Logan and Leroy

Leroy, a bodybuilder, in his twenties, and Logan, in his twenties, was a grocery associate. They talked about their days by the fireplace.

“I think we need to talk about us. This has gone on far too long, but we need to break up,” Leory told Logan as he stood, fists clenched, and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“But why? It’s been going so well between us,” Logan replied as he slowly removed his blue smock. He changed into an undershirt and sweatpants. Eyes welled with tears, but they didn’t fall. He sniffled his nose and tried to stay strong.

Leroy slowly lurched into the bed of their bedroom and threw Logan’s belongings out the window. His eyes seemed to bludge and his face reddened as he threw each article of clothing in crumpled balls onto the grassy ground below.

“You can’t do this to me. We’ve been together for so long,” Logan said to his ex-partner as he stood by the window, covered his face, and within a brief movement, removed his hands.

Leroy pushed Logan out the window and he slammed his head onto the pavement. He passed out from all the pain. An ambulance arrived and dropped him off at the hospital.

Leroy was arrested for attempted murder.

A few weeks later, in the hospital, Logan awoke from his coma, and asked, “Who am I? ”He tilted his head, pursed his lips. “Who am I?” He glanced around as if he were looking for answers.

His mother was honest with him, “You’re Logan Ite, and you had an accident. Your ex-boyfriend pushed you out of a window.” She tugged at her hair and strands of hair fell out.

“Really? I don’t remember any of this,” Logan replied, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His mind raced looking for answers, but the synapses weren’t flaring. All he could of was, Who is this woman? What am I doing? He tried to get up, but his mother pushed him back down.

“Do you remember this?” She clung to the stuffed animal from his past, handed it to him, and sat down. “Do you remember Beary? Your stuffed bear from when you were ten.”

He snatched the bear from her hands and synapses flared in his brain as he remembered. It reminded him of his mother, but not his ex-boyfriend. His body jolted a little.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey, it’s me.”

Logan jumped out of bed, but the needle attached to his arm, which gave him fluids, ripped out of his arm. The nurse’s eyes widened as she rushed to his aide, re-attached the needle, and lay him back in the hospital bed.

The smell of cologne from a doctor in the hall filled the air and reminded Logan of his ex-boyfriend. “Leroy? Are you here?” He clung to his mother’s hand and squeezed in the hope it was him.

“Honey, Leroy was arrested for attempted murder. He’s in jail now,” his mother said with her movements slowed from exhaustion.

Logan stayed in the hospital for months until he fully recovered. He lived with his mother until he found an apartment of his own.

He found an apartment by the grocery store and could walk there if he wanted. No one would stop him from getting better mentally and physically. He worked almost every day but had weekends off.

He jumped up for joy when his birthday, February 3rd arrived. He listened to his favorite song, Good For Me/Bad For Me. A song similar to Selena Gomez’s “Good For You”, but the lyrics are changed. A Birthday cake arrived at his door with a card attached and it said:

Happy Birthday! Sorry,

I couldn’t be there. I was

needed at the factory.

Have a great day, honey.

Love,

Mom

She texted him on her lunch break. The left text is his mother and the right is him.

Happy Birthday!

Thank you.

Are you doing anything special?

I might go out with some friends.

Have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.

He flipped over his phone and texted his friends that he was ready for a night of fun. His friends,

Blake and Sabina picked him up at his apartment building. He was ecstatic, he smiled, and bought gifts for his friends. A single pale rose and the enveloped card with a blue ribbon.

At the bowling alley, he handed Sabina the rose carefully so as to not cut her from the thorns. As for the other gift, he handed the card to his friend. Blake opened the card and 20 dollars fell out and onto the floor.

“Thanks, it must be for the pizza I bought you all those times,” Blake said with a hug to his friend.

Logan got strike after strike. He jumped after every strike. He wore his long sleeve from his high school bowling league to commemorate the occasion.

“How are you feeling–after the accident?” Sabina asked Logan with little to no hesitation.

“Better, I feel like I should visit Leroy in prison though.”

“What? You shouldn’t, he’s extremely toxic, and in case you forgot, he pushed you out of a window.” Blake said as he bowled a spare.

Logan left the bowling alley and took an Uber to the prison. His friends tried to stop him, but he was too fast.

At the prison, he looked for Leroy. He clinked his right hand on the empty cell bars until he found Leroy’s cell at the end of the hall also known as Hell for Leroy.

Leroy, even more muscular, shook his head in confusion, eyebrows squished together and shocked, “Logan, what are you doing here?”

“I came to visit you.”

“But I pushed you out our window.”

“I just came to say, you ruined my life.”

“I apologize.”

“I don’t accept your apology. I have to go.” Logan ran off, flushed in the face, and called his mother to pick him up. She dropped him off back at his apartment.