Their footsteps echoed as they ran together, the sound of their breathing poetically sang together, until they both eventually came to a standstill. Their eyes instantly met, he couldn’t close his feelings; though, a pain in his heart struck as she suddenly began to turn her back to him. He squeezed his hands together and kept moving forward. Though, her fast and aggressive walking was worrying him.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling when they both entered her house; being that close on deaths door made him appreciate life. Although, he had experienced being on the edge of hell before, it just didn’t feel the same. He questioned to himself, is it Annabelle?

The room felt cold as Annabelle stormed off to her room, yet he didn’t need a coat. He knew he only needed one thing; though, he couldn’t admit, not even to himself. So, he tried to ignore her and go to sleep in his self-made bed. He could bet with himself that she would do the same thing. The look on her face was colder than the depths of the ocean as she left the room, he thought.

His bed felt foreign to him and with a sigh, he let the world know how he felt. He wondered if sleep was even on the cards. Everything in his mind was telling him to focus on her. Her? Why her? He continued to ask himself. Logan tensed his whole body in anger as he continued to feel sleep deprived. With his flesh turning red, he brushed the sweat off his forehead and crawled out of bed. He could not stop thinking about her, every thought led to her image in his head.

He moved through the house like an elephant, not caring what he walked into but when he got near the dining table, he saw his weapons. He had left them there before going to bed. As he looked at them, death stared back ruthlessly and he could hear the cries echo out the chamber. One by one, soul by soul, they screamed out for their live. “Am I a monster?” He questioned his sanity over and over again. Yet, the feeling of not caring was the easier path to take. And he knew that he would walk it his whole life. A lonely life it would be but that is how he enjoyed it.

Suddenly, a pain hit his heart, one that didn’t give up and it reaped his respect. He began to crave for the pain to stop as he wondered if being lonely was really what he wanted. The pain swallowed him up and he ran to the kitchen cupboard. With nothing else on his mind, his hand reached for the bottle of whiskey, the smell creeped into his soul and he began to feel healed. As the golden whiskey was pouring like a fountain, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing and he downed the whiskey until his throat could feel no longer.

He gasped for air as the glass hit the wooden kitchen counter. Yet, as soon as air filled his lungs, he instantly sank another glass of whiskey; though, instead of gasping, he sighed to the ceiling, not knowing the feeling he was experiencing. All his mind could do was wonder and wonder, until there was no wondering but only knowing. He could not change fate; he knew that now.

Could he embrace such a feeling? He thought and thought.

He was fighting his mind, going back and forth, with not an answer insight, he smashed the counter with his bare hands, slightly hoping she would hear him. He knew if he embraced it, then losing it would tear him apart again, could he risk it? The winds blew from the slightly open window while Logan tried to answer his own questions. Questions that made feel out if his head.

His pointless thoughts became sickly and his hand rushed to the glass of whiskey, which he was happy that he had already poured it. Though, once he drank it, he looked at the bottle and realised it was empty. With nothing left, he was quickly searching the other cupboards but to no avail.

Logan’s palms began to grow wet from sweat, his gullet felt like he was swallowing sand and it felt like someone banging his head against the floor.

He needed it. Needed release. Yet, every place he looked, it wasn’t there, just the emptiness that was seen and felt. The only thing on his mind was the scratchy whiskey hitting his rough, sandy lips and entering his mouth like a water fountain. But his frustration grew and grew. The emptiness grew. The loneliness grew. And his dreadful thoughts grew.

He sank to the floor like a ship sinking under water. His knees vibrated against the floor as the tears on his cheek fell to the floor. He didn’t feel like a man. He didn’t feel like himself. Logan thought, had he lost himself, lost himself to himself.

Nothing felt the same to him. He was thinking like a different person, he thought. Was he in control of his mind? Was this plane of existence already set for him and all he had to do was walk it? His mind felt dizzy as he wondered on how to get more whiskey. More whiskey.

His broken mind began to move towards the kitchen. He rechecked the cupboards as his frustration turned into pure anger. He shouted, “Clay, I will end you… I will take your hopes away from you.” The ceiling was taking all threats as he felt like the only person on earth.

