My Abigail: A Psychological Thriller

Chapter 9: Twine

I sat there as she finished his story. Her story. Their story. Whatever it was called. I was shaking and unable to wrap my mind around what she had just said. So many words. So long a story. And yet it was impossible to capture with a words what had happened, what was happening. What was.

"So... they're the same person." I shook my head.

"They're the same person, but they're different people. It's hard to understand. Impossible. But it's true."

I kept shaking my head, trying to hold my clammy hands together. They were freezing. It felt like ice cubes had been dropped into my stomach and ground against my insides. The blood in my veins had been replaced with freezing water. It was a struggle to even breathe.

"They're all Damian."

"In a way," she said.

"I loved Abigail. But she's not real. She's not even... she doesn't even know. She doesn't know that she's fake. But she is. I fell in a love with a person who was never there. I fell in a love with a boy."

"No, no. It's not like that at all, Caleb. You couldn't have known. And you can't help or fix it or anything. Just don't think that and blame yourself."

I looked up at her incredulously. "Why would I blame myself?"

She shrugged. "People just do that type of thing a lot."

"I don't know what to do," I said. "I loved her."

"Do you think that has to change?"

"There is no future for us!" I slapped the table, drawing curious and disdainful expressions from all the other customers. "There is no future! Why would I do that to her and to myself? She won't understand. But I do. I can't do that."

She sighed sadly. "Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. I've never been in your situation. All I know is that you can't change them, and you can't fix them. I don't know Abigail. But I know Xavier. He's never had a friend before. He really appreciates you."

"There is no Abigail and no Xavier! They're the same. They're all just Damian. They're all freaks!"

"Did you just call my son a freak?" Her voice was full of ice.

"How is he your son when half the time he's not even there?" I ignored her furious glance. "He doesn't even live in your house!"

She stared at me. There was a mixture of pity and hatred in her eyes. "You think it's not hard? When I know that some days he won't come home. He goes out. I don't know if he will ever come back. Who knows what Damian gets into! He could kill himself. And my son with him."

I sat blankly. There was nothing to say.

"You think it doesn't rip open my heart when he comes back with a black eye and a busted lip and doesn't know where he gets them? Right now, you're struggling to love Abigail because of what she isn't and what she is. But with Xavier, it's a struggle to love himself. I watch him grow up and think he's going crazy because he goes to sleep fine, and when he wakes up there's blood on his pillow and in his hair. I have seen a boy lose his mind slowly. I see him struggle to care about himself. Xavier. Doesn't. Love. Himself. He hates what he is, and he doesn't even know!"

Tears began to flow down her cheeks.

"I've been to his doctor. I've gotten my own. I've researched it. I've looked into what professors and experts think. There is no easy solution! Maybe there's none at all. But damn it all, I'm not giving up on him."

She stared me directly in the eyes. "I'm not giving up on my son. If you want to give up, that's your decision. But I'm never going to make that choice. Because no matter how much it hurts me, giving up would hurt him worse than it would me. Maybe there's no tomorrow. But I'm sure as hell gonna give him the best today I can."