Even Angels Fall (50 page)

Painfully vivid images flash through Abbey's mind in quick succession. Lucy's lifeless body, Ryan, Alex, her mum, her brother's battered and swollen face, Nathan at the hospital… one vision after another in a persistent, dream like assault. It is all too much and as the intoxicating effects of the cocaine and ecstasy spread through her body, she begins to lose her grip on reality, spiralling even further down into the deep black hole of depression. She wants this pain to be over. She doesn't want to feel, or think, or be anymore. She isn't strong enough to cope with this.

Completely removed from reality and unable to rationalize anything; all Abbey can focus on is the peace of mind that she so desperately longs for. All she wants is to see Ryan and Lucy again, and as she struggles to distinguish between what is real and what is a product of her imagination, she suddenly finds herself staggering outside onto the balcony.

Very hesitantly, she places her hands on top of the steel barrier, feeling the smooth, cold metal beneath her fingertips before slowly tightening her grip and pulling herself upwards. She carefully throws hers legs over the side before leaning forward and gently tilting her head back, breathing in the cold night air as she marvels at the stars and the sense of freedom they bring her. Utterly immersed in her drug induced haze and the welcome feeling of weightlessness, she doesn't hear the balcony door slide open or notice a shocked and terrified Alex appear behind her, with his eyes wide and his arms outstretched in horror.

“A
bbey…” Alex whispers, breathlessly, “What the hell are you doing…?”

It takes a brief moment for Abbey’s mind to pull into focus as she turns her head towards the distant and echoing sound of Alex’s voice. Her vision is blurred and her heart is beating fast, despite the strange sense of calm that has clouded over her.

“Is this real…?” She whispers back, while looking down at the road nine floors beneath her.

“What?”

“Is this real…?” She asks again - and Alex edges cautiously towards her with his hands outstretched in an appeasing fashion, as if he is approaching a startled animal he doesn’t want to frighten.

“You know this is real Abbey. I need you to give me your hand and climb back over the railing…”

“I don’t… I don’t understand…” She shakes her head and sways slightly from the dizzying sensation, causing Alex to hold his breath and lean forward apprehensively. The balcony is wet from the earlier rain and Abbey is drunk and totally out of it. She could fall to her death at any moment.

“If you slip, you’ll fall… and we’re a long way up babe. I need you to give me your hand so I can pull you back over…”

“It’s a lie you know…” Abbey murmurs so quietly it is barely a whisper and Alex almost doesn’t catch what she is saying.

“I’m not lying to you…” He answers impatiently, trying to remain calm while desperately urging her to grab hold of his hand.

“No, not you… I mean this, all of this. It’s a lie…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Alex stresses, helplessly. He is trying hard not to make any sudden movements that might alarm her, while speaking slowly in a low, reassuring voice, as if trying to reason with a child.

“This… all of this…” She continues, dazed and distracted, “You take a hit and it makes you feel free. It makes you feel like you can do anything. You feel like everything is fine, better than fine… but it’s a trick. You don’t know what’s real or what isn’t… the good or the bad… it lies to you, this feeling… It’s a lie…”

“Abbey… you’re tripping.
Please
come back inside…” Alex begs, knowing full well that she is too far gone to be reasoned with.

“Is this real…?” She asks quietly once more, while gazing dreamily at the ground, “If I let go now… would I fly…?” Abbey flexes her fingers in the tiniest, most subtle way imaginable but it is all Alex needs to jolt him into action. He leaps forward and wraps both arms tightly around Abbey’s waist, hauling her over the railing and dragging her aggressively back into the living room. He finally let’s go as he throws her down onto one of the sofa’s and the impact shocks her out of her drug induced haze. She gasps as the reality of what she has just done comes sharply into focus, but before she can scream, panic, or cry, Alex grabs her shoulders and spins her round to face him, standing above her while shaking her wildly.

“What the fuck are you doing Abbey, for Christ sake?” He shouts, terrifyingly loud, “Do you really think that’s the answer? Do you really think that’s the way out? You of all people, after what you went through with your brother… you’d seriously put your family through that again… you’d seriously do that to me? I’ve lost Lucy and I’ve lost Tom and everyone’s hanging on by a fucking thread… I’m only just hanging in there and you go and do something so fucking stupid, Abbey? Why? I can’t lose you, do you understand me…. I can’t fucking lose you too…” Alex’s anger begins to subside towards the end of his furious rant and he drops to his knees in front of the sofa, crying with frustration, anger and grief. He pulls Abbey down onto the floor next to him and wraps his arms around her neck, holding her close and gripping her in an unbreakable embrace. She holds him back tightly as she sobs into his chest and they sit there together for the longest time, crying for Lucy and for Tom, for the hopelessness they feel, and for the life they dreamt of living together, which they know they can never have.

It is the final straw for Abbey. Sinking to a new low and letting the pain overcome her so much that she ends up in the same frame of mind - the same hollow, empty space - as Ryan did years before. Alex was right to say what he said. After everything she and her family went through and she almost follows the exact same path. It is the wakeup call she needed. For so long she has been torn in two, between her real family and her life with her friends, and despite how much she loves them, how much she loves Alex, she has never truly been able to let go of her family. She never wanted to choose between them but now she feels as though the choice has been made for her due to the escalating circumstances and the dangerous situation she has found herself in. It isn’t easy; in fact it is almost impossible for Abbey to consider life away from all she has known for the past year. The friends she has grown to love; good people, just a little messed up, like her. And Alex, who is still by far the most important thing in her world.

Her heart sinks in her chest as she accepts what she has to do. It is far too complicated now and things have gone way beyond her control. What happened on the balcony is testament to that. Even though she loves Alex and always will, she knows she has to get out.

