Jump

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE: Thank You and I’m Sorry

“You need to eat.”

The bed dips down when Devin takes a seat near the edge, and he places a plate of two sandwiches on my bedside table. It’s been three hours since I arrived home, and two hours when Devin saw me asleep in my car. Now I’m lying in bed, my comforter almost over my head, with Devin beside me. He’s been trying to get me to eat, but I won’t.

I’m not hungry.

How can I be when my parents are dead?

How can I do anything anymore when the two people I love most aren’t here anymore? How am I supposed to continue on with life without them? I need my parents. Their support, their love and confidence and courage. But without them, I have nothing. I’m nothing.

Devin sighs heavily and pulls my comforter down so he can see my tear-stained face. He leans forward and moves a few strands of hair that’s sticking to my face from my tears and shakes his head. “Logan. Eat,” he says, grabbing my arms and pulling me into a sitting position.

I cross my arms over my chest and look in the opposite direction of him. “No. I don’t want to, and I don’t have to.”

“Yes, you do.” He reaches for the plate, but stops midway, looking at me in the corner of his eye. “Please? For me?”

My stomach growls and Devin lets a half-smile fall into his face, and grabs the plate. He hands it to me, which I take, and stare down at it. There are two peanut butter and apple jelly sandwiches, my favorites, and a handful of Cool Ranch Doritos. Grabbing one, I lift it up to my mouth to take a bite, but something inside my stomach flips, and I suddenly feel a little nauseous mixed with a little nerves. Where did the nerves come from? And why do I feel sick?

Without even thinking, I toss the plate across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces onto the floor. Devin’s eyes widen, his lips parting a little, as he scrambles to his feet and rushes over to where I threw my plate. He looks at me over his shoulder, no longer surprised, and presses his lips into a firm line. With a shake of his head, he starts picking up the broken pieces of glass, careful not to cut himself.

“I told you I didn’t want to eat, so don’t make me.”

The nauseous feeling and nerves hits me again, and I cover my hand with my mouth as I rush into my bathroom. I don’t have time to push my hair out of the way as I throw up the contents in my stomach – the contents that weren’t even there.

“Logan, are you okay?”

Devin’s sudden presence behind me startles me, and I lean away from the toilet to look up at him. His expression from earlier softened, and he now looks worried. I sigh and wipe my mouth off with a piece of toilet paper, flush the toilet and then stand. I push Devin out of the bathroom and close the door behind me.

My head starts pounding and I rub my temples. “Devin, can you please leave? I want to be alone, if you don’t mind.”

His lips curve downward. “I’m not leaving you here alone, Devin. I’m staying with you.”

“No!” I exclaim, snapping my head up in his direction. I narrow my eyes at him. “Go home, please. I just want to get a shower and go to sleep.”

Devin hesitates for a moment, but then he nods and leaves my room. I’m a little surprised to see that he has given up so easily. Giving up isn’t a Devin thing to do. Then again, I don’t give up either, and isn’t that what I’m doing?

No, I’m not giving up. I just have nothing to live for anymore now that my parents are gone.

Oh, my parents. Thoughts of them bring a frown to my face, and my eyes well up with tears again. How could they give up so easily? Why didn’t they fight for their life when they got shot? Did they struggle to survive? Did they die instantly, on the spot? Did they suffer from a lot of pain? So many questions without an answer.