Chapter 7
Carter and Susan exchanged a nervous glance. They knew how upset Abby was; reading the letter would just make her feel worse. But she had heard them talking about it, so there wasn't much they could do but let her read it. Reluctantly, Susan handed her the letter.
Abby slowly unfolded the letter and began to read.

Dear Mom, I killed Abby. I'm very sorry. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to. I got mad at her and killed her with a knife. She's dead now, and it's all my fault. I still have the knife. I'm going to use it to kill myself now. It is the only way. I can never live with the guilt of knowing that I killed my own sister. I didn't mean to do this. It's the disease. It made me into a terrible person. I can't live like this.

Eric

P.S. I'm sorry.

Frozen with shock, Abby gripped the letter as she read it once again. "I don't understand," she whispered, clutching the piece of paper. It was the last thing Eric would ever write. "Eric thought he killed me?"
Carter nodded. "I don't know why, but he did."
Abby suddenly realized something. "Maggie killed herself because of this letter." She gulped back her tears, then continued. "She killed herself because she thought we were both dead."
Both Carter and Susan kept their eyes on Abby, wondering how she would respond to this terrible news. She stood there, stock still, absorbing this new information. Suddenly, with a ferocity that Carter had never seen in her before, she ripped the letter in half and threw it on the floor. "Why did this have to happen?" she screamed. "This is so unfair! It's so STUPID!"
By now she was sobbing uncontrollably. Carter stood up and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Abby," he said. He didn't know what else to say.
Abby pushed him away. "Get off of me!" she screamed. "You can't make everything better!" She ran into her room and slammed the door.
Carter and Susan exchanged a sad glance as Abby's mournful sobs echoed out of the bedroom.

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"Abby?"
Carter nudged open the door to the bedroom with his foot. "Abby? Are you in here?"
It was a stupid question. Abby had to be in here; he had been in the living room, and there was no other way for her to get out. But yet, the room was silent as a tomb. He saw no sign of Abby.
"Abby?"
He opened the door to the bathroom, but still, he didn't see her. He was beginning to get worried; where was she?
He walked back out of the bathroom, then he saw her, huddled behind the open bedroom door. He approached her cautiously. "Abby? You wanna talk?" He reached a hand towards her.
"Don't come near me, Carter," Abby hissed. Her face was red and puffy from all the crying, and her words came out somewhat slurred. Carter stomach lurched. He wished Eric and Maggie could see what they had done to her.
"I know you feel terrible-"
"You don't know anything. You don't know how I feel. You don't have any idea how I feel, so don't con yourself into thinking that you do." Her voice was thick with grief. Carter wished he could take her in his arms and make all her pain go away, but she had made it clear that she didn't even want him in the same room as her.
"I think you should leave," she said darkly.
He knew this was coming. He knew she would try to get him to abandon her too, so that then she would be all alone. Once everyone she loved had deserted her, what would she do? Carter couldn't make himself think about that. He had already decided that he wouldn't abandon her, and nothing she said would change his mind.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly. He knew she didn't want him to leave, didn't need him to.
"I said go!" When he didn't respond, she added, "I don't want you here. Get out."

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Abby ran into her room and slammed the door. She couldn't believe this. Eric and Maggie were both dead, and it was all because of her. She had never thought it was possible to feel this much pain. She felt like she was suffocating, like she had to do something before she exploded.
So she cried. She cried inconsolably, longer and harder than she ever had before. She knew she was acting like a maniac; she knew Carter and Susan could probably hear her, but she didn't care. It didn't matter anymore; nothing did.
She didn't see how things could ever be better, how she would ever be happy again. She was responsible for her mother and brother's deaths. How could she live with that?
It was crushing her, overwhelming her. The guilt, the pain. "I want them back," she moaned. "What can I do to get them back?"
But there was nothing she could do. They were gone forever, and she would never see them, or talk to them, or touch them again. Abby felt fresh tears come to her face, and she crawled behind the door and huddled up.
When she was done crying, she lay on the floor, curled in a ball. What was she supposed to do now? How could she make the pain go away?
She craved alcohol, or anything else that would dull her senses and make her forget, just for one night, how miserable her life was. But even if she drank, she would still have to wake up the next morning. She couldn't stay drunk for the rest of her life. What could she do that would last longer than alcohol?
The door creaked open, and Carter walked in. She watched as he crept towards the bathroom, softly calling her name. She wanted to throw herself in her arms and let him make everything better. But he couldn't; no one could. Maggie and Eric were dead forever, and crying on Carter's shoulder wouldn't fix anything.
She could remember a time when she had trusted him more than anything. That was before he left her, abandoned her just like everyone else. Now, he was trying to pretend he was still the same caring person, but Abby had seen his true colors. He had let her down in her time of need, and she would never trust him again. Now she just wanted him to get out of her apartment.
"Abby? You wanna talk?"
She was repulsed by his hand extended towards her, his lying, deceitful hand. How could he pretend to still care about her when he had abandoned her? She wanted to bite his hand off, but instead she settled for saying, "Don't come near me, Carter," in as hostile a voice as she could manage.
Still, Carter came near her. What, was he deaf, or just stupid? She could feel her anger building, and when he said, "I know you feel terrible- " she couldn't contain herself.
"You don't know anything. You don't know how I feel. You don't have any idea how I feel, so don't con yourself into thinking that you do." She was furious with him. He left her last time she had needed him, and now he was trying to pretend that it had never happened. She just wanted him out of her life, with his phony compassion.
"I think you should leave," she told him. She just wanted him to get out, and leave her alone.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said arrogantly.
She couldn't believe his nerve! Who did he think he was, telling her that he wasn't going to leave HER apartment!
"I said go!" she snapped at him. He just stood there cockily, with the "concerned boyfriend" look plastered on his face. She wanted to push him out the window, see if he looked so cocky then. "I don't want you here. Get out."
He kneeled down next to her. "I'm not gonna leave you, Abby," he said.
She snapped. "Who do you think you are?" she screamed at him. "GET OUT! This is MY apartment!" She pushed him away from her and stormed out of the room.
She flopped down on the couch and was furious to see that Carter had sat down next to her. What was he, her stalker? Ignoring him, she pulled on her shoes.
"Where ya going?" Carter asked, trying to sound casual. Abby ignored him. Why wouldn't she talk to him? She looked mad, and he didn't know why.
"None of your business," she replied, not even pretending to be polite. She headed towards the door.
"I'll come with you," he said, hopping up from the couch. He wasn't sure what was going through her mind right now, but he didn't think she needed to be alone.
Abby stopped abruptly and turned to face him. "No, you will not. What you WILL do is get out of my apartment, and then go home and leave me alone. I don't need you harassing me." With that said, she stormed out of the door.
Carter wondered what he should do. Was she okay? She was acting so strangely, he wondered if she would be alright. He made up his mind to follow her. He had to make sure she was okay.