SURVIVORS GUILT
"…What's so great about living anyway..." Logan Echolls
It had been twelve milliseconds and counting since he'd thought that it was wrong that he'd survived.
It had been twelve minutes and counting, since he'd slipped something into his drink to help him sleep, twelve minutes since he'd been staring up at the dark ceiling and soaking in the nothingness of his existence, twelve minutes since he'd been trying to close his eyes and only seen Lilly being brained by his father, twelve minutes since he'd been wishing it had been him, and wondering if it had.
It had been twelve hours and counting, since he'd walked to the bridge for the hundredth time and stood where his mother had jumped, twelve hours since he'd stood at the edge, looking down at the water, and balancing precariously over the precipe, twelve hours since he'd contemplated just letting go, and wishing that he had, twelve hours since he'd gambled, playing the balancing game.
It had been twelve days and counting since Veronica had broken up with him, twelve days since he'd drunk himself into oblivion, twelve days since he'd stolen a car and crashed it into a lamp post, twelve days since he'd been sitting in the sheriffs office wondering why the hell he kept on surviving, twelve days since Veronica's dad had paid his bail and driven him back to the hotel because no one else was there to do it.
It had been twelve months and counting since Lilly had been murdered, twelve months since his father had given him a thrashing and twelve months since his father had gone to jail, twelve months since he'd watched that tape with Lilly, twelve months since he'd thought that his silence was why Lilly was dead, twelve months since he'd stood in front of that bridge and first played the balancing game.
It had been twelve seconds and counting since the radio had announced his fathers release, twelve seconds since he'd gotten dressed and driven to the bridge again, twelve seconds since he'd stood at the edge and balanced on the precipe and twelve seconds since his phone had gone off. It had been twelve seconds since he'd turned his back on the balancing game and driven over to Veronica's house, twelve seconds since he'd been sitting with her talking.
It had been twelve milliseconds and counting, since he'd thought that maybe it was all right that he'd survived.