Abby Age Fifteen

“Wear those clothes, but don’t stain them,” Mom ordered.

I stared at the beautiful pink dress on top of her freshly made bed. It had been so long since I’d worn brand new clothes. The last time was on my tenth birthday. Grandma bought me a blue dress with a pair of black, shiny Mary Janes and a headband. I wore it for her funeral, but later Mom took it away and I could wear it only during special occasions—like when she brought a new boyfriend home and wanted me to play the happy daughter.

That dress doesn’t fit me anymore, so I could see why she had to buy me a new one. Who would it be now? Another man who I’d have to play house with and convince that my mother and I loved each other. She hated me and never missed an opportunity to show me.

“Be ready in thirty minutes,” she ordered. “We’re going to meet Corbin and his children.”

Corbin? That’s an ugly name. I wished she didn’t drag me to her meet and greet. Playing the compassionate, sweet, sensible mother was her worst role. It surprised me that she had chosen a man with children.

She pulled me by the hair and pushed my head against the bed. “I said get ready, bitch. And you better behave, or I swear you’ll pay for it.”

How would I pay?

Food, hot water, bathroom privileges … all of the above. Even animals deserved better treatment than what she offered.

It’s only a few years, Abigail. Three more years and you’ll be old enough to ditch this psycho.

Nothing she said or did could break me. It wasn’t me. It was her. Some people don’t have what it takes to be human, and she was one of them.

The dress she bought was too short, and the shoes too narrow. I’d never walked in heels before, but I tried my best. Complaining was pointless. I followed her to the car and sat in the backseat while she drove us downtown. She parked several blocks away from the restaurant. As I stumbled trying to walk in the ridiculous heels she gave me, I questioned if the shoes were her new way of torturing me.

“Stop walking like that,” she chided. “You look like a chicken.”

Most of her comments made me wonder why God gave her a kid. Certainly, she didn’t want me. Mom left me with my grandmother just days after I was born. At twenty-eight she decided that she wasn’t old enough to care for a newborn baby. At forty-three it wasn’t any different. Then when Grandma died before my eleventh birthday, Mom had to take me back.

It was because of Grandma’s house, placed in part of a trust under my name. If Mom wanted to live rent free, she had to deal with me. In a way, I was her landlord, yet she treated me like I was a dog begging for food.

“Corbin,” her voice changed to a sticky sweet tone. Her smile seemed to increase when the guy named Corbin kissed her on the cheek.

“You look radiant, Olga,” he greeted Mom and then turned his attention to me.

“Is this your sister?”

“Aren’t you adorable?” Mom grinned at him. “Abigail, this is Corbin.”

His eyes flickered as he looked me over from head to toe, staring at my legs for too long.

“Shaun,” he called someone over. “Meet your new sister, Abigail.”

Shaun looked at me in the same way that his father did. Then he stared at my mouth and grinned.

“You’ll do,” he said, winking at me.

“That’s Ava?” Mom asked about a girl who stood closer to the restaurant’s door. “She’s so precious.”

“Yes, she’s the quiet one,” Corvette, or Cordial or whatever his name was, told Mom.

He glanced at me before he spoke, “You two are going to be best friends—share everything.”

What was “everything?” I asked myself. His words sounded like a threat, not a sweet invitation to share my toys with his daughter, which would be weird. At fifteen I didn’t go on playdates or own any toys. The tone he used made me shiver. I hugged myself, closing my eyes tight. I sent a prayer to God and Grandma. Hopefully, like the others, this man would leave before he got too comfortable.

“Let’s go, Abigail,” Mom ordered. “We’re having our first family dinner.”

I stared at her with my mouth open wide. How could she say that when we barely knew these people? I followed right behind them. Ava began to walk a few steps after me and Shaun joined her.

My heart stopped when I heard his creepy voice. “Dad got us a new toy. You’ll cooperate, won’t you, sweet Ava?”

Present Day

“Until I turn into an elephant,” Wes says, thumping his hand against the table.

“What?” I frown at Wes, who’s talking nonsense.

“Are you okay?” Wes looks at me in bewilderment.

“Yes, why would you ask?”

“You’ve been staring at your food. I’ve been talking to you, and you’re just nodding and shaking your head.”

Peyton reminded me of them … Corbin and Shaun. The girl. Poor little Ava, who is finally at peace after having to live with them.

“Can we go?”

“Yes. We can order something and eat at the office,” he says taking me into his arms. “I just want you to remember that you’re safe with me.”

“Of course, I am, silly. And I’m okay.” I lie, scratching my head hard. Letting my nails dig deep into my scalp. The pain releases the anxiety building inside my gut.

Nothing is going to happen to me.

Yet, the dread is overtaking me so swiftly that no amount of self-inflicted pain will help me.

What if they see me?

I have Wes by my side.

“I don’t want to pry,” he says as we board the elevator. “But who died that night?”

“Ava.” I stare at the floor.

“Who was Ava to you?”

“Ava was …” I remember the thin, little blonde girl who barely spoke and was afraid of her own shadow. When I met her and her family I knew something wasn’t right. Shaun’s bloodshot eyes coupled with his weird comments during dinner. The way he touched her knee with a fork and ran it over her leg. It was so bizarre and sickening.

“My mom met a guy when I was fifteen. They got married a year later and moved in with us,” I explain trying to filter my story.

This isn’t the time to be open with him. We’re just starting a relationship. How would he react if he knew what I lived through, what I saw, and what I had to do … would he ever understand?

“He was a single parent, too,” I continue, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

“Corbin had two children—twins. Ava and Shaun.”

“We were told that Ava was your sister,” he says with an inquisitive tone.

His hands tap lightly against the table. He’s dying to throw multiple questions at me.

“But she was like your sister?”

I shrug. We weren’t related, nonetheless by the end we’d shared so much. Ava and I barely exchanged words. Yet, we had a bond that would keep us together until …. My heart thumps fast remembering her last moment. The way she lay on the floor bleeding but finally leaving the pain behind. Though, it almost felt like when she died, she left all of her anguish behind for me to pick up. Every second that I lived with her, what we lived through in that room together, is coming back to me now. It feels like it happened last night and like I should be hiding in case he comes back.

“What happened to Shaun?”

I freeze at his question; my heart accelerates.

“You say one word, bitch, and you’ll die. Do you understand?”

“Kill me,” I begged him. “Just let me die.”