44. INTO THE DARK. #2
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m sorry,” I croaked.
“Say you’ll keep fighting,” she demanded, hugging me back just as tightly.
“I’ll keep fighting,” I murmured, my eyes trained on the front door where the cops exited. Their eyes were trained on me and I knew I was in for some dreadful consequences. I quickly pulled out the Polaroid and pushed it into the pocket of Abigail’s hoodie. “Hold on to that for me.”
She held the photo close to her, nodding as the cops stepped around her—one of them reading me my rights.
“I’ll find you,” I promised as my hands were bound behind my back.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” A bald officer asked.
“I’ll never drink vodka again?” I joked, and it earned me a shove.
“You’re a pathetic one, aren’t ya?” his buddy taunted me with a laugh and shoved me again.
“Hey!” Abigail yelled, and I tensed. “Don’t you hurt him!”
The bald one sighed. “Go on inside, this ain’t none of your business.”
“It is my business, you prick. He’s my brother!” Before she could make it two steps, our foster mother grabbed her arm and hauled her back. When she cried out in pain, I pushed through the officers.
“Get your hands off her!” I yelled and it earned me an elbow to the cheek. “Fuck!”
“You resisting, boy?” the officer sneered.
I spat blood onto the sidewalk and turned a menacing look at the officer who duped me. “Fuck you, pig.”
He fiddled with something in his pocket and then pretended to pull it from mine before waving a small baggie with a white substance inside of it. “What do we have here?” He laughed. “One more word from you and I’ll ruin you.”
Fury ricocheted through me at the nerve of this guy. That fury could only turn to humor for some strange reason, and I laughed in his face like he just told the best fucking joke. Through my fit of laughter, I said, “Eat shit, fuck face.”
The last thing I saw was a fist aimed at my face and then there was nothing.
I WAS CHARGED WITH home invasion. For what home?
I didn’t know, but I figured I’d accept that charge over arson.
Someone somewhere was getting off the hook big time.
Not only that but the moment I got back to the house and saw that Abigail was officially gone, I knew I needed to talk to someone.
The only other person I had was Dr. Garrison.
It wasn’t five minutes into our session when he decided to make my day ten times worse.
“You have borderline personality disorder, Julian.”
“The fuck if I do,” I shot back.
He ignored me. “It’s commonly known as quiet BPD, however, you can still experience splitting on the outside, which is what I believe you’ve just experienced.” His hands clasp together over a binder. “It explains why it’s taken anyone so long to notice.”
I sucked my teeth, scratching my jaw. “You’re just making stuff up now.” I sniffed. “I’m starting to think dirtying up my record is a game. Did you place bets with anyone? How much did you win for finally diagnosing me and proving I’m as fucked in the head as everyone thinks?”
“Take a breath. I understand it’s a lot to process.”
I gritted my teeth at his annoying monotone voice. “It’s not because I don’t have whatever you just said.”
“BPD,” he repeated. “Think back to those moments you’ve craved isolation when you experience intense feelings, or when you withdraw from people who produce strong emotions inside of you. You may feel like you have no real connections and they’re all temporary.”
My heart galloped in my chest. “That’s enough.”
He didn’t stop. “And no matter what conclusion you fall to, the blame is always put on you. Am I right or am I wrong?”
“You don’t know my mind.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, surprising me slightly. “I don’t know your mind at all. In fact, I want to make a deal with you. . .I haven’t put the diagnosis on your record and I’m not going to unless you’re comfortable with that.”
“Why?”
“Because believe it or not, Julian, I have always had your best interests at heart.” He sighed at my resignation. “I’m not your enemy. Trust me this is good news. Now I know how to help you.”
“What’s the deal?” I asked.
“You let me help you my way and I’ll talk with Theresa to get you your own room.”
I thought about it for a moment, knowing what it meant to have something like that on your record. I didn’t want to believe what he was saying, but Abigail’s face appeared in my mind.
“I can’t promise I won’t continue to disagree with you,” I warned him.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said with a small smile.
“We’ll start more testing in our next session and keep things under wraps.
No one has to know if it’s not something you’re comfortable sharing.
Just because you think differently, doesn’t mean your life has to be different from anyone else. ”
“I don’t know, doc. I’m a magnet for bad things.”
“How about this then; just focus on the now. Keep pushing, keep fighting, keep living just in case something good happens.”