Logan
I sit up straight and gasp for air. My body is sweating and even though it's cold in my room I quickly throw my shirt off and onto the ground. I lay in bed bare chested with the covers pushed to the side as I try to calm my racing heart. God, I hate my nightmares. Actually, it shouldn't even be plural because it's only one nightmare. The same one, again and again and again. It seems that every time I fall asleep I'm either surrounded by darkness or I have a nightmare. What happened to the happy dreams?
I bury my hands into my face and let the buzzing of the gunshot fade away into the quiet night. I don't move at all for a few minutes. Even when I start to feel cold I stay still. What a terrible way to begin what I expect to be a terrible day. I pick up my phone and glance at the time. It's seven in the morning. I can probably try falling back asleep and try catching a bit more Z's before getting up. But I know if I try to close my eyes again I'll just toss and turn.
I swing my legs over the side of my bed and pick up my shirt. After putting it back on, I slowly trudge my feet along the ground as I make my way towards the kitchen. Sur looks up from his bed as soon as I turn the lights on. He yawns and whines softly before tucking his head back down onto his body. It's still probably too early for him to be up.
Cap'n is sleeping on the couch. I stop for a moment to stare at my cat. Her body is stretched out entirely making her look more like a sleeve of a jacket instead of a cat. She notices I've woken up too and begins to stand up. She stretches her back and yawns before effortlessly jumping to the floor.
I make my way to the kitchen where Cap'n joins me at the counter. She's probably waiting for me to make my batch of coffee and to feed her some breakfast. I think the only time she pays attention to me is when I fill up her empty bowl every morning.
"Maybe if you're a good girl today," I say to her as I grab the small cup and dig into her food. Sur seems to hear the noise and he quickly joins us in the kitchen. Food will get any animal to your side in a few seconds. "You'll get some canned food tonight instead of this dry shit."
Cap'n keeps her one eye locked on me. There's a bored and dead expression behind it. I swear, cats can show annoyance so much better than any other creature in the world. Even a cat with one eye. "Cheer up a bit," I say sarcastically as I place her food down in its usual spot. "It's Thanksgiving."
Sur looks up at me with hopeful eyes as if asking, Dude where's my food? I'm hungry too. Lo give me food, I'm a good boy.
I smile down at my dog and get down on my knees to ruffle through his fur quickly before kissing his head. He yawns again, fanning my face with his dog breath. "What would I do without you boy?" I ask only seeming to make him happier. I stand back up and pull out an egg and the Eggo waffles from my fridge.
I hold the egg out in front of Sur, "Omelette?"
He gives me no reaction, so I hold out the box of Eggos, "Waffles?"
Sur barks and wags his tail. I smile and put the egg back into the fridge. "Waffles for breakfast it is," I say as I begin to pull them out of their box. While the waffles finish up in the toaster, I grab the syrup and fill up Sur's bowl with some of his food. When the waffles are done, I tear one into four pieces before dropping it in his bowl with a little bit of syrup.
I sit down at the counter, my cup of coffee at my side as I begin to slowly eat my breakfast. I check my phone only to see several messages from Veronica. You better wear that nice shirt I got you, She texted me last night.
And I didn't get you those dress shoes so that they could collect dust in your closet, She adds. I better not see you in converse and sweatpants or I might actually have to kill you.
I gulp down some waffle, suddenly the syrup tastes like ash and my appetite has gone down the drain. Today is Thanksgiving. I'm supposed to go see my family. The dread and anxiety begins to build up in my stomach. "Sur," I say to him to catch his attention. I lower my waffle down the side and he quickly walks towards me to take it away.
I'm not hungry anymore, I think to myself as I stare down into my coffee. Black...as dark as my soul.
I don't want to go. I shouldn't go. I can't go. The last time they saw me I had short hair. No lip ring. My skin wasn't nearly as pale. I smiled less that's for sure, but who's to say I'm going to smile tonight. I guess I'm more muscular than when I was a freshman. Honestly, I can't remember what I was like the last time I saw them. For all I know, I've only changed physically.
