The Lives We Lead | tmr/tw • tw/tmr |

(18) "No, My Dear. Only You."

(WARNING: the following chapter includes mature content and material regarding self-harm and suicide related thoughts. While it isn't a direct reference, this chapter is heavy and there are some martyr-like justifications for self-harm. No, I am not glorifying self-harm, and if you struggle with such things and want to talk to someone about it, I beg you to talk to a friend or google "Self Harm Helpline Numbers." My private messages are always open if you need help getting in contact with the right people. Stay safe and I love you all!)

Though she had much more pressing matters on her mind, Abbie couldn't help stopping and thinking about how funny Isaac looked in her father's Dentists of the East Coast t-shirt. Pairing that with the baggy jeans that were just an inch too short, he looked like a poor homeless boy who went into the thrift store with only a buck fifty.

"I went and looked through all the old documents from when I was put in child services and my adoption," she explained, trying to sound as casual as possible. While she had shared plenty with him regarding earth 816, Abbie was never too fond of talking about her tween years.

Surviving the month and a half her mother was sick was hard enough--the months in foster care following that were torture. Yes, she beyond grateful that she was placed with a family that cared, the Miltons, but they were often preoccupied. Mary and Robert Milton had two children of their own, as well as two other foster kids--one of which had a tendency to sneak out every other night. Abbie was quiet and acquiescent in her mourning, reserving her tears and grief for when Sally Samson, who slept in the bunk above her, was snoring and Mary and Robert were driving around town looking for troubled Tony Fischer.

During the week, she sat in a small 7th grade class, trying desperately to pay attention and not think about how she would sit alone again at lunch, because popular, loud-mouth Susan Trevor convinced the majority of the student body that Abbie was in foster care because she killed her family's cat and her parents were too scared to keep her. Oh, how Abbie cried in relief when she heard she had been adopted by a couple states over.

"Did you find anything?" Isaac asked, wincing as he rolled his injured shoulder. Hopefully that would heal in a couple hours...

"I found an address for an Anika Freemen in Oregon," she bitterly laughed. "Apparently she's my biological mom's sister. And my aunt."

"You never knew about her?"

"Nope. They didn't have a good relationship. My mom never told me about her and this document here says that she was contacted when my mom first died. She would have gotten custody of me but she didn't want anything to do with me."

"I'm so sorry, Abs."

"Don't be," she wiped a stubborn tear away before it could roll down her cheek. "Why would I want anything to do with someone who doesn't even want their niece?"

Isaac watched as her lip trembled as she looked away, determined to be angry instead of hurt. Knowing it was futile, Isaac sighed and closed the distance between them, enveloping her in a tight hug. She stood there for a moment, resisting the urge to break down before giving in.

With a broken sob, she pressed her forehead into his chest and clutched onto that ugly dentist t-shirt. They just stood there as she cried. Isaac felt tears burning at the back of his eyes, angry at the sight of his closest friend hurt.

"I-I just," Abbie hiccuped. "I was alone, and I was scared, and I didn't know what to do for so long and she could have been there! She could have been my family like she was supposed to but she didn't."

"I know," Isaac mumbled, tightening his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head. "God, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that. You never deserved that."