||The maddest are often the brightest||

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[Dedicated to inspirational- for the cute banner on top! :)

By the way I do not usually do long author's note on this story, but as you might have already seen, I've entered TIMS in the wattys so if you guys could be extra supportive by voting if you often forget and commenting your opinion, it would be extremely appreciated! Considering I have impossibly low chances of winning, all the help is accepted at this point. Also tweet #MyWattysChoice with the name of the story if you could!

Thank you all so much for everything

xx
Lee]

C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N
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It seems like a dream in mute. I do not hear anything, I do not understand anything, I do not feel anything. All I can focus on is the closed mint blue doors in front of me and the fact that my dad is behind them, laying on his back with doctors and nurses around him, trying to keep him alive.

I'm an atheist so I have no idea what to do right now. Logan is trying to talk to me, but I do not listen, all I can see is the comings and goings of the nurses through those stupid mint blue doors.

I've always hated going to the hospital, from as long as I can remember, the only time I went was when I came to life, right from my mother's vagina. I breathe and all I can smell is death. Hospitals all have that same smell and it is everything but comforting. It smells of metal and blood and it's cold, extremely cold, but my whole body is numb so it does not have any effect on me.

Apparently, my dad was on the road and saw a vehicle speeding. He went after it and tried to arrest the driver, but turns out he was an armed drunk man and my dad got shot before he could even realize what was happening.

It's weird because it just doesn't look like my dad, this behaviour. He has always been more than careful and this sort of things just couldn't happen to him. I guess that not everyone can be perfect. A person who's always careful can always be robbed.

It doesn't seem like it's real life you know? People get shot, people get kidnapped, people die, but not in my life. Matt is gone, nothing worse could've happened, that sort of misfortune just cannot happen in my life, not twice. We have suffered enough, my dad and me, we do not need this extra pain.

I let myself slide down the wall and hug my knees to my chest. I do not cry and I don't understand why. Instead, my hands are shaking, my heart is beating fast, there's something the size of an orange caught in my throat.

Logan kneels down in front of me and tries to make me look at him, but I push him away with force, which startles him a bit. I look at him, his wide eyes, his chest that rises every two seconds because of how fast his breathing is, the mess that is his hair, and finally tears begin to blur my vision.

I cry and no sound comes out of my mouth.

It's this sort of pain that doesn't just come from the fact that my dad's in there and is about to die. It's everything combined together and it's more than what my body can handle, I'm shaking from everywhere and I can't breathe. It's like when you're so angry but you try to hold back, so when you finally explode, it's like thunderstorm; uncontrollable.

Hesitantly, as if he's afraid that touching me will make me blow up, he approaches me and when he sees that I do not react, wraps his hands around my small fragile frame.

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