Ugh, have you guys ever had one of those mornings where you pulled an all nighter and you just want to wear a pair of sweat pants, but the only pair you have left require a certain pair of underwear that you can't find cause you're room, which you planned on cleaning three weeks ago, is a mess? And then you do, and you get to finding a shirt and you're just like "…" cause they don't really go with anything, but at this point you've put in too much effort to NOT wear them, so you finally find a white one but realize that the right colored bra that's clean was magically eaten by the drier so there's this big tear in the side, which COULD work in dire circumstances, but it's gym day, so THAT won't do, and you look at the clock only to realize you could still be in bed for another hour? Of course, your not finished math homework is on your bed side table, next to your not finished English homework, on top of your not finished bio homework, which just reminds you that you didn't finish your history homework? Yeah. And then you find a shirt, but by now your hair is to dry to leave down, but to wet to pull up, so you spend a half hour trying to make it presentable, and you're in SERIOUS need for caffine?

I have.

Logan's head was a buzz as the rest of the day passed by in a flash. Everything he had been building up was unraveling just so, so fast, he didn't know how to handle it. The more he gave up, the closer his friends were getting to the truth, and he knew it. He wanted to throw his hands over his mouth to shut himself up, but things just kept spilling out before he could get the chance. It was scary, and Logan's found himself with his knees curled up to his chest uncomfortably in his desk, biting his lower lip to keep calm.

When the bell rang, he made his way home, hoping his mother wouldn't be angry anymore. He also hoped she would be dressed. Seeing his mom all dressed up with makeup and her hair like she used to wear it had ignited some kind of hope in Logan. Like, maybe things could change. If she could still look like that loving, caring person from when he was little, couldn't there be a chance of her acting like her, too?

Logan felt a prickling at the back of his neck, his hair going on end, as a car slowed up next to him. He started to panic. There was only one reason a car would pull up next to a kid like him in this part of town, and that was to steal them. As the tinted back window rolled down, his heart sped up. They were going to take him, and he was going to die. His pulse beat loudly in his ears as he looked into the eyes of his kidna-

"Kendall?" he yelped incredulously, shocked as the blonde flashed a cheeky smile down at him from his mother's minivan. The door was opened up for him, and he climbed in, stuck in a total daze. "Mrs. Knight," he called up to the driver from the backseat once he had gathered his bearings and had stopped gaping, "what are you doing here?" She smiled at him with a guilty wince.

"Well, Kendall wanted me to meet your mom after hearing about…" she paused, offering him a sympathetic look that nearly tore Logan apart, "your dad. So instead of going home after school, we decided to take a drive down to your house. I hope you don't mind us inviting ourselves over." Logan shook his head mutely, while inside he couldn't stop screaming 'Go home! You can't come, go home!' He was freaking out. The last thing he wanted to do, and definitely the last thing his mother wanted him to do, was to bring more people home. There was no way this could possibly work out for him, that his mother would understand. She didn't understand yesterday when it was just kids and now, here he was, taking home an adult.

He was going to die.

It wasn't even an exaggeration; he was honestly going to die. He had been left bleeding out on the kitchen floor for less before. This was it, and it was officially setting in. Logan chewed on his lip, mulling it over for a second, and was scared by the wave of relief that washed over him. He wouldn't have to worry. He wouldn't be hungry. He wouldn't hurt, or bleed, or cry. Death was the answer, he was sure, but he didn't want it to be.

Logan was ten years old, falling into the trap that was suicide and it terrified him. The car pulled up next to his house, and the Knights started getting out of the car. Logan followed and led the way up his crumbling front step. He nearly broke down with his hand on the doorknob. Why? Why couldn't there just be one thing, one thing that could be good about his home. There was nothing. There was absolutely nothing that could make his life worth living, and it wasn't fair. But Logan was good at holding back tears, so he opened the door, trying to keep it silent like always, and shuffled into his house.

He saw Mrs. Knight and Kendall hesitate, which wasn't shocking. His house was gross, and dirty, and old. He was practically just waiting for the day when it would finally fall to shambles around him. They stepped in reluctantly, and Logan zipped into the kitchen, finding his mother over a clean-enough mug of coffee. Tears started streaming down his face.

"Mom, I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to, but it just sort of-"

"What. Did you. Do," she cut him off, voice eerily calm. Logan tried to answer, but no words came out. It took all his power not to bend over and vomit on the cold tile as his mother rounded the corner, peaking out to see Mrs. Knight clutching her purse tightly in both hands as she awaited the Mitchells. His mother's eyes narrowed into slits, and another wave of nausea rolled over him, and he hit the floor. She came over and back handed him across the cheek, and bent down to whisper in his ear, "we will talk about this later."

She went upstairs and quickly got dressed in something presentable, hair and makeup done a little sloppily, but Logan couldn't expect much. She met Mrs. Knight, and for a long while the two grieved over their lost husbands as Kendall and Logan hung about, terror building inside the pale boy as Kendall just smiled, proud of his idea to get the two moms together. All too soon, it ended, tears staining each woman's cheeks. Mrs. Mitchell closed the door softly behind the Knights on their way out, and then turned wickedly on Logan.

"Oh, you are SO going to get it!" she said, turning away from him, and marching up the stairs. Logan didn't know what she was going to do, but he was certain of one thing.

Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good.

I'm like, gah, soooooo sick. And since I'm sick, I'm also very emotional. I just keep crying to every bit of music that turns on. It can be happy and I'll still get upset. Stupid life…

All these chapters are super short... I just combine them with other chapters and then think it's too long so I separate them. GAH!