Beautiful Mess

bullying.

Prologue

Abby

Beep. Beep. Beep. The monotonous beeping penetrated my skull like a damn drill. What was that? And why did my brain feel so cloudy? Did I drink too much? I couldn't remember. Fuck! If the fucking beeping didn't stop soon, my skull would explode. I had a curse on my lips, but no sound came out. My mouth felt like the Sahara. My throat was rough like sandpaper. Damn, that was the worst hangover I’d ever had. I would never touch a drop of alcohol again.

Abigail? – Can you hear me, honey?

Huh? Who was that? And why did she call me Abigail? No one called me by my full name. Not even the teachers. I tried to open my eyes, but someone must have glued my damn eyelids shut with super glue. The damn things just wouldn't move. I moaned as the effort caused an explosion of pain in my poor skull.

Abigail, the voice said again. I know you are awake. I'm going to open your eyes now, so don't be scared, okay? It's all right, honey. I'm gonna touch you now. It's all right.

I felt a touch on my cheek and flinched despite the warning. A finger lay on my right eyelid and pushed it up. A bright light shone into my eye. Behind the light, I saw the blurred face of a woman with dark hair. She seemed to be holding a small flashlight in her hand, which she let shine directly into my eye. What the hell? The finger from my eyelid disappeared and my eye closed again before the dark-haired woman repeated the same procedure on my other eye.

I was relieved when the damn procedure was finally over. The light had felt as if someone had stuck a damn needle in my eye. I tried again to open my eyes and this time it worked. My vision was still a little blurry, but I realized that the woman above me wore a doctor's coat and that I was lying in a hospital room. I tried to remember what happened. Why I was lying here in the hospital.

Whaa...? I croaked, but it turned out to be too difficult to speak.

Shhh. Try not to speak, said the doctor. I'll give you something to drink. Afterwards your throat will feel better. Okay?

I nodded weakly. The doctor disappeared from my field of vision and came back with a cup a little later. A straw stuck in the cup and she brought it to my lips. I noticed that there was at least one other person in the room, but he or she stood at the edge of my field of vision. Another doctor? A nurse? Or a visitor? I sucked on the straw and cool water filled my mouth and ran down my throat. It felt so good.

That's enough for now, said the doctor, took the cup away and handed it to the second person who had now come closer. It was a nurse. The nurse put the cup on a bedside table and then fiddled with my bed until the headboard slowly lifted. She stopped when I was sitting halfway up.

Better, sweetheart? she asked, and I nodded.

My gaze went back to the doctor.

I am Dr. Walder. Your attending doctor, she said, smiling at me in a friendly manner. Do you know why you are here?

I shook my head.

It is normal if you are still a little confused. This will slowly subside. You were brought in with slit wrists. You lost a lot of blood, Abigail. During your treatment we have found that it was not the first time. And we also noticed the other cuts. Your aunt has given us a short summary of your circumstances, and I think that you should go to a professional institution for a while where you can get help.

My heart raced. I had tried to kill myself. Yes, the doctor was right. It wasn't the first time. The memory of what had caused me to slit my wrists for the second time slowly came back. Dr. Walder took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Her words floated around in my head. What did she mean by professional institution? Was she going to put me in a nuthouse? – No way! I looked at her insistently and shook my head wildly.

After an attempted suicide, psychological care is mandatory. Normally this would mean that you would have several sessions with one of our in-house psychologists. But in your case, I think more is needed than just a few sessions. She looked at me with gentle brown eyes. You need help, honey.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I shook my head. I didn't want to talk to anyone about these things. I didn't want to go to a fucking nuthouse where they would probably pump me full of drugs. Who knew if they would ever let me go again? I knew a few people who would be only too happy to see me gone. Bethany, the fucking bitch. Even my aunt would probably be happy to be rid of me. And then there was... My heart seized up. Kent. His betrayal hurt the most. I should never have trusted him. Not after everything he had already done to me. How could I have been so stupid? So fucking naïve? I closed my eyes when the pain hit me. My entire body trembled as I sobbed violently. I heard the voices of Dr. Walder and the nurse in the background, but the meaning of their words did not reach me. I felt a sting in my arm and a slight burning sensation, but even that did not really sink in. The pain that had led me to slit my wrists came back with a vengeance.

Chapter 1

Abby

I stared out of the side window at the houses passing by. The last time I had been here in Sinners Field was eleven years ago. After Dad died, Mom moved with me to L.A. I could remember little of my childhood at Sinners Field, but the place must have grown a lot. The houses we drove past were all new. Even the buildings along the main street had changed. Some of them had to have been extended by one or two floors. Other houses had been torn down and replaced by new buildings. The place even had its own high school now. Sinners High. I felt sick at the thought I would start at the new school on Monday. I wasn't exactly the kind of girl who made friends. But I didn't need anybody. I was okay being alone. In a small place like Sinners Field, a new face was probably big news, and the vultures would surely be all over me.

