Chapter 3
Carter walked into the hospital room and saw that Abby was awake, staring at the wall. She jumped when he walked in.
"Abby? Can we talk?"
"About what?" she asked, her expression guarded.
"About what happened."
"There's nothing to talk about," Abby said in a hesitant voice.
Carter knelt down next to the bed. "Abby please, I begging you, tell me what happened. I want to help you. I don't want you to get hurt." Carter held his breath, praying that Abby would tell him the truth.
Abby looked at Carter. She really loved him. He seemed sincere. Maybe he really wanted to help. But what would he do if he found out that her own brother had hurt her?
Carter could see the indecision on her face. "Please, Abby. I love you. I just want to help you. Please tell me who did this to you."
Abby started crying. She didn't want to do this, to tell Carter that her brother was officially insane. She prayed that Eric was okay now.
Carter wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, baby," he said, rubbing her back as she cried. She felt safe in his arms. She knew that, if she told him, he would try to help.
"It- it was Eric," she confessed, wiping tears from her face.
Carter's jaw dropped. "Your brother?" he asked. She nodded, and he was shocked. He was sure that Abby was going to tell him that she had done it, but Eric!
Then again, that made sense. She was trying to protect her brother. Even though he was manic, she didn't want him to get hurt.
"He was manic?" Carter asked, although he already knew the answer. Why else would he attack her?
Abby nodded. "He got mad when I asked him about his medication-" she was cut off by a fresh flood of tears. Talking about what had happened made her feel worse than she thought it would. She was glad Carter was here.
He tightened his arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Abby. I'm sorry he did this to you," Abby nodded. "I am, too," she said.
When she had stopped crying, Carter said, "So what are we going to do?"
"We have to find Eric," Abby said.
"If you press charges, the police will help us look," Carter reminded her.
"I don't want to press charges, John."
"You could drop them after we found him-"
"No. I already got him arrested once. I don't want to do that again."
"So where are we supposed to look?"
"I don't know. I guess we can find out where he was living, and start there. I think maybe he'll call me."
"Why would he call you?"
"Once he's not manic, he'll realize what he did. Hopefully, that will make him willing to get help."
"What if it makes him cycle down?" Carter asked, reminding her of the other part of the disease.
"That's why we have to find him."
_____________________________________________________________________
I sit on the flimsy bed, crying. In the next room, I could hear two people arguing about their rent. Well, when you stay in a cheap motel, you expect thin walls.
I wipe the tears from my face and lay down on the bed. It doesn't matter; they will soon be replaced with new ones. Ever since I got to the motel, it seems like I have been crying nonstop.
I can't believe what I did to Abby. I can't believe that I hurt the one person who has always loved me, who ever truly cared about me. Sure, I've had girlfriends over the years, but they've come and gone. I've always known that Abby was the one person I could count on, the one who would always be there for me. And now I hurt her. I might have even killed her. I wouldn't know, since I was too much of a coward to stick around and at least call an ambulance.
I remember the last time I saw Abby. She was lying on the floor, bleeding, with this shocked expression on her face. She couldn't believe I had hurt her. I can't believe it, either. I can't believe what a monster this disease has turned me into.
I murdered her. Abby is dead now, and it's because of me. I don't see how she could have lived. She was bleeding so much. All because of me.
I realize that there is nothing I can do to fix this, no magic words that will make her better again. I killed her. She's dead, and I'll never see her again.
Another sob escapes my lips, and I realize what a disgusting person I am. The police will probably be coming for me now; I am a murderer. But I deserve to be arrested for this. I deserve to die. I wish I could see her one last time, tell her how sorry I am for all of this.
I wish it wasn't my fault.
I don't think I can live with all this guilt.
I realize what I have to do.
Carter walked into the hospital room and saw that Abby was awake, staring at the wall. She jumped when he walked in.
"Abby? Can we talk?"
"About what?" she asked, her expression guarded.
"About what happened."
"There's nothing to talk about," Abby said in a hesitant voice.
Carter knelt down next to the bed. "Abby please, I begging you, tell me what happened. I want to help you. I don't want you to get hurt." Carter held his breath, praying that Abby would tell him the truth.
Abby looked at Carter. She really loved him. He seemed sincere. Maybe he really wanted to help. But what would he do if he found out that her own brother had hurt her?
Carter could see the indecision on her face. "Please, Abby. I love you. I just want to help you. Please tell me who did this to you."
Abby started crying. She didn't want to do this, to tell Carter that her brother was officially insane. She prayed that Eric was okay now.
Carter wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay, baby," he said, rubbing her back as she cried. She felt safe in his arms. She knew that, if she told him, he would try to help.
"It- it was Eric," she confessed, wiping tears from her face.
Carter's jaw dropped. "Your brother?" he asked. She nodded, and he was shocked. He was sure that Abby was going to tell him that she had done it, but Eric!
Then again, that made sense. She was trying to protect her brother. Even though he was manic, she didn't want him to get hurt.
"He was manic?" Carter asked, although he already knew the answer. Why else would he attack her?
Abby nodded. "He got mad when I asked him about his medication-" she was cut off by a fresh flood of tears. Talking about what had happened made her feel worse than she thought it would. She was glad Carter was here.
He tightened his arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Abby. I'm sorry he did this to you," Abby nodded. "I am, too," she said.
When she had stopped crying, Carter said, "So what are we going to do?"
"We have to find Eric," Abby said.
"If you press charges, the police will help us look," Carter reminded her.
"I don't want to press charges, John."
"You could drop them after we found him-"
"No. I already got him arrested once. I don't want to do that again."
"So where are we supposed to look?"
"I don't know. I guess we can find out where he was living, and start there. I think maybe he'll call me."
"Why would he call you?"
"Once he's not manic, he'll realize what he did. Hopefully, that will make him willing to get help."
"What if it makes him cycle down?" Carter asked, reminding her of the other part of the disease.
"That's why we have to find him."
_____________________________________________________________________
I sit on the flimsy bed, crying. In the next room, I could hear two people arguing about their rent. Well, when you stay in a cheap motel, you expect thin walls.
I wipe the tears from my face and lay down on the bed. It doesn't matter; they will soon be replaced with new ones. Ever since I got to the motel, it seems like I have been crying nonstop.
I can't believe what I did to Abby. I can't believe that I hurt the one person who has always loved me, who ever truly cared about me. Sure, I've had girlfriends over the years, but they've come and gone. I've always known that Abby was the one person I could count on, the one who would always be there for me. And now I hurt her. I might have even killed her. I wouldn't know, since I was too much of a coward to stick around and at least call an ambulance.
I remember the last time I saw Abby. She was lying on the floor, bleeding, with this shocked expression on her face. She couldn't believe I had hurt her. I can't believe it, either. I can't believe what a monster this disease has turned me into.
I murdered her. Abby is dead now, and it's because of me. I don't see how she could have lived. She was bleeding so much. All because of me.
I realize that there is nothing I can do to fix this, no magic words that will make her better again. I killed her. She's dead, and I'll never see her again.
Another sob escapes my lips, and I realize what a disgusting person I am. The police will probably be coming for me now; I am a murderer. But I deserve to be arrested for this. I deserve to die. I wish I could see her one last time, tell her how sorry I am for all of this.
I wish it wasn't my fault.
I don't think I can live with all this guilt.
I realize what I have to do.
