Abigail

Chapter 6

“Where is it?” Nick fumed, staring at my mattress leaning up against the wall and struggling not to attack me. James and Drake were here, probably so that Nick didn’t lunge at me in anger, but I don’t think Nick would do that. He hasn’t done it in a really long time.

                “I-I don’t have it. I swear.” I cried, crossing my arms tighter and staring down at the messy ground. Nick went on a rampage and tore apart everything in our room, even his and Alex’s stuff.

                He flung his arms in the air. “It has to be somewhere. It couldn’t have gotten up and walked away. Unless that f*cking psycho head of yours thinks it did.”

                “I’m not crazy!” I screamed, crying harder because I knew I was lying. I wanted to believe so bad that it was true, but I know I will never be normal.

                “Like hell you aren’t!” he yelled, kicking one of my pillows that he ripped the case off of. “Look at yourself, Abigail, you’re fighting for what? A razor? Is it f*cking worth it?”

                “Yes, it’s the only thing that makes me feel better.”

                “If it makes you feel better than why are you still like this?” he shouted, going into his and Alex’s closet and picking up my only other pair of shoes. He stuck his hand inside and I closed my eyes, knowing what he was going to find. “Really, Abigail?”

                He pulled out the two bottles of sleeping pills and stared at them before angrily turning on his feet towards the bathroom. I begged him to stop and took off after him, falling to the ground next to the toilet just as Nick dumped the first bottle.

                “Stop it, Nick, please. I need those!”

                I wrestled him for the second bottle, but he ending up pushing me off and I lay splattered on the ground, crying even harder. I felt dizzy from not eating in so many days and my stomach was telling me it was going to throw up if only there was food inside of it. The voices in your head say that hungry is strong, but you only feel weak when you don’t eat. To the point of not being able to function properly.

                “What else are you hiding?”

                I couldn’t answer because I feared something other than words would come out if I opened my mouth, even though my stomach’s empty. I couldn’t move, my body shook like it might fall apart any second. My vision was black again and if I could describe the feeling it felt oddly like dying.

                “Abby?” Drake asked, turning me over and lightly slapping my face. My vision began to clear, very slowly, but eventually I could make out the shape of Drake’s face. “You have to get up.”

                The pain in my chest made me cough, hoping it would go away, but it didn’t. “I can’t. Everything hurts.”

                “Then I’m taking you to the hospital, Abby. You have to get up.”

                I began sobbing again, begging him not to take me. I didn’t want to end up in the mental hospital again because they never helped, they always made me worse. “I’m fine, I promise.”

                “No you’re not.”

                I rolled over onto my stomach and slowly got up, using the sink for support. Immediately I turned around and hovered over the toilet, opening my mouth to gag and spit, even though nothing came out. My stomach hurt more than anything and I prayed I wouldn’t cough up blood again. I’m not ready to go to the hospital.