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evangeline blackwood

When I arrive at the hospital, I see Apollo and Adonis both curled up on the couch. Adonis' hood is pulled over his brown hair. His eyes are shut as his muscular chest rises and fails peacefully with sleep.

"How long have they been asleep?" I ask the nurse on duty quietly so I don't wake them.

Her eyes scanned the clock quickly before replying, "Around two hours, I think."

"Not long enough." I mumble to myself.

"Are you friends with the young boy who came in yesterday?"

"He's their brother." I gesture towards the boys, still completely silent on the couch.

"Your friends are cute." There's a small but warm smile on her face, "You should take a seat though. However much I want to, I can't tell anybody but his guardians about his situation, no matter how much they both ask."

"They've been asking about Phoe?"

"I've been working for nearly 10 hours and they didn't stop until they fell asleep."

"They're just worried." I justify.

"I know, love." She frowns, "I wish I could do more."

I just smile back at her softly before I walk across the tiled floor so I can sit against the wall across from them.

As I watch them, the doors to the room open loudly and make the twins stir at the sound.

I grip my forearm as I watch Adonis wake up. He groans and pushes away from Apollo the moment he realises their close proximity. He widens his eyes once he notices me and I just nod in greeting.

"You're still here?" Oscar emerges from the room, asking the boys softly. "I told you all to go home."

Adonis just shakes his head and Apollo blinks as his eyes begin to open.

"You can all go in but he isn't awake. They sedated him and he's on a tube." Their father says, running a hand through his hair. He looks worse than the twins and that's saying something.

Apollo and Adonis stand up and go to follow their father. But Dee stops for a second before looking at me expectantly.

"What?"

"C'mon." He holds his hand out and I take it, pulling myself up.

He entwined his fingers with mine. Oscar pulls the door open to Phoenix's room. I swallow the lump in my throat when I see the kid just lay there. Still. He's breathing, I can hear his heartbeat, but he still looks like he's dead.

I take this time to fully study him. He's too thin, worryingly so. He must've been doing this to himself for a long time.

His skin is pale, his arms unnaturally hairy.

Lanugo, I realise. It's common with people with anorexia.

I never noticed. Under the array of baggy shirts and oversized hoodies lay a broken shell of a boy.

Beside me, Adonis' grip on my hand tightens considerably. He's biting his lip and, under any other circumstances, I would've been thinking extremely inappropriate things, but now it just hurts me to see him hurting so much.

"I'm going to get off, let me know how he is, okay?" I hug Adonis, kissing his cheek and do the exact same with Apollo.

I'm halfway down the corridor when I hear my name being called so I turned around to see Oscar Walker walking up to me.

"Sorry, did I leave something?" I ask, my eyebrows furrowing.

"No, Donnie and Apollo explained what happened." He explains, sending me a sad smile. "Doctors said his body went into shock, low blood pressure and low blood glucose levels. If you wouldn't have found him and performed CPR, they said it could've been fatal."

I'm silent, mortified that Phoenix's physical condition had deteriorated so severely.

Shit, I should've raised his legs. For blood supply.

I didn't even consider he could be in shock.

"Evan, I don't think you understand what I'm saying." Oscar's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I can tell that he knows I'm confused. "Without you and your quick response, my son could've died."

I don't know what to say.

"Thank you." The amount of gratitude and emotion in his voice is so overwhelming and, as his arms wrap around me, I begin to cry. "I couldn't have gone through that again, I couldn't have lost another one."

*******

"Lo?"

He practically stumbles into my house, holding his ribs with pained grunts escaping his lips.

I sign, grabbing his arm and leading him upstairs to my room. The first aid kit is out within an instant

"Get it off." I demand softly, tugging at the hem of his shirt as I get an ice pack from the mini fridge.

He stays silent, aside from the small wince. Logan won't meet my eyes.

"This needs to stop." I muttered, shaking my head as I wiped the blood off his jaw.

Logan closes his eyes before mumbling, "Why are you so nice to me, E?"

"Fucking hell, Lo." I swallow the lump in my throat, wincing myself at the dark patches on his pale skin. "You and Jonah could've had switched lives. It could've been him involved in all this shit. And if he got hurt...Well, I would want someone to treat him like a human being and not just a criminal. You're so much more than that."

"Times like this, I don't feel like more than that." He admits, his whispered words sending cold shivers down my spine. "I'm going to get us some drinks, I'll be back in a minute."