I need to distract myself. I take Sur for his usual morning walk. I don't care that I'm walking around campus in my pajama pants, t-shirt, and jacket. Most students have left for the week to go spend time with their families. The ones that are left on campus are still sleeping. As I walk around with Sur, I notice how empty and vacant everything is when no one is around. It's pretty great honestly.
We head back home as soon as I start feeling too cold. I walk around the kitchen and begin to pull out several ingredients I bought over the week. Mom used to love apple pie. I wonder if she still does. I've never been the best at baking and cooking, but hopefully I can manage through one apple pie recipe.
I set out all the ingredients and begin to work. At least making something prevents me from thinking too much about my family. I play music over my phone and nod my head to the beat of different songs. Every so often, I'll eat one of the apple slices I've made or toss it over to Sur. He stays at my side the whole time. Laying down on the ground as he watches me maneuver my way around making the pie.
When I finally have the pie in the oven—which honestly took longer than I thought it would—I decide to take a shower. I stay under the showerhead and running hot water for a long time. I can't help but think back to the last time I saw my parents.
I wonder if my dad still has those old and cruddy reading glasses. Or if my mom has decided to dye her hair. I know from the magazines that neither of them has really gained or lost weight. They look a little bit older in the pictures, but I guess that's to be expected.
I wonder if the house is any different. Mom always liked to change up the furniture. She would also switch out the curtains depending on the season. Maybe they've redecorated my room into another office. Or a gym. The pictures of us all together might not be hung around anymore. They might not even have pictures of me. For all I know they could have erased me the way I've erased them.
I lean my head against the cold tiles and close my eyes, What's going to happen when they see me?
What if they only wish they had a different son?
What if I'm the last thing they want?
My negativity strikes before I even have a chance, You've always been the last thing they've wanted Logan.
I take a deep breath to control the constricting feeling in my chest. I turn the water off and grab my towel wrapping it around my waist. I walk towards my closet shuddering against the cold air of the apartment.
I pull out the shirt Veronica bought me and neatly place it on my bed. I search for a dark pair of jeans and then the shoes Vero was talking about. Once I have it placed against my bed I stare at it.
It's a nice outfit. A black button-down shirt, dark jeans, and a nice pair of shoes I would never think of wearing any of it. I'd much rather show up in a Stark sweatshirt with my comfortable worn out Converse but I know this means a lot of my sister. Veronica has been trying to get me to talk to our parents for so long now. I think if she knew all it would take was a wedding and guilt trip, she would have asked Hudson to propose years ago.
I quickly get dressed into the clothes. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I look handsome. I mean...not to brag or anything—but I do. I pull down the sleeves of the shirt as far as they'll go. There's a tiny sliver of my wrist that's showing just a little bit of my tattoos, but honestly it just looks like I wrote things on my arm.
Veronica does have good taste, I think to myself as I turn away from the mirror. Then again, you can never go wrong with black.
I go into the kitchen again and pull out the pie from the oven. It smells delicious which means I hopefully prepared it properly. I leave it on the counter to let it cool off. Sur tries to glance at the pie as if asking, What smells so good? I want some.
"We've still got a few hours boy," I take the oven mitts off my hands and glance down at him. My fingers start tapping against the counter. "Any ideas on what we can do?"
We decide to watch a movie. I try to focus on the screen more than my thoughts. At every passing minute I feel more dread start to build up. Maybe I should just cancel. I can try to do something else tonight. Sure, all my friends are gone to see their loved one's but maybe I can find a place that's open, order take out, and spend Thanksgiving with my pets. Because that's not at all depressing.
I just...don't want to face everyone. Not after everything I said.
I don't bother eating lunch. Food isn't at all appealing at the moment. The nerves in my stomach and thoughts in my head are making me feel nauseous. Sur and I go for another walk. We take our time, greeting a few other students who are stranded on campus because they either can't afford to visit their families or have chosen to stay to try and catch up with classes.
We walk around the park and through the soccer fields. I'm glad I've brought my leather jacket, there's a small cold breeze that keeps blowing through. Maybe I'll get lucky and get sick over the next few hours in which case I'll have a legitimate excuse to not have to go.
My phone starts to ring and I pick up it up quickly, "Hello?"
"Hey baby brother," Veronica says with an excited tone. "What are you up to?"