Spending the next few days agonising over her decision doesn’t help, but she can’t deny that it feels more and more like the right thing to do. Whether or not she tells Alex though, is something she can’t decide on - and the uncertainty is killing her. He saved her life, helped her in more ways than he will ever know, and now he’s the one that is struggling and she is planning on running away. He deserves more than that, he deserves better. But it is becoming clearer by the day that Abbey isn’t the one that can give him what he needs. Not when her staying means she could lose herself completely and end up sharing the same fate as Ryan and Lucy. It is too big a risk.

If she tells Alex he will beg her to stay, he will plead with her, and because of her feelings for him, because of how much she loves him, she knows all too well that she will give in. She won’t be able to remain steadfast and determined because whenever she sees Alex hurting, she goes to him without question. She won’t be able to stand causing him pain, seeing that look of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, so perhaps it is best that she slips out quietly, saving them both the pain of a heart-breaking goodbye? It is selfish. Abbey knows it. She is taking the easier option, the coward’s way out… but it is the only way she can stomach the thought of walking away from him. Her Alex. Her beautiful, messed up, complicated boy. If only things were different, but there is no hope in wishing - and as she unwillingly acknowledges the fact that she may never see him again, her devastated tears keep falling.

Once Abbey’s plan is in place, all she can do is wait. It feels like the ultimate betrayal and she just wants it to be over. Her bag is packed in the bottom of the wardrobe and a handwritten note explaining her actions is stowed away in the back pocket of her jeans. ‘A note… after everything we’ve been through together… it all ends with a pathetic note…’ she scolds herself. It is pitiful, she is pitiful, but as her stomach turns with disgust at her own actions, she reminds herself that it is the only way. It’s what she has to do and she knows she can’t back out now.

Due to Alex’s insomnia, sneaking out in the middle of the night is easier said than done. But at 3:00am on a Thursday morning, he finally falls into a deep, heavy sleep and Abbey’s window of opportunity opens. She lies on her side for the longest time, staring at him longingly. He looks peaceful and rested… and so much younger. He is so incredibly lost and she prays to god above anything else that he eventually gets through this and finds his way.

She takes in every inch of his perfect face, committing it to memory while fighting the urge to reach out and touch him, knowing how easily he can wake. She doesn’t want to go. A huge part of her wants to stay in this moment forever and she has to physically force herself to get up, to climb out of bed and throw on her jeans and hooded top. Moving as slowly and as quietly as she can, she pulls out her bag and slides the wardrobe door shut before creeping back over to the bedside table and laying the note face up. She looks down at Alex again, lifting her hand to her face while holding in a gut wrenching sob, wishing that she could kiss him one last time. As the unbearable ache in her heart almost consumes her, she musters all the strength she possibly can and quickly turns on her heel, striding out of the bedroom, down the hall, out of the kitchen and into the waiting lift.

As she presses the button for the ground floor, she completely breaks down, dropping her bag at her feet and leaning forward, resting on the mirrored wall as she wails inconsolably. It is over. It is done. She has really left him. As the doors slide open a few moments later, she races through the lobby and outside into the early morning stillness, reaching for her mobile and calling a taxi, which arrives in less than five minutes.

“Are you alright love…?” The driver asks as Abbey bundles herself clumsily into the back seat.

“I’m fine…” She mutters, unconvincingly.

“Where to…?”

“Meanwood please…” She sighs, rubbing her hands across her tired face, “I’m going home…”

With hardly any traffic on the roads, the taxi pulls up outside Abbey’s house quicker than she would like. She thought she would have time to calm down, to figure out what she is going to say and do when she sees her family for the first time in months. But her time is up. She pays the driver and climbs reluctantly out of the car, standing aimlessly at the bottom of the driveway as she stares up at the house. It seems smaller somehow and unnervingly alien… not how home should feel at all. Unsure of what to do, she approaches the door with caution, grasping her key in her hand. It doesn’t feel right, as though it is rude and totally out of line to just let herself in after all this time. So instead, she takes a deep, calming breath and knocks once, loudly.

After a few seconds the landing light turns on and she sees a figure approaching the door. Is this a mistake? What if she has burnt her bridges and they don’t want her back? Why the hell would they? Abbey’s instincts are telling her to turn and run but she can’t. He nerves are paralysing and she is frozen, rooted to the spot as the latch slides back and the key turns in the lock.

Peter opens the door and stares impassively for what feels like the longest time, frowning drowsily as he stands there in nothing but his grey joggers with his mouth hanging open as if he can hardly believe what he is seeing. Abbey can’t find her voice but she doesn’t need to. Peter lurches forward without a word and grabs her by the arm, pulling her forcefully into the house and into an all-consuming embrace. He grips her so tightly she can hardly breathe, but she returns his hug, just as fiercely.

A few seconds pass - and as Abbey wonders with apprehension whether her mum has slept through the commotion - she hears a short, quiet gasp, followed by footsteps racing down the stairs. Without looking up she feels Janet throw her arms forcefully around them both, encasing her in love and comforting her, as she is overcome with an enormous sense of relief.

Dr. Morris turns the last page of the bound, A4 document she is reading and removes her glasses with a satisfied smile. Abbey sits across from her in the large, comfortable leather arm chair just as she has done twice a week for the last three months. The office is small, warm and cluttered… and in the short time that Abbey has been at Trinity and All Saints rehab centre, it has become reassuringly familiar. It is a far cry from how she first felt when she walked through those doors, completely devoid of hope with no idea what the future might hold. She can appreciate now, sitting here at the end of her treatment, just how far she has come - and it is all thanks to this woman. Although part of her is glad that her time here is over, the idea of leaving these safe and comforting surroundings is more than a little terrifying.