Short Abby fic. Again, no spoilers past "Rescue Me". I don't own the characters, so don't sue, and feedback is always loved.
I had that dream again last night.
The one where my mother's chasing me around the house with a knife, screaming. Where I'm scared and crying and I don't know what to do, she's my mother and I love her but she wants to kill me.
I suppose it's not a dream if it really did happen. A flashback, then, to my childhood. Interesting time it was, I guess, but not always happy.
I worried so much about her. I loved her and needed her and so often she wasn't there for me. I tried to help her but she never helped me. If I had a headache and needed a hug, she wasn't there. If I'd just broken up with my boyfriend and needed to talk about it, she was too busy with her own boyfriends to notice. Not that most of them were actual boyfriends, she specialised in one night stands.
I cried myself to sleep whenever things got really bad. I couldn't handle it. Couldn't cope. That's when I started drinking, you know. The pain lessened and I could forget about her, forget about all my problems and worries. There was just pleasure and relief.
I was an alcoholic by the time I left school. I moved out and started training to be a nurse, and away from her, I didn't need the drink. So I thought, anyway. But I couldn't resist it. It was too tempting. I needed it. I couldn't live without it.
One of my friends, another nurse, realised I had a problem, and persuaded me to go to AA. I didn't want to but at the same time the thought of maybe not having to rely on the drinking so heavily seemed nice. I was sober for a few years. Then it all began again. I gave in to the temptation and once I started, I couldn't stop, and didn't want to.
That was when my marriage disintegrated into nothingness. I cried for weeks, didn't want to get of bed or leave the house. And the drink, of course, was always there for me, like an old friend who would never abandon me.
Until one day I woke up and really looked at myself, and I was terrified at what I saw. I made a beeline for the AA meeting and kept on going. There's no easy solution to your problems, you have to work at it, but when I look back at those days and realise how addicted I was and how my entire life revolved around my dependency on alcohol, I don't want to go back. Never again, never again.
It makes my problems go away. And since I've been sober, I haven't had to cope with the woman who started it all off and began the vicious cycle.
Maggie, go home, I want to tell her, and have told her, several times. She won't go.
I love her. I can't force her.
I'm still scared of her, though, terrified of what she might do. Inside lurks the fearful ten-year-old girl that is never going to feel completely safe ever again.
You can see why I'm dreaming of the knife incident, huh?
"Abby, what's wrong?" Luka asks sleepily, propping himself up on one elbow, lying next to me in the bed.
"Nothing," I reply. "It's okay." And then I pause. Keep your problems to yourself, they escalate and get out of control and you feel you can't handle it and that's when it all begins.
And I begin to talk.