You'll settle in quickly, said Aunt Claire in what was her hundredth attempt to start a conversation with me.

Hmpf, I replied.

Bethany is the same age as you. She can help you find your way around the new school.

Bethany. My cousin. I had only vague memories of Bethany from our childhood, but I knew that I didn’t like her then. She had been a cunning little bitch. She bullied me, but never in front of witnesses, and she got me in trouble a few times. To everyone else, she was the perfect angel. No one believed me then. I wondered if she had changed. Should I dare to hope that the bitch would suddenly be nice? I sighed softly. Somehow I doubted it.

Here we are, Aunt Claire announced, and steered the SUV into the driveway. Your new home.

I stared at the three-story monster of a house. Yes, I remembered. I had hated that house. There were so many dark corners in that damn building. When I was a kid, I imagined it was haunted, but the poltergeist of my childhood was probably called Bethany. Mostly, the memories of my childhood were blurred. You would think I had already been at an age when my memories should have been more developed. But most of my time before Daddy died was a blank. I couldn’t even remember my dad. Mom hadn’t kept any pictures of him. She had told me she destroyed all pictures because the memories were too painful. Sometimes I had the nagging feeling that I’d forgotten something important. My past was a puzzle with most of the pieces missing. Since I could think back, I had been a quiet, reserved child. I had suffered from nightmares since childhood. My mom had sent me to a psychiatrist for a while, but that didn't help. At thirteen, the nightmares disappeared for two years. Until the day when... I closed my eyes as the memories pressed in on me. No! I didn't want to think about it. Anything but that. My gaze fell on my hand, then slowly traveled upward over my arm, which was covered with a long sleeve. I showed no one what was under the sleeves. I always wore long-sleeved clothing. Even during sports. The scars were mine.

Abby? aunt Claire's voice ripped me out of my head. Is everything okay, sweetheart?

I took my eyes off my arm and looked at my aunt. Her brown eyes starred at me with concern. The poor woman didn’t know what a burden she placed on herself when she agreed to take me in. I was a mess. Disturbed. Broken. I was a fucking wreck.

I – I’m okay. I... I was just thinking about Mom, I said.

Compassion warmed her eyes, which suddenly seemed a little moist. She reached out a hand and put it on my knee, squeezing lightly.

I am so sorry, sweetheart. Your mom was an angel. She and Dan were like night and day.

Dan. My uncle. I barely remembered him, but I knew he hung himself two years after Dad died. Why, I had no clue. No one had ever told me any details. My entire family history was a mystery to me.

Okay, aunt Claire said with forced enthusiasm. Ready to go inside and start your new life?

Sure, I replied, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do. It wasn't as if I had any choice. It was Aunt Claire or the system. I had no desire to end up in the system. I knew how many kids were abused or mistreated by their foster parents. No, thanks. I had enough of that. So I took on my bitchy cousin instead.

Kent

"Sooo – you haven't seen her since you – what? – have been five?" Nate asked, giving Beth an irritated look.

Yup. Then she and her whore of a mother disappeared. Thank God! If only she’d disappeared forever.

What exactly do you have against her? I mean – you were five, for Christ's sake. What kind of problems can five-year-olds have? Did she pull your hair or what? I asked.

Ever since Beth found out that her cousin was moving in with them, she boiled with indignation. I really didn't understand the problem. Whatever had happened between them back then was kid’s stuff. Maybe this Abigail was all right now?

Kent's right, baby. Wait and see what she's like. Maybe she's cool.

Beth looked at Nate reproachfully, and I could see in her eyes she was about to fire up the waterworks. Beth was a drama queen. Typical Queen Bee. Bitchy, hollow and manipulative. I really had no idea what Nate saw in her. Sure, she was hot. Blonde curls, pretty face, full lips and endless curves. But inside, there was nada. No brain and no heart. To be honest, she wasn't even worth sticking my dick in one of her holes. She had done it with half the school. Namely, the male half. Including the teachers. I was probably one of the few who hadn't put their thing in her yet. And that was just as well. Just the thought of it made me gag. Not that I had anything against loose girls, but they had to have at least some class.

She's not even here yet and already you take her side, Beth sniffed dramatically and I rolled my eyes.

And here we go, I murmured, leaning back in my armchair to watch the drama unfold before me.

