him. He was such an adorable little boy, a smile stretches across his little face. I bend down fully, with some difficulties, and kiss his knee better and rub it some more. “There.”

                I stand back on my own two feet and hold his hands to help him up. “Do you want to stay with me until your mother gets back?” I ask him. He nods shyly. I sit with him by my side, his legs kicking under the chair, as if he was on a swing. “What’s your name? I’m Emily Bond.” I hand out my hand for him to shake.

                “I’m Rory.” He shakes my hand, his little fingers clasping onto my hand.

                A voice sounds from the end of the room and I look to see a woman in a black dress looking at me and Rory, “Rory! What have I told you about talking to strangers?” She says, walking towards us.

                Rory shakes his head with a smile upon his face, “She was helping me! I fell over and hurt my leg!” he says with great exclaims.

                The woman turns and looks at me with Rory’s hand in hers. “Well thank you.” Her nose is turned upwards, as if I’m filth. Rich, snobby, redhead mum turns around and walks away from me. Rory waves his little hand and his mother snatches the hand and pushes it down. Jesus, what a horrible mother. I place a hand on my stomach and vow to never be like that when my baby is born.