TORTURED SOUL | abby littman

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻.

     
    
    
    
    

chapter forty seven

{ extremely unedited }
( i mean seriously i'm not gonna try proofreading it since it's 16.6k words and grammarly crashed halfway through so best of luck hope there isn't too many errors )

    
   
    
   
    

[ trigger warnings ; mentions of parental abuse, eating disorders, self-harm, suicidal intentions, panic attacks and substance abuse ]

SHE WAS SLEEPING WHEN SHE GOT THE CALL. For the first time in a long time, Abby decided to treat herself to an early night, sleeping as early as seven after a long day, much to the hatred of her mother who had no shame in verbally expressing her disappointment for her lazy daughter, only to be woken up by her phone ringing nonstop, overpowering her music. Annoyed, Abby was ready to yell at whoever was on the other end, not bothering to check the caller ID, but the voice hitting her ear knocked her still.

Abby would never forget that call for as long as she lived.

"Abby Littman? I'm Nurse Ahmed, I work at Wellsbury Hospital. Rowan Rivera is in critical condition and you are listed as her emergency contact. How soon can you get here?"

Still with only her provisional licence and a few more driving lessons to go, Abby stole the keys to her mother's car and raced all laws on the way to the hospital, frantic and fearful as the hospital doors shut behind her, pushing away the mindless adults as she skids to a stop in front of the main desk.

"Rowan Rivera," she panted, gripping onto the desk as if her life depended on it, body shaking. In a way, her life did depend on it as her life was now moulded around Rowan. Rowan was the reason she tried, the reason she was still alive, and if something had happened to her, something unfixable, Abby knew her own life would slip through her fingers.

"Rowan," Abby repeated when the lady only stared at her. Abby didn't blame her―she would also be concerned if a girl who looked like she was hopped up on cocaine ran in demanding a name. "Critical condition? Came in tonight? Jesus fuck, where is she!? Stop gaping and do your fucking job!"

The lady's face twisted into one of annoyance, clicking the keys obnoxiously loudly, so clearly taking her time but Abby made an effort to keep her mouth shut, even though that meant quite literally biting her tongue so nothing slipped out.

"She's in surgery," the lady drawled, not looking away from her computer screen. "You can find her brother in the ER. Just follow the signs to it." Scowling, Abby walked away from the desk, picking up the pace with every sign that she saw. She could've worked on her fucking attitude, it's reasonable to be acting the way Abby was when her best friend, the girl she's falling in love with, is in hospital for god knows what.

Well, Abby had a feeling she could guess what caused this.

She came to a still once reaching the ER, frantic eyes searching the surprisingly busy area for the little boy she considered her little brother by now, chest heaving with every breath she took. She knew Rowan was in surgery but she wasn't told anything about Cameron. Abby would kill their father herself if he laid a hand on Cameron.

Cameron.

Abby walked further into the ER, careful to not bump into anything.

Cameron.

Abby couldn't focus on a single face, too overwhelmed with fear, adrenaline fading away.

Cameron.