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Abby

Anthony McGirr




  ABBY

  Part One of Three

  Written By: Anthony J. McGirr

  Copyright 2013

  Kindle Edition

 

  1

  Little Abigail Miller was only seven years of age when she was on her own for the first time.

  She reached up with the collar of her shirt to wipe the sweat off her brow as she watched the heat lightning spark silently above in the Houston sky. The mid-August air was so sultry she was convinced she was about to boil right out of her skin.

  It was Abby's first night alone, and she was terrified without the care of her parents. They were abusive and neglectful, but at least she had a safe bedroom for hiding in and she was fed when she got hungry. In her haste to escape, she didn't really take the time to think it through and left without food or water, stuffing only several changes of clothes and her teddy bear, Charles into her backpack. Even if she wanted to, it was now too late to go back. Her life as she knew it was over, not to mention the fact that she had no idea how she got to the bus station in the first place. She only remembered walking aimlessly through the maze of massive skyscrapers with no mission or goal until she happened upon a sign pointing the way.

  Bus Station: ½ Mile

  Abby was ignorant to the real world and what it took to survive on her own, but what she knew without a doubt was that buses took you places and in her mind, this was her ticket out. Invigorated with new hope, the little girl made it to the station, only to find it closed and abandoned for the night. The parking lot was empty and it gave her the creeps.

  Not far off, a loud noise startled Abby enough to make her jump. It sounded much like a car backfiring or even worse, a gun being fired. She couldn't tell. She gripped onto her backpack and held it across her chest, squeezing tight, as if her life counted on it. She didn't feel safe here, sitting on a bench in an abandoned parking lot, far from the warm comfort of her own bed. Danger wasn't too far away in any direction.

  Just when Abby thought it couldn't get any worse, it did.

  To her right appeared a man from the shadows of the freeway overpass. He whistled joyfully as he made his way in her direction, a noticeable limp with each step he took with his left leg. He was a black man, wearing a tattered gray suit and holding a plastic grocery bag at his side. He was an older gentleman, sporting patches of hair that were as gray and worn as his suit.

  “Well, well, well!” he said as he approached. Abby tried to make herself as tiny and invisible as possible, but it was too late. He already spotted her and let out a heavy sigh as he sat on the bench next to her. The man was sweating profusely, the sweat streaking down his face and soaking the collar of his shirt. He smiled at the girl, revealing a few crooked and missing teeth. But there was something about that smile that calmed her.

  “My name is Benjamin. I was sitting over there under the overpass and I couldn't help but notice you squirming about. Here, have an orange.” he said, reaching into his plastic bag. Benjamin held the orange out to her, but she didn't take it. Her mother always told her never to accept things from strangers. Instead, he set it down on the bench next to her. “You can eat it later,” he said, still smiling.

  After several minutes of awkward silence had passed between them, Benjamin picked up the orange and began to peel it while he spoke. “It's mighty hot out here tonight. What's a little thing like you doing alone in the big city? This sure ain't a place for pretty girls like you.”

  “I ran away,” Abby said weakly. He was a nice enough man, but she didn't want to give away too much about herself or why she was out here alone. He wouldn't understand. No one would.

  “I bet you're hungry. Go ahead and take it,” Ben said, handing her the freshly peeled orange. Abby was apprehensive, but the strong citrus smell teased her stomach. It had been rumbling with intense hunger for most of the day.

  “Thank you,” she said, finally giving in to her appetite. Abby devoured the orange and when she finished, she glanced up and saw that he had peeled her a second.

  “You must've been starving,” he said.

  “I've been walking most of the day. I forgot to pack some food,” she said. The oranges were sweet and delicious, but they only teased her ravenous stomach.

  “So, are you going to tell me why you're out there all alone?” Ben asked.

  “I just need to leave. Start a new life far from here,” she answered. Abby was now sitting cross-legged on the bench, eyes focused intensely forward. She was grateful for the food, but didn't want to tell this man any details.

  “So you hope to just hop on a bus and ride your way to freedom. Do you have enough money?”

  “Money?” she asked, glancing up at him. Ben smiled at the girl's innocence.

  “Yes. You need to pay to take the bus,” he answered.

  “Are you sure? I take the bus to school every morning and don't have to pay anything.”

  “Hun, this isn't a school bus. It's been a long time since I've taken a bus anywhere, but last time I did, I remember it being fairly expensive. I don't think you have that kind of change in your backpack,” he said. Abby's expression turned grim.

  Tears streaked down the little girl's freckled face. The old man sighed. She was a child of privilege, wearing very nice clothing and she was very pretty, but didn't know a thing about the world. Benjamin knew she wouldn't last a full day out here on the streets.

  “Where do you live?” he asked the girl. Abby wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to remain strong.

  “I don't know,” she said, her lip trembling. Seeing the fear in her eyes, the man knew he had to do something. He couldn't just leave her here to fend for herself.

