Abigail

Chapter 28 (Last Chapter)

Oh my God you guys!!!!! This is it. I'm literally crying because I love this book so much. I've put every single one of my emotions in this book and it is all honest. I appreciate all the love and support and I wish I could repay you all for helping me through a very difficult time in my life. I love you all so much. And I feel for anyone who can relate to any part of this. Mental illness is very hard to live with and I've lost so much of my life because of it. I'm so sorry to anyone else who has to suffer at the hands of it.

This is the last chapter. Maybe one day I'll do a spin-off or write a little something about where they are in future, but probably not until I go through and edit this baby. I appreciate you all so much and every comment, vote, like, message, whatever; it means to the world to me.

I do have other books started that I will be posting soon, this is not the end of me! Just the beginning. (Please message me for details if you would like to make a book cover for me)

Chapter 28

The fresh air feels good against my pale skin. The long, dark days of winter are gone and I can finally leave the house without five layers of clothes. It seems that whenever I leave the house the sun hides from me and the darkness continues to surround me. Finally, I am in the light.

I look around at the beautiful scenery, admiring the beauty of nature. Miles of forest land spreads out in front of me and I listen to the sounds of the wind and the birds.

I want to stay here forever and watch the sun rise and fall on the horizon of the trees. I want to wake to the birds chirping and the sun shining through my window. I want to be free.

Without a doubt, I have broken free of the chains that my mental illness has wrapped me in. I know it will always follow me and I will never be completely erased of disease, but I can breathe. I can smile and I can eat. I can wake up without questioning why I did. I can overcome an issue without trying to solve it through suicide. I can live.

I sigh peacefully, returning to the brisk air inside. I lock the sliding glass door and close the curtain, wondering where I had left my phone.

It's been three months since the accident and I have never felt more alive. It took near death for me to finally feel alive. It could have been both better and worse, but I try not to think about it either way.

Too many of my bones were broken, my hip shattered like glass. My heart had stopped numerous times on the operating table, but somehow I kept coming back. It took me a long time to stop asking why I didn't die and to be thankful that I lived. Due to my previous conditions of malnourishment and self- harm, my body was far too fragile to begin with. That's why my bones broke and my heart stopped. I was in a self-induced coma for about a month, which allowed for some healing, but not enough.

It took months for me to learn how to walk again and simple tasks like using the bathroom and eating. Everything hurt so bad, but no one would let me give up.

They pumped water and nutrients into me, causing my body to blow up like a balloon, but I try not to think about it. I tried losing the weight, but I soon realized I need to eat so my body could heal. I began with one meal a day, if that, and have worked my way up to about two, sometimes more, sometimes less. I don't count the pounds I put on, although I know enough to count without a scale.

I have been moved around like a prisoner for several months, from hospital to hospital to therapy to impatient program to the psych ward. So many people wanted to fix me, but there were far too many problems for me to heal overnight. The doctor's weren't happy about anything when it came to me. They were upset with my malnourishment and lack of eating -until I eventually let myself eat. They almost reported Nick for child abuse when they realized the bruises on my throat were not from the vehicle. I don't know how he got out of it, I wasn't told much and I had to figure most things out on my own.