12 year old Logan Mitchell sat ashamed on the vodka-stenched couch. Brown eyes, wet with tears, and filled with unforgetable secrets. God only knows what lies beneath them. They sinfully watched the elder man frantically search for something unknown.
He began to think back to exactly 4 minuites ago, It burned his memory.
His father, Phillip came in the front door smelling of beer and ciggerettes. Eyes unsteady, as well as his walk. Logan desperately tried to hide the nausia that formed whenever he saw his father. Which was rare, considering he was forced to stay in his room alone for days at a time. No one knew about this situation, nor would he want anyone to. He swallowed fiercly with every wobbly step his father took toward him. Swallowing both anxiety, and vomit.
"You.." Phillip slurred in under his ragged breath. He shoved a finger towards Logan's face. "You're the reason you're mother is g-gone."
Logan's mother had recently died of heart cancer, and each and every day, his father blamed it all on him. He tried to blink back the tears when he got closer.
"You'll be sorry." Phillip breathed.
And that was all it took for Logan to vomit up his fear of his father. He shakily pressed a hand to his throbbing stomach as he heaved onto the floor. His father watched in utter disgust. Logan looked up to his father pitifully. Only to anger him more. He shoved Logan back onto the couch, and began searching for something over by the kitchen table.
"I'm sorry, daddy." He said, dryly. His father stopped dead in his tracks, and walked over to Logan. Eyeing him with a look that could murder any dream, and turn it into an immortal nightmare.
"You're sorry, eh?" He blinked. "Well i'll show you sorry!" He said as he grabbed Logan by the coller of his shirt, Raring back his fist and pounding effortlessly into logan's abdomen. Whimpering slightly, trying to hold back sobs, for he knows if he cries, it'll only get worse. Phillip let go of his collar, sending Logan back onto the couch. He brought his knees up to his chin and let the tears flow from his eyes.
"Baby.." His dad said roughly, before heading up the stairs.
Logan sobbed absent-mindedly into his knees. Thinking of how he'll hide the brusies tomorrow of his first day back to school.
Another recess in absoulute solitude. Logan sat bashfully on the picnick table, with his lunch he packed this morning himself. Watching the other kids play with eachother. While he had no one.. But thats when a small latino boy plopped down beside him, with his lunch bag. The tan boy smiled at Logan. "Hi! I'm carlos! I like you're shirt, where'd you get it?" He said explosivlely, reffering to his Spiderman T-shirt he had wore for a couple of days now. Logan felt himself smile for once in almost a year.
"My mommie bought it for me, before she died.." Logan said, trying not to let a tear sneak past.
"You're mami's in heaven? Mine to!" He said, with the slightest spanish accent in his velvet voice.
"Thats sad." Logan said, scooting closer to the boy.
"Yeah, but i try not to think of it as a bad thing" He said, shrugging with a smile.
Logan and Carlos talked about a little of everything. They also found out they had lots in common, including that Carlos had just moved into the house next to him, wich was sort of odd, because he couldnt remember any new neighbors. Logan really liked Carlos, he was very bubbly, and he felt that he could always have him around when he was feeling sad. They said their goodbyes, and promised eachother they would see eachother tonght.
Logan ran into his house, to find his father passed out on the couch. He quietly made his way up the creeky stairs to his room. Once he was in his room, he plopped down on his bed, thinking of the new kid. He sighed and got up, and went over to his window. The sky was just beginning to turn to dawn, and everything smelt freash. He saw Carlos prancing around his room, blasting music and dancing around the room. Logan couldn't help but giggle when Carlos realized he was watching.
"Hey!" Carlos said, opening his window to meet Logan about 10 feet away.
"Hi Carlos!" Logan smiled.
"You know, i never really caught you're name.." Carlos said, proping against the window seal.
"I'm Logan." He laughed.
"I like that name, and by the way, what happened to you're arm, dude!" He said, pointing to a blue bruise on his fore arm. Logan looked around, self-conciously. "Come on, Loges, I won't tell anyone!" Carlos said, getting a hint of concern in his voice.
"M-my dad.. He beats me."
Carlos giggled. "Good one man, but seriously, did you like, fall or something...?" He said.
Logan began crying. Not just a single teardrop, but he was sobbing. Carlos looked at him, his expression changing from giddy to horrified. "You're not joking.."
"Of course I'm not joking!"
"Logie, don't cry, everything's gonna be alright."
Logan sniffed, trying not to look like a fool. "He beats me for no reason, and he thinks I'm t-the reason why mom died." He batted his eyes. And suddenly, he felt a presence. He turned around quickly to find his father coming at him. Logan gulped as his father took ahold of his shoulders, and began yelling slurred unknown things at him. Logan looked over to Carlos, who was completely mortified. His bottom lip quivering. His dad shook him again to get him to pay attention.
"You never pay attention to me! I hate you!" Phillip said, his eyes burning holes through Logan. He began pounding Logan over and over, hitting him with whatever objects were near. Logan cried with every pound to the body, his vision was getting blurry. Carlos' face was wet with tears, and he let another one slip by, when the cries evanescenced into the silence of the man walking off. Everything was completely silent. The very next thing he knew, police were surrounding Logan's house. Carlos was standing directly behind the 'do not cross' tape. When he saw a small figure being took out on a streacher. His usually flawless complection was stained with tears, and his hair was tousled with frustration. A fragil soul caught in the hands of fate, when morning comes.. it'll be too late..
A statue stands in a shaded place. And angel boy with an upturned face. His name is written on a polished rock. A broken heart that the world forgot..
Carlos made his way through the people, his angelic figure sliding between the men in black with ease. When he got past the mourning couple, he saw Logan's face again for the first time in weeks, standing by his ashes.
"I told you everything would be alright." Carlos smiled, and reach out his hand. Logan gladly accepted it. And they ran upon the hill, hand in hand with the other gone but certenly not forgotten young angels.