Suddenly, the door was opening, making Logan wipe his eyes and run towards the table. He was grabbing his pistol as the person walked in. He was looking forward to using his silver pistol until the voice said, “oh… you’re here. I wasn’t expecting you to be back. How come you’re awake?”

Logan replied, “couldn’t sleep, Jim.” Jim watched Logan look back at the table in a deep stare. He was about to walk straight past; though, Logan stopped Jim by saying, “where did you go after you shown me where Clay was gonna be? And… thank you for telling me.”

Logan stared at Jim’s back as he listened to his reply, “to be honest, Logan… I was never expecting to see you again, and I went to the saloon, the drink was needed.” He was now looking at Jim’s face. “I know what happened, Logan. I heard from one of the bandits I work with. You were close… well… from what I heard.”

Logan’s reply was quick and responsive, “I don’t know about that, but I’m glad your sister was there.”

“So that was her… no doubt she helped you; she hated the idea of something happening to you.” Logan’s face started to brighten and Jim started to walk away. Yet Logan didn’t hear a bye. “You seem like you need a drink and I could continue to drink. How about a night cap?”

“Yeah, I drank the whiskey in the cupboard.” Logan’s words turned from hopeful to cold and distant.

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Jim looked at him as he changed his walking direction to his room. “Don’t worry. I have a nice bottle in my room.” Logan smiled as he thought about downing another glass of whiskey. Though, he couldn’t believe he didn’t check in Jim’s room.

Logan couldn’t wait for Jim to get back, the cravings could be felt in his chest and the sweat that dripped from his forehead. He was licking his lips, trying to get rid of the cracks on his lips, not anything could cure it, except for the whiskey he was waiting for, he thought. The longer he was waiting, the more he was hating Jim, and he was just starting to like him. To Logan’s surprise, Jim walks in at just the right time. His sweating stops instantly as he grabs the bottle of whiskey out of Jim’s perspiring hands.

Logan, once again, poured the whiskey down his throat. “Cheers for pouring my drink,” as Jim walked over and poured a drink of his own. Jim, with his steady hand, downed the whiskey and expressed himself by licking his lips and closing both his eyes.

While gasping for air, Logan spoke, “sorry I didn’t pour you one but I needed it more.” They were both sat at the table as Logan, with his shaky hand, was pouring the whiskey. He also licked his lips and embraced the smell that ran through his nose holes. The stinging smell lingered in his nose. Yet, Logan could see Jim was waiting for something but he couldn’t figure out what it was until he asked, “what do you want?

Jim replied, “what? Are you not gonna tell me what happened?”

After Logan explained what had actually happened, they both shared a laugh together; though, it ended quickly because Logan went straight back to drinking and thinking. He could tell Jim was keeping his eyes on him and Logan began to question why? He wasn’t a funny feller was he, Logan thought? Logan, after finishing his drink, laughed to himself, and then proceeded to pour another.

Jim took his eyes off Logan and gave a stern look while his eyes moved to the bottle of whiskey. “Hey,” his stern look turned on logan, “go easy on that bottle; it’s the only one and you’re drinking like you’ve gotten one day to live.”

Logan laughed and replied, “surprised ya got the bottle to stand up for yaself. Where has this backbone been?”

Jim laughed it off and changed the conversation, “where’s my sister?” His voice was croaky and Logan could tell Jim didn’t want to ask the question. He pointed to her room and hoped to look as uninterested as possible. Though, it did not stop him from pursuing the subject.

“So, you’ve had a fight then? Or something has happened, right?” As Logan continued to drink, Jim continued to ask, “what’s going on with you two, anyway?” The question sent shockwaves through Logan’s chest as he started to panic when searching for an answer. As he tried to answer, his hand stumbled to the bottle of whiskey. Yet, the whiskey poured first while Jim waited and waited for an answer. Though, Jim began to smirk when Logan failed to answer, sighed and downed his newly poured drink.

“I’m glad you both made it, anyway.” Logan felt his words as they both clinked their glasses together. It made Logan feel less lonely as Jim continued to speak, “I’ve not heard anything more about the bank job but… I’m getting a good feeling that we could intercept it,” Logan face showed nothing but doubt as Jim’s voice turned weak, “come on; have hope! I haven’t seen them this low on numbers before.”

Logan’s words were strong and quick like a wave, “you really think we can do this? She doesn’t even want us to fight the gang. How? When she is being a coward.”

