For the last two weeks Logan has been staying in a room next to mine. Makes it for the nurses more convenient, they can dope us both without too much hassle when nightmares strike again. It’s weird. It looks almost as if we were dreaming the same dreams. When I have an easier night, so does Logan. When I wake up screaming and puking my guts out, same kind of screams and cries greet me from through the wall.
“I win. Yippee.”
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He just sits when nurses help him to the day room. Sits and stares forward. Sometimes I sit with him and pretend that we’re playing one of those god-awful board games they keep reserved for us loonies.
“You look a bit better today.”
At least he’s grown some skin over his skull. It won’t take long before his hair starts to grow back. At least I hope so. He looks creepy. No eyelashes. No beard. No chops. No hair or eyebrows. Just smooth, pink skin. Makes me sick. I can still see in my mind’s eye how he was just few months ago. Bits and pieces falling off from him when he moved. Large flaps of decayed flesh and skin, well cooked, peeling off and revealing metal skeleton. I can still smell the stench of electricity and burnt blood.
“Hungry?”
And there comes the food cart. Fuck. I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and pretend that roasted beef is actually good when all I can think of is Logan shedding his skin and flesh. I’m going to take my tray and go to my room to eat. I’m a bastard. The least I could do was to keep him company, but I just can’t. I can’t when he just stares at me. He doesn’t even blink, for Christ’s sakes! And he’s drooling. I can’t…
“Kid?”
“Logan?”
His hand is on my hand, those fingers around my wrist and I’m going to drop the tray and scream if he doesn’t let go soon! His flesh is so soft and spongy, it’s like those maggots and I’m going to scream… Can’t scream. Can’t… He just spoke for the first time in God knows how long…
“Logan?”
“Kid.”
“It’s me.”
“Kid.”
“I’m Marie.”
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In retrospect it wasn’t the smartest thing to do to start screaming when Logan refused to let go of my hand. It was downright stupid. But I couldn’t help myself. I could see him, first eaten by maggots, slimy white and stringy thingies crawling over his skin, burrowing in and out of him, spreading in to me. I could see him cooking alive, flesh burning and melting and bubbling from the radiation. So I screamed. Logan freaked out and clawed first of the nurses that was coming to my aid because he thought that the nurse was attacking me. It took them better part of an hour to get him sedated and restrained. Thank God he didn’t kill anybody.
At least he’s speaking now. Even if it is just one syllable. And he was looking at me instead of staring off in to space.
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