Help Me (sequel to Save Me)

Chapter 162

I know I've said this a few times, but Ima say it again bcos it's important to me. Please do not feel obliged to read this if it's upsetting or triggering to you. I understand that it's a triggering book and I know there are some topics in it that are really serious. I'm not glamorizing anything in this. I repeat! I am not glamorizing anything! Abuse is awful and I want this book to portray how bad it is. My intention is not to hurt anyone. If I have upset you, please let me know. I'm here for you.

That being said...

Trigger warning.

Abigail's house feels as safe as ever. Sometimes Remington finds it almost strange how safe he feels here. Like he could admit to murder and she wouldn't make a fuss about it. She doesn't make a fuss about anything. She's so calm. Andy's the same in that way. Remington can shout and scream at them and they stay calm. They're the only two people who have never snapped and shouted back. He loves them for that.

She's got a new water jug, Remington notices, crossing his legs on the couch. "I had a nightmare," he says, "about Holly. It was bad."

The woman pours him a glass of water. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Remington nods. "She kept telling me I was dead and I died alone and then she slit my throat. The stab wound was bleeding, too. It was so weird."

"How do you feel about it now?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm confused. Why am I still thinking about her after all these years?"

Abigail takes his notebook. It's a new one. He is in the habit of writing what he eats and sometimes, depending on the day, how he's feeling. "It's okay to be thinking about her."

The boy picks up the glass. "Sometimes it feels like I've made no progress at all." He sips the cool water and sighs. "It's just-it's scary that after literally years she's still in my head. I wish she would just go away and stay away." His eyes are heavy. He was awake most of last night after the nightmare, curled into Andy with a movie on quietly, trying and failing to turn off his over-active brain.

"You've made remarkable progress, Remington. I notice it everytime I talk to you."

"You do?"

The therapist nods, smiles. "Yeah. The first few sessions we had together, you hardly spoke. You could barely talk about Holly. You were having panic attacks regularly. When was the last time you had a panic attack?"

Remington shrugs. "On tour. At least three weeks ago."

"See. A year ago if I'd asked that, you'd be saying it was yesterday, or even this morning."

"Yeah, but..." He sighs. It's a habit of his to always try and find something bad to blame himself for. He isn't sure if that's something he does because of Holly, or if it's just how his stupid brain works.

"You spend a lot of time focussing on the negative things, Remington. Is it like that a lot?"

The boy knows she's right. She's always right. "How could it not be like that?" He asks, "I don't see much at all to be positive about when I'm a fuck up." For some reason it hurts to say it out loud. I'm a fuck up. God, it's such a sad sentence.

Abigail shakes her head. "You're not a fuck up. You've been fucked with. That's totally different. You do not need to feel ashamed of what she did to you. She should feel ashamed. She should be so ashamed. But you; no. You have been through the worst part of hell at such a young age and you're still living your life and making your music and you are so unbelievably...strong doesn't even cut it. You are powerful, Remington."

She notices Remington tearing up and realises he's probably got himself trapped in one of his depressive, downgrading mindsets.

"You experienced something horrific and instead of cutting yourself off from the world, you chose to love, and to be loved, and you are living a beautiful life. You're not a fuck up. It saddens me that you believe you are. I sincerely hope that you start really seeing what we all see, because when we look at you, we are looking at a young, talented as fuck, intelligent, admirable, incredible person, and you deserve to see that, too."

Remington would feel silly for crying if it was infront of someone else, but it's just Abigail and he doesn't have the will power to stop himself anyway. "I don't know what's wrong with me." He wipes his eyes with his hands which are inside the sleeves of Andy's hoodie. "I've been crying so easily recently and I hate it. It's like-I'm a grown fucking man. Why am I crying?" Talking about it just makes him feel worse about and he muffles a soft sob with his hand. "I'm just so...overwhelmed. Tour was so draining and I keep getting attacked by this stalker and no one believes that he's Holly's brother and I know he is. And me and Em are hardly talking and it's my fault for being so sensetive, and I'm scared of talking to him because I'm not prepared for another argument, but I just-I want things to go back to how they were before. And Andy has my wallet because I kept buying diet pills so now I can't buy any and I just-I hate my body so much, like it physically hurts how much I hate it and no one understands.

"And people keep posting photos of me on Instagram from when I collapsed that time on tour and it's so fucking hard to see them because I was so thin then and I want that so bad and I know it's unhealthy but it hurts so fucking much that the pictures they post the most are those ones. Now there's an account who keeps sending me creepy messages, like calling me daddy and shit, and I can't-I don't know how to deal with it all, Abi, I just don't! Everything is so hard and I'm so scared that the stalker is gonna break in one night or hurt Andy or my brothers and the nightmare just-it's just-it's too much for me to handle now. I need fucking cut myself 'cause that's the only thing that I can think of doing at this point." He has his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, not sure why he's suddenly so emotional. He hadn't realised he'd been struggling so much until he said it out loud. "God, I'm sorry. I'm such a fucking mess."

"It's okay," Abigail assures him. "It's good to get this stuff out."

"Can I have a hug?" The singer asks, knowing that hugging her helps. It's different to hugging Andy. That makes him feel safe and protected and loved. Hugging Abigail makes him feel like he's gonna be okay. He needs that today.

Of course, Abigail says he can. She knows he needs it and she lets him just take comfort in the hug, making sure he can step away quickly if he needs to.

"Something good did happen on tour," Remington says.

"What's that?"

"You know My Chemical Romance?"

Abigail hums.

"The singer, Gerard Way, came to one of our shows. He gave me his number and he's gonna sing in a song I wrote." He steps back from the hug after a minute or so.

"That's great! How're you feeling now?"

Remington wipes his eyes and sits back down. "Tired. It's kind of a relief to get all of that out, you know? I thought I could just handle it on my own but I can't. Sorry for crying."

The therapist sits back down, too, and smiles. "You never need to keep things inside, Remington. It's always better to say when something's bothering you. Andy don't apologise for crying. It doesn't make you weak, or pathetic, or anything. It's important to cry when you need to."

"Just-sometimes it's hard to say things. Like, I wanna menttion that something's wrong, but I just don't know how. And then it gets too much and I end up breaking, and this happens." He gestures to his face, all pale and red-eyed.

"I get it. It's okay. You don't always have say it to someone face to face, you know? If you wanna talk to Andy about something but you don't know how to start, try texting him. It's easier to say something over a text. Let him him come to you and start the conversation. It'll take the pressure off."

Remington smiles. "That's such a good fucking idea," he says, "you're a genius."