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Post by Abigail Williams on Jan 29, 2008 23:46:18 GMT -5
"I guess because I couldn't think of a better solution." Abigail took another drag, let out a half-hearted laugh, the flicked some ash from her cigarette. "My mother hates me, and I'm not just talking teenager angst. She blames me for my sister's death. Even told me once she wished it was me that was dead. So I figured what the hell why not disappear, make us both happy. But my dad would always go looking for me and somehow finds me." Closing her eyes, she took one last drag, letting it burn deep, then rubbed it out on the wall. She tucked the butt away into her pocket just incase she could get some reburn off of it.
"So why are you here?" She leaned her head back on the wall enjoying her buzz.
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Post by Abigail Williams on Jan 30, 2008 0:02:47 GMT -5
"Because I couldn't think of anything better to do." She took one last drag, let out a half-hearted laugh, rubbed out the cigarette, then placed the butt in her pocket just incase she could get a reburn of it.
"My mother blames me for my sister's death. Even told me recently she wished it was me that died. So I thought running away you benefit the both of us. But my dad always came looking for me. And this last time, they saw the scars on my arms and decided I needed professional help. I'm diagnosed with depression and as a self-mutilator...I say I'm a product of my neurotic mother. What you in for?" Abigail leaned her head back on the wall enjoying her buzz.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Jan 30, 2008 11:36:15 GMT -5
"I was in deep shit with drugs and dealers," he pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms aroudn them loosely. "I was using and selling. Some drunkass cop arrested me on the street. They told me I'd get a deal if I told them who supplied for me. I was still high, and I told them. Now my dealer, Tommy's in jail for three years, swearing when he gets out he'll kill me. The deal was I don't do jail time, and I come here. Pretty shitty, huh?" He laughed and took the final drag on his cigarette before stamping in out on the carpet.
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Post by Abigail Williams on Jan 30, 2008 11:48:26 GMT -5
"I would say." Abigail didn't know how to respond. She crossed her legs in front of her and turned herself so she faced the side of Logan. "You nervous he will follow through with it?" She then leaned back with her hands proping her up, legs still crossed.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Jan 30, 2008 11:52:29 GMT -5
He sighed. "I don't know. Tommy was always kind of a pussy. I've seen him so people off, but he didn't like it. I'm moving away, getting a new place after I get out of here, but he'll probably still find me. I guess if you're ever gonna have to kill someone, self-defence if the best excuse to get out of the consequences."
Logan thought about what Tommy showing up at his door might lead to. A fight, a struggle, and in the end, one of them would have to die. Logan just hoped it wouldn't be him. Tommy deserved his prison sentence, and more for the people he killed, but the cops told him that they couldn't pin the murders to Tommy, and a druggy's word wouldn't hold up in court. Bullshit. He could've made them believe him.
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Post by Abigail Williams on Jan 30, 2008 12:04:15 GMT -5
"Yeah can't argue that!" Abigail gave a half smile, lifting up the corners of her mouth just slightly. She started thinking about the drunk who killed her sister. After the accident he tried to flee, leaving the both of them pinned down by the vehicle. Luckily a neighbor witnessed what happend and chased down the man who ran them over. His name was Victor and he was 24 y/o football player from the University of Utah. He was charged with manslaughter and now sits in prison for the next 5-15 years. It made Abigail sick to think that he could resume his life but her sister was gone and she was left with all the scars to deal with.
"Aren't you afraid he will send someone after you, rather than him do it himself?"
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 2, 2008 23:30:18 GMT -5
Logan hadn't really thought about that. Tommy had a bunch of friends that would be able to do it; a lot of stupid friends. Nontheless, they were all capable of murder.
"I'm not really scared of anything. I've been down to where I've wanted to die, and almost died. Overdoses and whatnot. But I'm not afraid of death anymore. It's like I've looked it in the face and laughed, you know?" Logan could only imagine the look on his own face. He'd been told that when he talks about death, his mouth breaks into a half smile and he looks like he's been high for years; totally out of it and just not caring.
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Post by Abigail Williams on Feb 3, 2008 0:32:24 GMT -5
"You're lucky you had a chance to laugh. It just passed me right on by." Abigail tried to smile, trying to indicate sarcasm, but mostly the statement was how she felt. It's probably why she cut herself, trying to tempt death every time she cut deeper.
"So, how did you get introduced to the glamourus world of drugs and thugs?" She hoped that he would find her sarcasm and humor amusing rather than annoying.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 3, 2008 14:41:24 GMT -5
"Drugs and thugs. Ha." Logan snorted a bit at the statement. It was cute, and he'd never thought about the drug-dealing-race-not-to-get-shot thing in a rhyming way. It was probably better to rhyme and to make light of a very hard and dark situation. Kind of like they were doing now, sitting in the hallway of a fucking loony bin, smoking on cigarettes and exchanging their lives in words. It was all laughable, really.