  “I'll tell you what, little one, I'll head back to my place and find you some money. It's a long walk from here, but I'm sure I will be back before the station opens up. I will buy you a ticket to wherever you want to go. In the meantime, I want you to try and rest. Let me show you something,” he said. The old man stood and walked to the edge of the building. Abby curiously watched him, but didn't follow until he waved her over. She took her bag and followed Benjamin.

  “See that door right there? See the crack under it? That's where the cool air from inside the building escapes out. If you lay down next to that crack, you will stay cool. Use your bag as a pillow and try to get some rest. I'll be right back,” he said.

  Abby followed Benjamin's direction, laying down at the base of the door. The cold air rushed out just as he said, instantly cooling her hot skin. It wasn't the most comfortable place in the world to sleep, but it would do for now. The old man smiled at Abby, watching as she reacted to the cool relief.

  “Okay good girl. I'll be right back,” he said, disappearing back the direction he came. For the first time since she arrived at the bus station and found it closed, Abby started to think maybe everything would finally work out in her favor. Nice people like Benjamin would help her get everything she needed. Maybe there would be a few nights like tonight sleeping on the pavement, but that was a small price to pay for escaping hell.

  Feeling confident and no longer sweltering in the Houston heat, Abby allowed herself to close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

  * * * *

  When Abby snapped her eyes open, she hoped to see Benjamin smiling at her with a wad of cash in his hand. Instead, there was a police officer, crouched down with a look of concern in his eyes. This is bad! Really bad, she thought to herself. Standing a few feet behind the officer was the old man. He was staring back at her, his face oozing with guilt for what he had done.

  “Hi. My name is Officer Carlson,” the cop said. Abby rubbed her e
yes, feeling more exhausted than she's ever felt. It was all beginning to take a toll; the lack of real food and barely a wink of sleep.

  “What's your name?”

  “I'm Abigail,” she said.

  “Abigail. That's a pretty name,” he said. He was very young. And cute. “What's your last name?”

  “Miller,” she answered. Officer Carlson smiled.

  “Abigail Miller. Beautiful. Can you tell me why you're out here at the bus station in the middle of the night?” he asked. Abby watched him carefully, not sure if even he could be trusted. He appeared strong, like he could lift a car over his head if he had to. His presence made her feel safe, like as long as he was there, nothing in the world could hurt her. She decided to trust him.

  “I don't know where I live. I ran away from home and got lost,” Abby said.

  “She told me she had been walking most of the day,” the old man said. Abby shot him a glance of contempt, wishing he would go back to whatever hole he crawled out of.

  “Abby, what is your father's name?” Officer Carlson asked.

  “John Miller,” she answered. The officer smiled and touched the girl on the shoulder.

  “Everything will be okay now. I'll contact your family and...”

  “No! You can't do that!” she screamed, startling both men. Abby was now on her feet. She grabbed her bag and clutched it again to her chest. She couldn't go back to that house. Her life there was all over. It was time for a fresh start.

  “Calm down Abby. Everything will be okay! I bet your parents are worried sick about you,” he said, trying to stop her from going into a full panic. When he reached out for her, she instantly stepped backward until the door stopped her.

  “Don't touch me! Leave me alone!” the girl screamed.

  “Abby, what's wrong? Tell me what's going on. Please?” said the cop, still crouched. He didn't understand the fear he saw in this little girl's eyes. Something was terribly wrong.

  “I just can't go back there! I can't! I need a new mommy and daddy!” she yelled. Abby turned to run across the parking lot, but Officer Carlson anticipated her move and quickly grabbed her by the arm.

  “Please don't run away Abby. I only want to help you,” he said, trying to keep the girl from running.

  “No you don't! You just want to take me back there! I can't go back!” She tried to wiggle out of Officer Carlson's grasp, but he wouldn't let her go.

  “Calm down. Let me tell you something, okay? You're not in any trouble or harm. I will go back with you. I will go inside and look around to make sure it's safe. I will not just drop you off and leave. If I don't feel it's completely safe, I will take you with me, understand? You're not alone, Abby.” he said reassuringly. She started to calm a little. He opened his arms as a gesture of trust. Abby hesitantly let herself be embraced, but didn't hug him back. “Good girl,” the officer said. He stood, took Abby by the hand and walked her to the cruiser. He opened the door to the backseat and waved her in.

  “It's quite comfy back there. I have the air on full blast. You can lay down and take a nap for a bit until I find out where you live,” he said. Abby watched him as he closed the door behind her, then went over to the old man. The two of them talked about something, then shook hands. The old man waved back at Abby before turning and heading back where he came. She couldn't take her eyes off him until he disappeared into the shadows of the overpass.