I throw all the blood-stained tissues into the bin, packing away the kit and putting it under my bed again.

This wasn't the first and I can guarantee it won't be the last time Logan comes to mine after getting into some trouble. A part of me is glad that he sees my home as a safe place to be, trusts me enough with his other life.

I can't judge him for the choices he makes, even if I don't like them. He lives on the streets at 14 for fucks sake, he had to adapt to survive the shit he witnessed and experienced.

"You know, I've known you for 5 years and I never knew you were so domesticated." I laugh slightly as he hands me a mug.

"Fosters taught me some shit." He shrugs, "It's weird not being with them no more."

"How'd it go with them? You don't usually mention it." I ask, taking a sip of the black liquid and watching how Logan's face scrunches up at my question.

"I mean, it was good. I still speak to the Foster Mum sometimes but it's still weird, they never really made me do anything."

"What d'you mean?" My eyebrows furrow. We've never really spoke about his life before being on the streets. All I know is that his Dad didn't accept him and threw him out. I didn't ask questions, I didn't need to.

No matter what happened between them, Logan was 12 when he was kicked out and was on the streets for 2 years.

No one deserves that, no one.

"I dunno, Dad was weird and Mum was never around long enough to stop him. Sometimes he'd make me take shit across town for him, like drug runs. I don't really remember not ever being expected to do something that could get him money. My foster carers never asked me to do out normal, just like washing the dishes once in a while or getting a job just so I had some money behind me."

"You didn't deserve the cards handed to you, you know? You're not a bad person, Lo." I smile at him, hoping that some part of him believes me. I can see it when he sees himself in a mirror or speaks about himself, he doesn't think he's important or that he matters. But he does. To me, to Ashanti.

He's my best friend and I hate that he's had to deal with all this his entire life.

"And hopefully you'll fucking stop doing all this shit. It ain't worth it, It ain't worth the risk of me getting the Police at my door saying my mate's dead."

"You don't stop being a soldier just because you got wounded in battle." He quotes effortlessly, looking at me but not at the same time. His gaze was distant, as though he was reminiscing about something that he couldn't ignore.

I clipped the back of his ear. He cries out in pain, his hand moving from cradling his ribs to his reddening ear instantly.

"Don't try to sweet talk me by quoting Dean Winchester." I snap, "I don't give a fuck. You aren't a soldier, you haven't been injured in battle. You're 19 years old and got fucking hurt while fighting."

"You don't get it."

"I don't it?" I chuckle. There's no humour laced within my laugh. "You seem to forget where I'm from. I get it, I have a basic idea on how hard shit is out there, I know that if you don't get out soon then you're going to be stuck there forever."

"Nah, Ev. You don't get it. In a few years, you're going to fuck off and become one of the most amazing writers the worlds ever seen. 'Shanti is going to be photographing stars like Beyonce and Rihanna. Morgan's going to make a lot of lives better. Apollo's going to be singing at the O2. And I'm going to be here, when I'll always be. It's too late, nothing's going to change that."

"You don't know that, yo-"

"Stop trying to get me to think about how I could actually do well. I ain't smart, I can't rap or kick a ball. You used to get my head fucked up, making me think there was actually a chance to get away from this place, but nah man. This is all I've got."

There's pity in my eyes and I hate it but it sticks. I know he can see it too by the way he draws his eyes from mine. I inhale, "I'd never forgive myself if I lost you too."

"Ev-"

"No, that's something you don't get." I cut him off, "Logan, I can't lose anyone else. Okay? I won't survive it. And if you get cut too deep or your head slams off a pavement, you're gone. Irreversible. You can't play games with your own life because you won't win."

"I know."

The slight waver in his voice hits me full-force.

Swallowing the culminating anxiety in my body, I ask a question that I know I won't get a definite answer to. "You'll stick with us right?"

He nods his head, smiling at me in a way that the authenticity was unclear. "Forever."

Forever. Everything is temporary; everything had a timer. Forever is a sand clock, the little grains disintegrating with every living second until eventually it's gone.

Forever is a promise that no one can certainly keep.

So how was I supposed to know that, to Logan, that forever meant 33 days, 22 hours, 7 minutes and 54 seconds? 

Confession: When you die, nothing else matters. Criminal or not, gang member, etc... None of it matters because you're dead. You're dead and you just rot, six feet below the ground. Eventually, no one is going to remember you. Your legacy is meaningless; Your reputation is void. When you die, it doesn't matter what sort of person you are because everyone is the same at the end.