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"And what do I get For my pain?"
Bullet With Butterfly Wings ~ Karen O
Feeling the heat rising in her —now red— cheeks, Johanna's jaw clenched. She was boiling with fury, her high blood pressure most definitely through the roof —adrenaline pumping throughout her veins and her head throbbing erratically. She then shot Logan a glare, and his countenance surprised her. He was clearly hurt —his brows furrowed, and his lips formed into a tight frown.
Shaking her head, hot tears running down her cheek, Johanna forced herself to look away. Truthfully, whatever pain he felt, even if it was for her, didn't matter. And to hell with that soft, small voice in the back of her mind —who she called her conscience— that told her she was being callous. Because Logan did seem to care about her. But right now, Logan's concern for her wasn't enough. Because it was neither his or, frankly, anyone else's problem at the moment. Her roommate, and most definitely her only friend, was dead. Johanna had every right to be callous.
"I'm so sorry, Anna." Logan began to apologize, reaching for her hand, which she snatched away. Making up her mind, Johanna nodded.
"I... gotta get outta here," she said, determined; ignoring Logan's presence.
To her, he was just a ghost now. A ghost who apparently brought bad luck. Because if it weren't for him, Lori would still be alive. At least... that's the belief Johanna currently clung onto.
Kicking the covers away, swinging her legs over —which were a little thinner than she remembered— Johanna hopped out of the hospital bed. Taking a couple of wobbly steps, Johanna felt stronger, despite what had happened in the accident. The car crash definitely took a toll on her body... or so she thought; the pain she recalled feeling, was now just a fuzzy memory.
"Now wait just a moment, Anna," Logan demanded, stepping closer. "What the hell are you doing?"
Johanna began violently ripping the needles and the mini ECG electrode pads out and off of her skin —oblivious to the fact that her wounds were beginning to rapidly heal; along with the prominent bruises. Seeing a folded pile of clothes and her jacket on the rolling table near the bed, Johanna began clothing herself in silence, ignoring Logan; who had turned around to give her privacy. But even if he didn't, she didn't care. There was no time for modesty, especially if she wanted to get the hell outta there.
Logan knew what was going on, the decision she'd made, the minute the needle and the tube hit the floor. She was on her own mission... to leave. To escape. Shutting his eyes, gripping the bridge of his nose, Logan was overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of major déjà vu. Wasn't he just here? Disoriented and heavily frustrated, because some stranger was about to poke him with something sharp, just like the scientists had done many times before?