"Walking around with Sur," I say sullenly. I'm in no mood for happiness. I'm in the mood to sulk and complain.
"Are you bringing him over tonight?" Vero asks.
I nod my head even though she can't see, "Yeah. April can't dog-sit. She's out of town and I honestly don't have the money to leave Sur and Cap'n at an animal hotel. Why? Do mom and dad not want him?"
There's a bit of silence on Veronica's end of the phone that makes me frown. "About that..." She finally says slowly.
My heartrate increases and I can't help but stop walking for a moment to stare down at my dog. I'm not going anywhere without Sur. He's like one of those pets that's helps deal with anxiety. I should probably get him registered. Without him I'd probably be lost. "What Veronica?" My voice comes out harder than I mean to.
"I haven't actually told mom and dad you're coming for Thanksgiving," I can picture her face right now. That innocent face with the Whoops expression like she's a five-year-old girl. Except Veronica isn't five and this isn't a cute incident where she accidentally breaks a vase. This is her lying and making the situation even worse for me.
"You—" My brain is thinking too fast for my mouth to formulate words. "What—but—what?"
"I thought it would be so much cuter if you surprised them, you know?" Veronica tries to defend herself but I'm honestly starting to feel more anger than nervousness. Cute? Nothing about this situation is cute. This isn't a military family reunion. I'm not some long-lost lover. How the hell is this cute? "They haven't seen you in like three years Lo. If I told them you were coming they'd probably overreact and unnecessarily stress out the way you have been this whole week."
"I haven't been unnecessarily stressing out," I nearly shout. "I've been stressing out at the normal level between border line insane to oh my God the world is going to end. My stressing out is damn well justified."
I can picture Veronica's bland and bored expression. "That's not healthy," She says dully. "You should eat some spinach. It helps with stress."
"Fuck you Veronica," I start heading back towards my apartment. Stopping every so often whenever Sur wants to smell something. "You said mom and dad invited me to Thanksgiving again."
"They did," She quickly says. "I just never told them you accepted their invitation."
I shrug my shoulders and finally make up my mind. Shaking my head, I say, "I'm not going."
"Yes you are," Vero says sternly.
"No," I repeat in her same tone. "I'm not."
"Logan Oscar Williamson," Veronica takes a deep breath and I suddenly realize I'm in deep shit. She's going to yell. I can hear it in her tone.
"You're going to this dinner whether you want to or not." She shouts.
Well I was right about the yelling...
"I will not have my family split up at my wedding. I refuse to believe you won't ever speak to mom and dad again. I'm tired of being the stupid fucking bridge between the three of you. And I'm tired of seeing just how miserable the three of you are whenever I mention names. If you're not there tonight, so help me God, the day I do actually have a child their godfather isn't going to be you. And you can bet my money I won't be making visits around the state during Christmas just because my parents and brother can't be in the same room together. If I tell mom and dad to get their fucking act together, you better too, asshole."
I gulp. During her little spiel I had to pull my phone away from my face because her yelling was just too much. But I heard all of it. Veronica catches her breath and I'm too in shock to really say anything. I'm going to feel bad for any children of hers that have to listen to her yelling. On the bright side, Vero is probably going to be a great mother.
Finally, I stutter out, "W-What time should I be there?"
"Six," She snaps. "Not a minute later."
"Ok," I say quietly. Sur and I take a turn and begin to walk through the park back towards our home. To try and lighten the mood I ask, "Were you really planning on making me the godfather of your first child?"
Veronica sighs and I'm glad to note that her anger has subsided. "Yeah," She says softly.
I smile, "If it's a boy will you name him Logan?"
"No," Veronica answers quickly. "And just for that, I'm hanging up."
I chuckle softly, "Happy Thanksgiving Vero."
"Happy Thanksgiving," She replies. "I'll see you tonight Lo."
*************
Cap'n hissed at me when I put her in her crate. I think she's also pissed off at the fact that Sur gets to sit up front with me instead of being caged up like her. Cap'n hates car rides anyways. She always freaks out at every little noise unless I have her in the crate. Trust me, I don't like caging up my pets but I'd much rather her be safely tucked into a box than slashing her claws at me while I drive.
