chapter 8 | empty hearts
Two days later, Logan was found hanging by a rope to the ceiling fan in his bedroom.
And I always thought that my father's beatings were beyond painful, that the bruises he left would taint my skin forever and poison my life for all eternity. I thought my mother's mistakes would cause my heart to ache until the hair on my head was gray.
But losing Logan was hands down the most unbearable pain I have ever suffered. And it hurt. It still hurts.
I'm not sure if it will ever stop.
Mr.Anderson had people over to give him their blessings and talk about how wonderful Logan was. Logan's father was awful, he didn't care about Logan at all, and it made me mad how he was accepting the sympathy from his friends and coworkers.
The only reason I was invited over was because Logan had some of my things. Now that Mr.Anderson's son was dead he had no reason to be nice to me.
As I was collecting my things from Logan's room I didn't cry. looking at his belongings didn't make me sad. It made me feel closer to him if anything.
"Are you almost done?" Logan's dad's voice filled my ears as I continued to pile up my shirts and hair ties.
I didn't reply to Mr. Anderson. Only finished up quietly and bumped shoulders with him once I left. Words couldn't begin to describe what I wanted to do to that man.
On my way out I realized there was a pastor standing by the picture of Logan in the living room. The pastor had his hands all over the frame and looked down at Logan questioningly.
"Hi," I said to him, causing the pastor to rip his gaze from the photo, and onto the teenage girl standing in front of him. The pastor placed the photo back into its place.
"You're the pastor, right? For the church like ten blocks from here?"
The man raised an eyebrow at me, nodding slightly as If I had offended him in some way. Perhaps he was so disturbed because of my lack of knowledge of addressing a pastor. "That would be me, yes, Reverend Amos."
"R-Right, Reverend Amos. Uh, when's the funeral? Logan's funeral, I mean."
"Oh. And who might you be?"
"I'm Avelyn Jacobs."
"Allow me to check the list I was given." It took the Reverend a few seconds to search through the list in his hands. He turned back to me with a frown. "You're not invited, I'm afraid."
"What?"
"You aren't on the list Logan's father gave me."
"T-There must be some kind of mistake- I was Logan's best friend-"
"And I'm telling you again, Miss Jacobs, You're not on the list."
And that's how I missed my best friend's funeral. I was still there, thirty feet away, sitting on an old hill and watching them lower his casket. I didn't cry. I stared at his father and wanted to shout at him: "You didn't even care about him!" But I didn't. I bit my tongue and sat absent on Logan's funeral.
My box of cigarettes wasn't calling to me like they usually were. I felt empty. It literally felt as if someone had taken my heart out of my chest and drained everything- I couldn't feel. But quite frankly, I preferred it that way.
After the service, everybody left except his dad. I eyed him from my spot on the hill and resisted the urge to shove both my middle fingers in the air, furiously shouting curse words at that awful man. Mr. Anderson scowled at me, I did nothing.
When Logan's father left is when I approached his grave. I was rubbing my mouth and staring at the dirt. I wanted to break at that moment. Tears pricked at my eyes and terrible thoughts consumed my mind.
I sat down in the rain near his grave and looked at his plaque. I didn't say anything for the 2 hours I sat by him. And then when it was time to go, I stood, pulled my cigarette box out of my pocket, and tossed it at him.
"There's your cigarette, garden boy." And I went home. And I sat in bed. And my siblings asked me If I was okay, so I turned to them and smiled, nodding my head, replying: "Why wouldn't I be okay?" Still, I did not cry.
By the time it was time for dinner I only felt complete and utter emptiness. My siblings thought I couldn't hear them crowding around my bedroom door, but I could. And they were only speaking of how to approach me- what to say and how to ask when I didn't want anything to change at all.
"Hey, Avelyn," Tony's voice echoed in the hallway outside my bedroom. He knocked lightly on my door as I cuddled further into my covers. "we, uh, ordered dinner a while ago. Do you want the last slice of pizza?" and I sat up in my bed at the desperation so obviously in my brother's voice. I looked at him and smiled.
"No, you guys have it. I'll eat something later." Tony nodded, giving me a tiny sympathy smile before shutting the door to my bedroom again.
I never did eat dinner that night.
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