Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Beautiful Dead, all rights belong to Eden Maguire.
I watched as Darina dug herself deeper and deeper into depression. She wasn't eating, she was barely sleeping! She'd just cried, until all her tears had run dry. I hated Hunter right now. It was his fault that I was here, watching her waste away, when I should be comforting her. He told me that I could watch her and make sure she's safe, doesn't tell anybody, sticks to the task... Blah, blah, blah. But I couldn't distract her from that task. Hunter says that the more she sees me, the more she wants to see me, and she's less inclined to help the others because she's too distracted. I think he's wrong; I think that if Hunter let me see Darina more often then Darina would be more likely to do as he says. But what do I know? — I'm just one of the Beautiful Dead, not an all-knowing, all-powerful overlord.
And I know that sounds incredibly selfish and all, what with Summer's time almost being up, but Darina needs me! If I had the power, I would do anything right now if it meant that I got my Darina back. This Darina was just a shell of the girl that I loved. Right now she was in so much pain that I would travel across universes and bring Logan back, just so she could be happy again. And, yeah, I really mean that; even though I was sometimes jealous of him because he got to be a part of Darina's life when I couldn't.
It was completely irrational and stupid, but I was still jealous of him. I guess it could be justified by the fact that I'm a teenage boy, but I wasn't looking to make excuses for myself; I was man enough to admit that I was jealous.
Why was I jealous? Because Darina hadn't reacted this way when I'd died.
I knew it was irrational because she'd found the Beautiful Dead before she'd had a chance to. But isn't jealousy always irrational? But I loved Darina a great deal more than I was jealous, so it was easy to ignore that part of me.
I looked at her again. Really looked. She was pale and drawn, she looked too thin, and she had dark circles under her eyes, which were all bloodshot and puffy. But beyond that, it just got worse.
There was a haunted look in her eyes, like she'd seen far too much pain for a person so young. Which is exactly what she had seen. Hell, she'd seen far more pain and loss in the space of a year than most adults had seen in their entire lifetime!
As if that wasn't enough, she looked lost. She looked like there was nothing holding her to the world anymore, she was just floating around in some other place. Like Wendy Darling, on her way to Neverland. Except Darina wasn't flying, she was falling. My death was just the beginning, and now she was falling faster and faster and soon she'd hit the bottom. As much as I wanted to believe that I'd do anything to stop that from happening, I knew that I couldn't. I wanted so desperately to go to her, comfort her, to let her know that she still had me to hold on to, that I would be there to catch her before she hit the bottom. But I couldn't. I'd once told her that I'd always be there for her, no matter what happened. But that wasn't true anymore, and instead of doing all those things like I wanted to, like a normal boyfriend would be able to, I felt Hunter's overlord powers pulling me in the other direction. The wrong direction. Away from Darina.
I moved my eyes to the direction of the ceiling just for the sake of something new to look at. I'd been staring at the wall again. It bothered me that I had to move even that much. I really didn't want to. Actually, I didn't want to do much of anything anymore. It had been three whole days.
Three whole days since I'd eaten. Since I'd slept properly. Since I'd left this room. Since my whole world had imploded and left me hanging, in the vast, empty universe. Three whole days since my Logan had died.
My Logan had died.
I still couldn't wrap my head around the idea that those words applied to reality, and not some random nightmare I'd had.
And the worst thing of all, was that my Logan had died because of me. He'd been looking for me. Trying to help me. Because he loved me. Even after I'd rejected him for my Beautiful Dead boyfriend. He really had been my Logan until the end.
Logan had always been there for me; he was a constant in my messed-up life. And I'd taken him for granted. I hadn't really appreciated him until recently, and then it was too little too late. He'd been there for me before everything: Phoenix, the Beautiful Dead. He was there through all of that, and he was still there after I pushed him away. But now he was gone.
Now he couldn't come back. No matter how much I wished he would.
These past three days without Logan have been like a horrible nightmare. I was floating around in the universe with nothing to hold onto, and any moment now I'd start falling, but I didn't know when that would be. I was just hanging in an empty space. And not just in my mind, either. I'd lost touch with everyone. I hadn't spoken to Laura, I hadn't yelled at Jim. I hadn't spoken to Byron Lavelle, I hadn't even seen any of my friends. And most importantly I'd lost touch with the Beautiful Dead.
The Beautiful Dead.
I hadn't even thought about them. For once, I didn't want to think about them. Not even Phoenix; he'd lied to me. But more than that, they just made me feel more lost. They just emphasised the fact that I didn't really know what I was doing. Summer's time was almost up, and I'd done nothing to help her. They made me feel like a story-book character, because here I was in a world that wasn't my own; their world. And they didn't age, nothing changed for them. They just were. And then they went on.
But then there was me. I was getting older, sure, but I wasn't moving on. I was a part of their world now because I couldn't let go. I couldn't move on. I didn't want things to change, I wanted them to stay as they were. So I was like a lost boy; a child that wanted never to grow up.
Things just didn't fit into place anymore. Jonas, Arizona, Summer and Phoenix had all died. Phoenix had lied to me. And then Logan had died. The pain I felt when I thought of those people was so bad, I physically felt it; like someone had punched me in the stomach and I could hardly breathe anymore. My world was falling apart, and I couldn't fix it. I'd distanced myself from my family, and my friends. The people that love me, my reasons to carry on. And now there was nothing left but torn and tattered pieces of me, Darina, with nothing holding them together.
I couldn't find my way home, a way to carry on. But I had to try.