“Please. She… she cares for us and doesn’t want us to die for something as petty as revenge.” Logan looked down at the table as Jim continued to speak, “and you’ve got to give her a break, she is not used to being able to not look after, or boss someone around. But if I know my sister, and I know my sister, she will want to take their score off them.” Jim’s words turned sharp like a sword, “trust me on that.”

He was taken back by how strict Jim was being. Yet, he knew it was an act, so he tried to intimidate him with his words. “She acted like a self-righteous bitch earlier, so what’s gonna be the difference when the time comes to rob the bank because I’ll do it on my own, if she hasn’t got the bottle.”

“Trust me! She’s got the bottle,” Jim started to bite his lip as Logan didn’t respond but went to pour another glass, his eyesight was blurry when he watched the golden whiskey glide. He passed Jim the bottle after and downed the drink while maintaining himself up with the other arm. The glass pounded on the table and Jim said softly, “be careful, she’s likely sleeping.”

Logan gave him a stare that lasted a lifetime. He then began to speak candidly, “so, why do you still live with her?” Jim sat, staring at the bottle and with no answer in sight, Logan pushed further, using words, “I mean no offense but… well… you guys clearly don’t get on all that well. Don’t you want to see the world?”

Jim spoke with his eyes looking to the bottle, “We’ve only had each other… since very young… so she’s looked after the both of us and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jim’s skinny body turned less passive as he continued to speak, “she is the strongest person I know… like I said… don’t understate her. She’s stronger than both of us.” Logan began to chuckle. “Is something wrong, did I make a joke?”

Logan quickly responded, “no… sorry but I would have moved out a long time ago. Well… I just know how tough it is to live with a sibling. And… well it doesn’t matter.”

Jim eyes exploded. “Did you have a sister too?” Logan didn’t answer as Jim poured another drink and explored further. “What? A brother? Where are they?”

Logan suddenly, after downing his drink, banged his glass on the table and spoke with fire in his eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore!” Logan felt his chest get tight and tighter, until he poured another glass and it relieved some pressure. Though, as the last drip of whiskey hit his lips, he felt anger appear out of nowhere. He thought everything was against him, the world, the people and even the ones he loved; although, he knew the loved ones had disappeared long ago. Everything he tried failed. Everything he wanted would be impossible to get. Everything that he wanted to keep would disappear. Nothing would last.

His bottle of whiskey seemed low to him which fuelled his anger like gas to a flame. He turned to Jim and callously spoke, “watch…” Logan began to stumble his words, “me… her. She… her will… she will fail us. I… know it.” After his last word, he burped a couple of times and after opening his eyes, Jim’s face looked like he wanted to murder him. Logan was laughing with anger in his eyes, “If… you… you want to hit me… then. Actually… you won’t do fuck all.” Logan’s eyes continued to glamour with fire. “You are nothing but a coward, Jim.”

Jim’s eyes kept to the table as he said, “you don’t know nothing, Logan.” Suddenly, before he could reply, Annabelle opened her bedroom door and stomped towards them. Logan’s heart began to pound because he then realised, he could hardly walk.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck? Get the fuck out of our house!” She stomped her foot, pointed her finger towards the door and continued to shout, “I fucking mean it, if you don’t… I swear down on my life, you’ll be breathing through a windpipe, if I let you.”

Logan didn’t say a word as his legs barely moved him towards the door. The dread hit him when she started to walk towards him with her hand on her gun. Yet, when he got near the door, she opened it and threw him out like a dog.

He walked and walked. The loneliness hit him like a brick to the face; though, his mind went blank and then all he saw was the darkness as he hit the harden ground.

The path continued to mock, scare and leave him soulless. Yet he did not change path, he couldn’t, the path was there to be walked and he had no control over it. He walked and walked, until his brother appeared next to him, passing him a shotgun. Logan hated the shotgun, yet he accepted it like it was candy. They both walked with guns in their hands, ready to take on the world.

Logan looked at his brother, thinking how he never wanted his brother to leave. Yet the word leave repeated out loud and echoed through his body and as he looked to his brother, he had gone. Logan eyes widen as a hot sweat rushed over his boy and weighed him down to his knees. Logan screamed as he realised his brother was gone.