"I've been drinking since I was twelve. The family was big into throwing parties, so alcohol was always around. My cousin was the one that introduced me to pot. His friends were just low-dealers, you know? Not hardcore like a lot of the coke dealers. It was just a simple thing. Then I started moving up, met up with some guys that got me on coke for a while. Never really did like it, so I mostly just dealt. I met Tommy a couple years ago and he hooked me up to the big world. This guy had drugs pouring out of his ears. The ladies were always around him and I just thought 'damn, I want to be this guy.' But then I saw him kill a dude who couldn't pay him. Then I started trying to get out of it. That shit's heavy, you know? Haunts you at night."
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Post by Abigail Williams on Feb 3, 2008 19:12:24 GMT -5
"I wouldn't doubt it. I haven't gotten into the drugs yet and I stess yet. I have my own ghost I'm trying to out run. I've dried drinking, more binges than anything else, but it doesn't make it disappear it only makes it louder, you know." Abigail felt the tears welling up. She tried to look up, a trick she heard once to keep the tears in, but she felt one get free and trickle down her check. She quickly wiped it away and hoped Logan hadn't seen it. She hated crying and didn't want to show any weakness in this place, because she didn't want to be pounced on.
"So do you get along with your folks anymore? Or have they written you off?" Abigail furrowed her brow a bit, as memories of her mother crept back.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 3, 2008 21:52:08 GMT -5
"My parents never really knew I exsisted," he paused, repeating the statement in his head and realizing it made no sense. "I mean, of course they knew I was born, they saw me grow up, but they were never really there. Working and shit. They're pissed now because me getting caught with a bunch of drugs and nearly dying of an overdose is an inconvince to them. They had to book a hotel and stay around here so they could come in every other day. I think that will be over soon, though."
He tugged at a fringe on the bottom of his jeans for a moment or two before remembering that he was engaged in a conversation. "So what about you? Parents great or shitty?"
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Post by Abigail Williams on Feb 4, 2008 1:37:28 GMT -5
"Well, my mother blames me for my sister's death. The only time she speaks to me is to either tell me what I've done wrong or how much she wants my sister back. My dad, well he's a good man just trying to keep his family together. We used to be really close but now all I do is break his heart..." Abigail trailed off, staring off down the hall.
"You know, it's really fucked up that adults can treat us like shit but the moment we rebel or stand up to them we get shipped to some shit hole place like this where they try to manipulate us into some mold they think we should be. I bet you money my mother hopes I come back as my sister beautiful and perfect. The apple of her beady little eye."
She pulled her long hair over her shoulder and started playing with curls, seperating the strands through her fingers. "You have any sibilings?"
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 6, 2008 11:28:45 GMT -5
"Yeah," Logan didn't want to talk about it, but the words came spilling out of him anyway. "I've got a little sister. She'll be eight in about a month. I haven't seen her in a while, though. My mom had a habit of kicking me out once and a while. I'd come back in a couple days, and I knew she always missed me, but my mom didn't like that. My mom thought I'd be a bad influence."
He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small photograph. One of those photos that's taken in the back of a WalMart or some other cheap place. It was crinkled and ripping; anyone could tell it was old and abused.
"I carry it with me everywhere I go," Logan said, handing it to Abigail. There was a little girl on it, about two years old. She was smiling a great big smile, pink outfit on and a bow in her black hair to match. Behind her was a boy, Logan, much younger and looking much healthier. There were no dark circles around his bright green eyes, his clothes were not torn, and his black hair was flattened down nicely. "I know Ella loved me back then, and she was the only one."
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Post by Abigail Williams on Feb 6, 2008 14:53:19 GMT -5
Abigail studied the picture. "Well, it sounds like your mom don't know shit. Ella's a cutie. She looks a lot like you." She smiled and handed back the picture. She noticed how Logan's eyes softened as he spoke of his sister.
"I would show you a pic of my sister, but they took away my locket when I came in here. She was beautiful though. We were only 18 months apart. Loved her to pieces. We would spend hours talking about random shit. I don't know how we got along so well, we were such polar opposites. I seemed to always be the screw up, getting the D's and C's, not really involved much with church and school. Carrie..." Abigail paused a moment. It was the first time she had said her sister's name in a long time.
"Carrie was miss perfect. Straight A's, honor classes, president of her sophomore class, and way more involved in church than me. She was mommy's little angel, ya know?"
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 6, 2008 22:16:03 GMT -5
Logan smiled at Abigail telling him that he and Ella looked alike. He liked to think that, but he also thought that she was a lot better than him; innocent and perfect. He was a fuck up, and he knew exactly what Abigail was talking about being compared to her sister like a lesser being.
"I know," he smiled half-heartedly, looking at the picture of him and Ella. "The new baby thing is always like, you know, important. But Ella was always better than me. My mom always wanted a girl, and then she got one. I was just trash. And then I started fucking up worse, so Ella just became more perfect. It's weird how I blame my mom for loving her more, but I don't blame Ella for being loved more. It's something I never figured out. Sibling love, I guess."
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