I am not taking her side. Don't be so dramatic all the time, Nate objected, half annoyed, half desperate. I merely said she might not be as bad as you imagine. Maybe you'll become BFF’s.

That back-stabber and me? BFF’s? Beth screeched.

Can I get some popcorn? I yelled at them. To enjoy the drama show in full?

Beth gave me a murderous glare, while Nate gave me a help-me-bro-look. I shrugged my shoulders. Beth was his problem. A problem I was glad not to have. If I should ever fall into the relationship trap, it would be with a girl who, apart from the mandatory TPA (tits, pussy, ass), also had the HB (heart and brain). Not that I've come across Miss Perfect so far. Every girl in our school who looked halfway decent was like Beth. And if not, then she was already taken. I know, I know. I shouldn't look at appearances, but was it so wrong if I wanted to at least find the woman I was with attractive enough that I wasn't forced to pull her skirt over her head to get it up? The drama unfolding before me came to an abrupt end when a car drove onto the gravel-covered driveway. Beth wiped her crocodile tears from her eyes and straightened her appearance. The chick was an actress par excellence, I had to grant her that. Just like her false tears from before. I knew, as soon as her mom opened the front door, Beth would be the blonde angel whose heart was made of nothing but gold. That was one reason I couldn't stand that woman. She was fake. Inside and out. Her personality as plastic as her tits and fingernails.

We are home! cried Mrs. Duncan.

We're in the lounge, Beth replied with feigned cheerfulness.

A little later footsteps approached and Mrs. Duncan came into the room. Behind her stood a girl who half hid behind her aunt. Mrs. Duncan turned to the girl and grabbed her by the hand to pull her into the room. My heart seemed to stop for a second. Abigail Baker, Beth's cousin, was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. And she didn’t even try. She wore tattered jeans, black chucks that had seen better days, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Her long black hair hung down to her hips. She was smaller than Beth. Petite.

Oh my God! cried Beth theatrically, clapping her hands together. I wouldn't have recognized you at all, Abby. When Mom said you were coming, I imagined this fat girl...

Bethany! her mom sharply interrupted her.

What? Beth replied innocently. It was a compliment. She was so fat as a child, and now she's as thin as...

That's enough, baby, Nate interfered, pulling Beth onto his lap. Hey, Abby. Nice to meet you.

Beth smiled, but I could see the anger in her eyes. First, Nate interrupted her and then he greeted the girl who she had chosen as her arch-nemesis. And she was jealous because she too had to notice how stunningly beautiful her cousin looked.

Abby

Any hope that Bethany might have changed burst like a soap bubble. She was just like she was then. Sugar-sweet on the outside, on the inside, poisonous like a viper. The guy who seemed to be her boyfriend, let his gaze slide over me, and I noticed the interest in his eyes. All the more reason for Bethany to hate me. Even though I had zero interest in stealing her boyfriend away from her, his obvious interest was already enough to paint a target on my chest. My gaze went to the other guy sitting in the armchair on the other side of the sitting area. His dark gaze was fixed on me and for a moment I felt as if someone had pulled the floor from under my feet. He was attractive, like Beth's boyfriend, but he had a casual messiness about him, with his slightly too long bangs that almost hung in his eyes and his five o’clock shadow. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as he pulled his lower lip between his straight white teeth. I was happy when Aunt Claire pulled me out of my rigor.

Please sit down, Abby. Beth can get us something to drink.

She looked at her daughter, who tried hard not to show her jealousy. She smiled so hard that I feared she would dislocate a muscle in her face.

But of course. I should have thought to prepare refreshments to give poor Abby a proper welcome. I mean, after all she...

Thank you, Beth, Aunt Claire interrupted before Beth could finish her sentence.

I followed my aunt to the sitting area, though I would have loved nothing more than to turn on my heels and storm out of the house. I didn’t want to be here. No, I wanted to go back to L.A. I wanted Mom to be alive, and I wanted her to make me her special lemonade and tell me that everything was okay. My eyes watered. I felt the dark clouds gathering inside of me. The scars on my arms and the insides of my thighs itched. The urge to take a razor blade in my hand and add another scar became almost unbearable. I had managed the last three weeks not to cut myself. Now, the numbness that had gripped me since Mom's death dissolved. Without the numbness the darkness came back. My hands trembled as I sat down in a chair, and I dug my fingers into the armrests to hide the trembling. Now that Beth was out of the room, her boyfriend didn’t even bother to hide his obvious interest. The only one who didn't seem to notice was Aunt Claire. She sat down next to me on another chair and stroked my arm gently.

"Abby, the nice