The Twisted Obsession
Chapter 140: I hate myself

Chapter 140: I hate myself

Taking a deep breath, Abby knew she couldn’t keep hiding the truth from him any longer. She owed him honesty, no matter how difficult it might be to share.

"I..." she began, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words. "I’ve struggled with my mental health for a long time," she confessed, her gaze dropping to her hands as she traced the lines of her palms.

Remo’s brow furrowed in concern, his eyes never leaving her face as he listened intently to her words.

"I’ve battled with depression and anxiety for years due to the bullying," Abby continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "There have been moments when... when the darkness felt overwhelming, and I didn’t see a way out."

A heavy silence hung between them as Abby’s words lingered in the air, the weight of her confession settling over them like a thick fog.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Remo’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with a mixture of hurt and understanding.

Tears welled up in Abby’s eyes as she met his gaze, the raw vulnerability of her admission laid bare before him. "I was scared," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "Scared that you wouldn’t understand, that you would see me differently if you knew the truth.You—wouldn’t want me—-I’m a mess Remo." Her lips curled up into a sad smile.

"My father’s death had triggered me," Abby finally confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the weight of her words heavy in the air between them.

Remo’s expression softened with understanding as he listened, his brown eyes filled with empathy. He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, offering silent support as she continued to open up to him.

"I felt like I was drowning in grief," she continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "I couldn’t see a way out of the darkness, and I... I didn’t know how to cope."

Abby’s voice faltered as she spoke of her father’s death, the memories flooding back with a force that threatened to overwhelm her.

She could feel the weight of grief pressing down on her chest, the pain of loss still raw despite the passage of time.

"It was... it was like the ground had been ripped out from beneath me," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "I felt like I was drowning, suffocating beneath the weight of my sorrow."

She closed her eyes, trying to push back the tide of emotions threatening to consume her. The image of her father’s lifeless body haunted her, his absence leaving a gaping hole in her heart that she feared would never be filled.

"I couldn’t bear the thought of facing each day without him," she continued, her words choked with tears. "The pain was... unbearable. I just wanted it to stop."

Abby’s voice trailed off as she struggled to find the words to convey the depth of her despair. The memory of that dark moment, the overwhelming urge to escape the pain, still lingered like a shadow in the recesses of her mind.

"And so I... I made the decision," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought it was the only way to make the pain go away."

Abby paused, "I’m just a coward—-God I hate myself so much."

As Abby’s words hung heavy in the air, Remo’s heart ached with a mixture of sorrow and understanding. He reached out to gently brush away the tears that streaked her cheeks, his touch a silent reassurance that he was there for her, no matter what.

"You’re not a coward, Abby," he said softly, his voice filled with compassion. "You’re human, and humans feel pain. It’s okay to struggle, to hurt, to feel lost sometimes. But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, always."

Abby shook her head, the weight of self-loathing heavy in her heart. "But I hurt you," she whispered, her voice thick with regret. "I pushed you away because I was too scared to let you see the darkness inside me."

Abby’s lips trembled as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and self-loathing. "I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, for hiding this part of myself from you."

Remo shook his head, his heart breaking for the pain she had carried alone for so long. "You don’t have to apologize, Abby. I’m just glad you’re sharing this with me now. We’ll get through this together, I promise."

But Abby couldn’t shake the weight of her self-hatred, the belief that she was somehow unworthy of love and understanding. "I hate myself," she confessed, her voice choked with emotion. "I hate that I couldn’t save my father, that I couldn’t save myself from this darkness."

Remo’s heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in her words, the depth of her self-blame cutting him to the core. "Abby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re not to blame for what happened. You did everything you could. And as for your struggles with mental health, that doesn’t make you any less worthy of love or happiness. You’re strong, Abby, stronger than you realize. And I’m here to help you through this, every step of the way."

A tear slipped down Abby’s cheek as she met Remo’s gaze, the weight of his words sinking in like a balm to her wounded soul. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for healing, for redemption, for a future filled with love and light.

And as Remo pulled her into his arms, holding her close in a silent embrace, Abby felt a glimmer of hope flicker to life in the darkness of her despair.

"I want to be stronger, confident," Abby declared, her voice tinged with determination as she met Remo’s gaze with fiery intensity. "I-I want revenge, Remo. I won’t spare anyone. Please help me—I don’t want to be weak any longer."

Remo could sense the fierce resolve burning within Abby, her words dripping with a desire for justice and retribution. He understood the depth of her pain, the need to reclaim her power in the face of those who had wronged her. And though he couldn’t condone revenge, he knew he had to support her in her quest for strength.

"I’ll help you, Abby," Remo assured her, his voice steady and unwavering. "But revenge won’t make you stronger. It’ll only consume you, turn you into someone you’re not."

Abby’s eyes flashed with defiance, but beneath the anger, Remo could see the vulnerability lurking, the wounds that still needed healing. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, offering her a lifeline in the storm of her emotions.

"We’ll find another way," he continued, his voice soft but resolute. "A way to seek justice without losing ourselves in the darkness."