Chapter Text
July 2nd, 2021, cause of death: heartache? Friendlessness? Whatever shit was going wrong with her? Although she used to be dramatic, this time was different. This time, it was real: the blade from her razor stared back at her while she sat in the garage, which actually was her brother’s art studio.
She had wanted to talk about it, tell someone what was going on, but no one listened. She got it, everyone was dealing with their own heavy stuff, and, after all, this wasn’t The Max Show. Real life sucked, man. But not for much longer.
For the first time in a very long time, her mind was quiet, there weren’t a million different thoughts per second making everything confusing and difficult. It was like she was telling herself this was the right decision, the right thing to do. This way she wouldn’t be in the way of her friends who no longer trusted her anymore or a distraction to her parents from Marcus’ problems.
Anyway, he was getting much better in rehab for what her parents had said. She wouldn’t know, he didn’t want her there to visit him. He was still mad for turning him in to their parents. He wouldn’t need her anymore. Once, her mother had said that they were twins and that it was a sacred bond.
Well, fuck all of them. And fuck her for being too dramatic, too loud, feeling too much and making everything about her. Fuck her for being too much. That wouldn’t be a problem from now on.
She thought about writing a goodbye, leave something behind. But if they hadn’t listened when she was alive why would they listen once she was already gone?
Taking a deep breath, she leaned the razor over her right wrist.
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Beep… beep… beep… beep…
That fucking machine.
Beep… beep… beep… beep…
It was really getting on her nerves.
It took all of Abby not to get up and unplug it.
If it weren’t because Max was the one that machine was tracking, she swears she would have done it. The girl laying on the bed looked so pale, but she supposed it was normal to look that way after losing that much blood. She hadn’t seen the scene, just arrived at the hospital while they were taking care of her.
Giorgia had gone to meet Ellen at her house to talk about some gossip she had found out when she had seen the garage door open. She went there to say hi to the Baker in there when she saw Max. The whole city was already talking about police cars, an ambulance and the commotion on the Baker family home by the time the news reached her.
She had been with Tris at that moment, hanging out in her room when Norah had called her. She didn’t pick up the first time, nor the second, but the third worried her. She wished she had picked up the first one. She didn’t say much to her girlfriend -or whatever Tris was- before running to the hospital.
That was more than two days ago and Max hadn’t woken up yet.
She had spent all the time she could at that hospital room with Max’s parents. She had convinced them to go home and rest a bit. She promised she would take care of her, but it felt quite wrong after all that happened. She had made that same promise to herself years before but failed. She failed Max.
Tris had called and texted her, but she didn’t have it in her to reply. What would she have said? “Yeah, I’ve been such a shitty person that my best friend tried to kill herself”? That wasn’t something to be proud of.
Norah had come with her both days but left sooner. She had fallen to her knees when they first saw Max sleeping on that room: pale, wrists cover with bandage, machines connected to her. It was like a scene of a movie, but instead of everything being fix magically and by the power of friendship they have a half dead girl on a hospital bed and no idea how to make amends of their actions. Ginny called from South Korea, asking to be informed of every update. Her mother was the only one who could convince her not to take a plane back after getting the news.
“Abby, honey, I think you should go home. It’s late.” Giorgia was standing on the edge of the door looking at her. “I’ll stay with her until Ellen and Clint return.”
Tears flooded her eyes.
“I can’t” She took care of one rebel tear that was rolling down her cheek with her sleeve. “I can’t” she repeated.
Giorgia entered the room and approached the redhead with sympathy in her eyes. She lay a hand on her shoulder.
“I know it’s hard and, although I don’t know everything that has happened between you four, I know you’ll take good care of her when she wakes up.” The blonde woman sounded so reassuring, so warm.
Her own mother had tried to talk to Abby about all of this the previous day, but she had ignored her. She didn’t understand, nobody did. Nobody understood what she was feeling seeing Maxine Baker lying on that hospital bed.