Sur on the other hand is very excited. I've rolled down the window slightly to let him stick his nose out. He's got his doggie-seatbelt on and his tail keeps wagging. Every so often I'll glance at him just to feel a bit happier.
After Veronica's very persuasive lecture of me showing up, I've decided I'm more afraid of her than I am of my parents. Veronica might actually end my life if I don't show up. But even with my fear of what Veronica would do or say, it doesn't stop the fact that the longer I drive the more I begin to recall the last time I spoke to my parents.
It was around fall time. I think I was given the option to come home for the weekend. Veronica was still in college. She came home too which meant our family decided to get together for dinner. I remember driving home that day. I was in one of my biggest lows since high school. But I forced myself to come out and see my parents and sister.
"Aw Logan," My mother cooed when she saw me. "You look great."
Do I? I had thought at the time.
"Are you having fun in college?" My dad had asked. He patted me on the back as I walked into our home. "You're going to have to tell us all about it champ."
I didn't really say much. Then again, I didn't have much to say. I stayed quiet and was very thankful when Veronica arrived. She took away most of the attention which I was eternally grateful for. While my mother's chef made dinner, we all sat around the living room listening to Vero's stories of being on the swim team and how she's really enjoying college.
"That's great hon," My dad said to her with a proud smile. He then shifted his gaze towards me, the smile never faltering. I inwardly cringed knowing he was going to ask me questions next. "How about you Logan? Are you enjoying college?"
"Yeah it's great," I nodded. Pushed a smile. Maybe they wouldn't have been able to see the pain. During high school I had gotten really good at hiding the pain. "It's different. New. I'm enjoying it."
During dinner, we all took our usual seats around the table. My whole life I've sat in the same seat. Even when we have guests and chairs are added on, I never move. None of us do. My father is always at the head with my mother and sister at his side. I simply take a spot beside Veronica. We used to always sit this way so we could play with our dinosaur nuggets when we were kids. Those used to be the happy days. I really wished I could go back.
"You got a job," My mom began serving food on our plates while glancing at me. "Right Logan?"
"Yeah," I elaborated briefly. If there's anything I did want to talk about, it was dance. Probably one of the few things I was—and still am—proud of. "At a local dance studio. It's pretty cool."
"I'm glad you still dance," My father said. "It shows you're dedicated and you don't give up."
Oh trust me, I thought to myself. I want to give up.
As family dinners go, this one seemed like any other. My father mentioned things about work. My mom talked about football. Every so often Veronica would contribute something she'd learned in class. She and my father understood terms I wouldn't figure out until my junior year of college. The economy and college debt topic came up. My mom would look at me and roll her eyes as if calling her husband and daughter crazy.
"So what's this I hear about you and your friends wanting to go to San Francisco?" My father asked Veronica.
Veronica's body tensed up slightly and I saw the way her eyes flicked over towards me. I looked away and back to my plate of food. "It's nothing dad," She said quickly. "We're just all going as a senior trip sort of thing. Really, don't worry about it."
"San Fran was beautiful," My mother gushed. She placed her hand on my fathers and smiled. "Don't you remember honey?"
My dad laughed and nodded his head. He looked me in the eye and said, "One day we decided to take a trip to the beach and your sister shredded the waves. I mean, she's a natural on a surfboard."
"Alright dad," Veronica said with her jaws locked tight. "That's enough."
I knew at the time Veronica was trying to protect me. She was always good at that. Ever since we were little she always tried to protect me. From the time I fell out of the tree and she reached out to catch me. I broke my arm, but she probably stopped me from breaking other bones in my body. To the time we were in the car accident and she made sure to reach towards me the moment she realized there was an impact. But there are some things she still can't protect me from. My family being one of them.
I pushed some of my food across the plate, my appetite disappearing in a blink of an eye. I felt my chest and body start to give out on me as if I were purely exhausted. The negative energy felt like it was raging through my body and I realized I was going to have a panic attack. In efforts to push all my feelings down, I started to breathe through my mouth trying to hold back tears. I probably shouldn't have gone that day. That day was not a good day.
"Oh man champ," My dad said with the same smile on his face. "You should have been there."