  What a strange man, she thought. Abby didn't quite understand why he lied to her or why he decided to call the police. Either way, she felt bad for him. Despite his constant smiling, he seemed rather sad and lonely. Abby waved back, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

  * * * *

  It was about an hour before Officer Carlson pulled the cruiser into her parent's driveway. Abby tried to close her eyes and sleep, but it didn't come. She was deathly afraid of what might happen when she got back. Abby knew for sure she was in for the biggest punishment of her life. The one thing that calmed her was knowing that she could always escape again, this time much more prepared.

  As Abby occupied her mind with thoughts of her second escape, she felt the car stop and the engine shut off. She sat up to see that they were back at the house. Officer Carlson turned around with a smile, but his smile faded seeing the absolute horror on the girl's face.

  “I tried calling the house to let your father know we were on our way and he shouldn't worry, but no one answered. I'm sure your parents were sleeping and didn't hear it,” he said.

  “I...I don't want to d-do this,” said Abby, digging her fingers into the seat.

  “Sweetie, I told you that everything is going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to you,” he said. Officer Carlson watched the girl for several more seconds. When it became evident that she wasn't going to relax, he let out a sigh then climbed out of the car. Once he opened Abby's door, he crouched down once more to her level.

  “Listen, you can sit here for a little bit longer if you want to, but I was hoping you would be a brave little girl and come to the door with me.” She remained sitting, watching as Officer Carlson as he headed for the front door of the house. Abby wanted to run up to him, latch onto his leg, pull him back, anything to stop him from going into that house.

  Reaching the doorway, Officer Carlson rang the doorbell and waited. He waited patiently for several minutes before ringing it again. When there was no answer, he attempted to knock, but the door opened a crack just as he touched it. He slowly pushed the door open, then gazed into the pitch-black entryway.

  “Hello? Anyone home?” he called, his voice echoing inside. He reached for his flashlight.

  “They're dead,” Abby said from behind. She was standing several feet behind him in the front yard, watching grimly. The girl's face lacked any color, as if she were nothing but an apparition.

  “Who's dead?” he asked. Officer Carlson pulled his gun and held it at his side.

  “Both of them. It was Maxwell. I told him not to kill them, but he was just defending me,” she said, tears rolling down her face.

  “Are you telling me that both of your parents are dead?” Abby nodded.

  Officer Carlson turned on his flashlight and stepped into the house. The scene was more gruesome than he ever imagined. There was a blackish-red stain on nearly every surface of the living room; sprayed on the walls, pooled on the floor and splattered on every piece of furniture. Officer Carlson didn't move at first, the scene too much for his brain to handle. But when his eyes finally caught the bodies of Abby's parents next to each other on the floor, he pulled himself together and called for backup.

  2

  Five Years Later

  Abigail had a love-hate relationship with her new family. She loved her new parents, the house, her bedroom. But Eva was a different story. It wasn't something Abby complained about. The positive far outweighed the negative. Living here was a tremendous step up from the all-girls state house where she was staying, waiting to be adopted. She had no privacy and was just another mouth to feed to those who ran it. Not to mention the other girls thought she was weird.

  Abby was the loner, the one girl that all the others teased for being different. The only real friend in her life was Maxwell. Often, she would escape to her own little closet or to the furthest corner of the yard just to be with him without ridicule. She never understood how she was the only one who could see him. It made her an outcast because she had such a friend.

  Now that she had been adopted, her only tormentor was Eva. Abby did her best to just ignore her older sister, holing herself up in her room and rarely coming out unless she knew Eva was gone. Luckily they went to two different schools, which made it easier. The only time the two girls had to see each other was during dinner and the weekend. Even now, in the back seat of Martha's oversized
Buick, Abby leaned against the back window with her headphones on. She tried her best to ignore the fighting in the front seat, but she couldn't turn her iPod up loud enough.

  Tomorrow night was Eva's sweet-sixteen party. It wasn't really a big blow-out party like you would expect a wealthy, popular girl to throw, but rather a small, intimate gathering of a few of Eva's closest girlfriends. At first Jim and Martha were against the idea of letting their young daughter and her friends have the house to themselves overnight, but daddy's little girl knew how to pull all the right strings. Martha still wasn't too happy about it and now the fight had spilled into whether or not Abby was allowed to be there as well.

  “Take Abby to the hotel with you. I don't want her at my party,” Eva pleaded.

  “I really think it would be good for the two of you to get to know each other. I know you haven't been exactly happy with us for adopting a girl, but I want you to give this a chance,” said Martha. Neither of them thought Abby could hear their argument, but she heard every word loud and clear. She closed her eyes and pretended to nap.

  “She has an imaginary friend who she talks to constantly! It would be totally embarrassing to have the little runt there.”

  “I don't care. This is my compromise. If you want your father and me to leave for the night and let you have this little party, your sister will be there. It's either us or her. Your choice,” her mother fired back.

  “But dad said...”

  “I don't care what your father has to say. I'm sick and tired of him letting you do whatever you want just because you beg and plead. You're about to be sixteen, Eva! It's time to grow up and start acting like it!”