A/N: Hello everyone! Please feel free to throw various sharp or harmful objects at me for my lack of updates. But, all of the craziness is over, and I'm back. I hope y'all had a wonderful holiday, and that you enjoy this chapter, even though it's short… ^_^
Camille didn't even know how long she had sat on the couch, crying her eyes out. Actually, the only reason she'd stopped crying was that she simply ran out of tears. She literally couldn't cry anymore. Now, she just felt tired. Exhausted, really. Her eyelids drooped, and she fell into a peaceful sleep, something she hadn't been able to do in a while.
Kendall could feel the rage leaving his system, only to be replaced by an intense wave of shame. He had had no right to blow up at Camille like that-she was trying to help, and, frankly, he and Logan would be a lot worse for wear without her. He felt the anger prick up in him again when a few stray tears escaped his eyes and trailed down his cheeks. God, why did he have to be so weak? Why did he have to get angry, and cry like a baby? Why couldn't he be strong, like Camille? Why?
He groaned in frustration at his conflicting, whirling thoughts, why did such bad things happen to such good people? He didn't know if he would be able to find a better, kinder, more loving person than Logan. He was almost perfect. He didn't deserve this pain, this suffering he was going through right now, no one did. This whole situation was tearing him-tearing them-apart. If something didn't get done soon, he didn't know what would happen.
Suddenly, it was all too much to handle.
Kendall pushed his mind, all of his thoughts and emotion flooding out of his head, leaving a slightly sickening, yet very peaceful nothing. The worry was gone. The pain was gone. The fear was gone.
He was empty.
Logan felt hot tears rolling down his face. He felt so cold. He felt so alone. His friend was dead, the girl he loved was breaking down. And it was all his fault. Horrible guilt coursed through his veins, consuming him, making him feel sick and worthless.
His heart hurt. So much, that it felt like someone was stabbing him with a white-hot poker. The pain was eating at him, ripping and tearing at his mind.
Slowly, he raised himself to stand up, walked a few steps into the bathroom, and locked the door, collapsing to his quivering knees as soon as he was inside. As he glanced around the chilly room, a dark thought slithered into his broken mind.
Unknowingly, his watery chocolate eyes had locked on a single object in the room. He blinked, focusing on what it was.
A razor.
And he had that thought, that one thought, that maybe...
He stood up again, grabbing the sharp object, staring at it.
He never, ever would even dream of doing something like this normally. In fact, he would go pale at the mere thought. But this was different. Maybe this was the solution.
Maybe this would make the pain go away.
A/N: Le gasp! This really took on a mind of it's own… Sorry it was short, I just really needed to get everyone's emotions/situations straight. Next Chapter will be: A) Sooner and B) Longer. Reviews? :)