My fist suddenly clenched around the fork I was holding. This surge of anger, sadness, and feeling of betrayal washed over me so quickly I was utterly shocked. I was suppressing my feelings and emotions for so long that suddenly felt like they were all overflowing at once.
"Yeah but I wasn't," I mutter under my breath through my clenched teeth.
The only person that seemed to have heard me was Vero. She turned to look at me and I stared into her melancholy eyes. She reached over to place her hand on my mine, but I pulled away before she could comfort me. I didn't want comfort at the time. I wanted to disappear and forget about everything and everyone.
"What did you say hon?" My mother asked taking a bite of her food.
"I said," I looked up at my parents. I think they were both taken aback by the pooling tears in my eyes and the way my hands kept shaking. My body was slowly losing control and I wasn't bothering to try and stop it. "I wasn't there. Just like I wasn't there for the family trip to Cabo. Or the trip to Lisbon. I was too busy at Saint J's."
I was tired of hearing the stories and getting the postcards. During the breaks and summers, they always had something to mention. Saint J's didn't always have the same holiday vacations as Vero's school. It meant the three of them would sometimes take family vacations while I was stuck in school. Sure, sometimes during holidays or the beginning of summer, my parents would let me tag along too. But overall, I think I've missed more family trips than attended.
It sounds stupid to get upset over a few vacations. But you try being stuck in a cramped room, feeling like everyone in the world doesn't give a crap about you, only to be comforted by the beach postcard your parents send you. And when you flip it around you read: It's beautiful here! Hope you're having a great time at school.
Do you know what it's like to read something like that and realize that the people in your life who are supposed to care about you don't? It messed up with my head and contributed more to my sleepless nights. I'm didn't ask to go to Cabo with them. I didn't care about going on a vacation. I just cared about being cared for.
"Hon," My mom said softly. She seemed somewhat afraid. "We're not trying to make you feel excluded."
"Funny coming from someone who sent me to boarding school," I said it so fast I didn't even give myself a chance to stop. It just flowed out.
"Hey," My dad snapped as my mom stared at me in shock. I don't think I've ever once complained about Saint J's to them. Honestly, I hadn't had a heart to heart conversation with my parents for probably four years.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin and scraped my chair back. "I'm not hungry," I got up and began walking out of the dining room.
I heard the shuffling of my dad standing up before his strong voice said, "You weren't excused from the table Logan."
My hands clenched at my sides and I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The tears didn't even bother staying in my eyes and I began to feel them against my cheeks. I turned back around to face my parents, "Would you like to excuse me from the family instead?"
My father frowned, "Logan—"
"Isn't that what you've been doing?" I interrupted without caring. My voice was coming out shaky. Neither of my parents have seen me cry since before they sent me to Saint J's. They were both taken aback and I think in that moment they realized how bad their judgement had been.
"For the last," My voice cracked. "Four years."
"Hon," My mom spoke so softly that in any other circumstance it probably would have calmed me down. When I turned my attention to her I realized how much in pain she was at the sight of me. Her face was scrunched up and she looked at me like I was a frightened kitten that needed coaxing. "Is this about Saint James?"
I wasn't sure how to speak without crying. The anger and disappointment was clouding my judgement. In a slow and shaky voice, I somehow managed to say, "You left me there. I may have chosen to go, but you left me there."
"Logan," My dad said heartbroken. "Sit down and we can talk about it."
I shook my head, "No."
"Logan listen—"
"No!" I yelled and felt the sudden urge to punch something. I pushed my hands through my hair in frustration and glanced at Veronica. She was sitting still in her seat as silent tears started to stream her face. I started to hiccup and my breathing became uneven as my eyes darted between my parents. "You don't get it. You never have!"
"Then explain it to us hon," My mother urged. Her own eyes started to glaze over. "W-We can't help if you don't tell us what's wrong."
"I needed you," My voice stopped shaking and my sentence flowed out perfectly. Both my parents look up at me as if surprised by my words. I guess they never expected that as an answer. "I didn't need you to send me to boarding school. I didn't need you to buy me things. I didn't even need you two to take me on trips. I just needed you."
My father licked his lips slowly. His voice shaky, "Lo—"
"You two left me in an all boys boarding school after finding out I'm depressed," I snapped. "Present tense because—news flash—I still am! And you threw me away because you didn't want to deal with my shit."
"That's not true," My mother quickly stepped in. "We wanted to help you baby."
"So instead of hugging me and telling me everything is alright you decide to send me to a boarding school?" I asked. "Isn't that what parents are supposed to do?"
She looked away as if ashamed at my words. Maybe simply taken aback. I realized I was basically calling them out for their lack of parenthood, but I didn't care. I take a deep breath, "And whenever I come home, you mock me by telling me what a great fantastic time you're having without me here?"
I locked my red eyes with my father. He was breathing through his nostrils and I could see he was at the verge of tears too. I couldn't recall ever seeing my father cry. He was always the kind of man that laughs and smiles. Even seeing him angry is a rare sight.
"The only person who visited me frequently was Veronica. While you just sat at home all day, at peace knowing your son wasn't sulking upstairs. Well you want to know how Saint James really was for me, dad?" I shout it loudly and stop caring that some of our housemaids could probably hear me. "Do you really want to know what I spent most of my time doing?"
My dad looked away from me. A tear fell down his face onto the dinner table. I stepped forward and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt positioning my wrists upright for my parents to see. One of the scars was still pink and scabbed. My mother sucked in a breath and Veronica averted her eyes entirely as my father stared down at my arms with misery.
"I cried myself to sleep almost every night," My eyes stayed locked on his face but that didn't stop the fact that I was crying. "I hurt myself almost every time I thought back to how much no one loves me."
I pulled my sleeves back down and wiped one across my face to gather up all the tears and snot that was building up. I take a few steps back my body and mind absolutely exhausted. I needed to get out of there. I just need to leave and never look back.
"I'm telling you this because you should both know the truth." I say in a quieter tone. "And the truth is, I needed you. More than ever and you weren't there. I never asked for a lot. I never even asked you to be there for me. But as soon as I do need you, you send me away. Like I'm nothing. So excuse me for thinking that I'm nothing but a waste of a Williamson."
I had a sudden and unexpected outburst. I didn't care. I needed to get it all out. Therapy didn't help me and my next step was to try and get some meds. Not once had I ever raised my voice at my parents. Even when I was at home, I kept my depression hidden away like a dirty secret. They wanted to know the truth and that was the truth. But the thing is, no one actually wants to know the truth. Especially when it's hard to accept.
"Lo-Logan," My father said. His bottom lip started to shake. "I-I'm sorry. We thought it was for the best."
"I almost killed myself two years ago," I said it so steadily it even shocked me. Veronica finally snapped her attention to me—completely unaware of the information. There were still a few things I had never said out loud to anyone—even myself. This was one of those things. "And I thought that was for the best too."
At that point, my parents didn't know what to say. It looked like they both aged ten years in five minutes. I bit my lip and shrugged at them, "The only person who was ever there for me was Aaron. He stopped me. I bet he'd make a better Williamson than me."
I grabbed my jacket that was placed against one of the counter chairs and start putting it on. All my belongings were here. I didn't have much on me at the time. But I knew I had to get out of there now. As sad as it is to admit, they were one of the many bricks that only contributed to my depression. They weren't the cause—but they were definitely a trigger. And sadly, they still are—except now—it's for different reasons.
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," I told my parents. "You wanted to give me space, you got it. Don't bother calling or sending me money. I can make it on my own. I have been, for four years now. You don't want me to be a part of the family, that's fine. I'm sick of being a Williamson anyways."
*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*
Disclaimer: Low key hating where I moved to because it's cold and it rains allll the time. I want to live in Miami.
I cut this chapter in half because it's really long. I hate cutting chapters in half and I hope it doesn't annoy you guys too much. I do it because I have a notebook with all the chapters and ideas written down, so if I get off track of a chapter, it messes up all my plans and makes it harder for me to coordinate everything.
Anyways, please comment on what you guys think. This is kind of a big stepping stone chapter I guess. Not as much as the next one because as you've probably figured out Logan is going to be confronting his parents--which makes me want to ask how you think that'll go? But please, opinions?
Please vote :) means a lot. Love you guys!
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