The usual "I do not own any person or entity from WWE. I do not represent them. I do not know them. I only own Ruby." Huzzah! Let us continue!
I know this sort of story isn't what one thinks of when one comes to the 'wrestling' portion of this site, but I honestly had no idea where else it belonged. This is Bray Wyatt's important backstory, though, so I assume this is as good a place as any. Most of the ideas in here are from the bits and pieces I could cobble together from Bray's works in the WWE(Look up Bray's ghost story on YouTube. Soooo good!). The rest is imagination alone. I may need a rewrite in the future if anything major happens. Hope you enjoy!
The girl had to have been not even sixteen years of age. From the looks of her, she was a runaway. Long, dark red locks spilled out from a dirty zip-up hoodie. She had large, downcast brown eyes. Sad eyes only the vulnerable and afraid have. Oh, yes, this girl was both. How she landed herself in New Iberia, Abby had no idea. She had been in town to pick up essentials for her home, and snacks for her band of gregarious boys. Sitting behind the wheel of her older pickup, Abby watched as the girl walked slowly down the sidewalk in front of the store, peering in with obvious hunger painted on her face.
"Girl! You there. You hungry, child?" Abby had rolled down the window, and called out to this sad waif of a girl in a light creole accent. The redhead had looked up in a bit of shock. Must have been a bit since anyone had spoken to her so kindly.
"Ma'am, I'm okay." the girl said, and kept walking. Such pride in her still. Abby chuckled to herself. Pride cometh before starving to death.
"Goodness, child. Get in. You're in no shape to walk away from a helping hand." That was the truth of the situation. The girl could die, alone, here in southern Louisiana, and she would be buried in the Potter's Field, a stranger. When the girl finally slid into the seat next to her, Abby turned her head, and saw the girl might be younger than she had originally guessed. She would find out in a moment. "So, you have a name?" Abby turned the ignition of the pickup, and with a growl, it started.
"Ruby." The girl did not give a last name. Abby didn't expect one.
"Ruby, my name is Abigail. As I expect you to follow the rules of my house as I take care of you, I'd prefer to be called Sister Abigail."
"Are you a nun, ma'am?" The question that everyone asked. That, Abby expected as well.
"I used to be, Ruby, I sure used to be. Married to Christ Himself, I was. Left the church many years ago already, but the name Sister is one that does not leave me quickly, child."
The pickup rumbled away from town, out into wilder places where the houses became less frequent. Soon, even those scarce homes were gone, and all the land was bark, and leaf. A slim dirt road wound its way through into a canopy of black gum trees. Sunlight filtered through in rays Ruby had never seen before. She was from the city. Which city she would never say. Trees were a thing you saw in the park. Ruby silently marvelled at it all. Perhaps this all was for the best, she told herself. She'd have never have seen this except for running away.
"How old are you, Ruby?" Sister Abigail asked. Ruby would have lied to anyone else, but she thought that even though she was a lapsed nun, she had still been a nun.
"Twelve, ma'am." Abby was taken aback. That was so very young. How on earth did she get to where she was at her age? She composed herself quickly.
"Child, Ruby, I'm sure you'll find things to do while you're here. If you want to stay a bit, that is. You see, I take in orphaned boys, and care for them here. A lot of them are around your age. I can get you your own room. At least until you plan what to do next, okay?" Abby knew keeping this girl off the streets was of utmost importance. The choice between sending her away to live or die, or keeping her here was not up for discussion. Yet she had to make Ruby think she had a choice, lest she try to run again. Abby would be the friend she needed at the right time.
The trees soon thinned a bit to the point where Ruby noticed a large, wooden structure in the distance, surrounded by smaller sheds, or cabins. The pickup drove to the side of the main building, and parked. Ruby looked up at the house; it's massive wooden beams made it look like it was grown rather than built. Ruby noticed what looked like a pudgy face in one of the upper floor windows, but it was gone by the time her eyes adjusted.
"Boys! I'm home! Help me with the bags!" Sister Abigail had hopped out of the pickup, and was walking around to lower the tailgate. Young men from every direction ran up, and started hugging Abby. She smiled, and looked straight at Ruby. "Now boys? We have a visitor. Her name is Ruby, and you are to be as polite to her as you are to me, do you understand? She will be with us for a bit. Be kind to her. Come on out, hun." With that, Ruby shyly slid out of the pickup, and slammed the door shut. All about her were these guys, most looked to be older than her, but not by a lot. Curious eyes stared, and she became even more shy. She instinctively went to stand by Sister Abigail, who was busy grabbing bags from the truck and handing them to the closest boys available. "Now, no need to stare. Come help with these bags, already!" Abby said, exasperated. Ruby followed the gaggle indoors, and was surprised at what she saw.
The first place Ruby saw was the massive living room. The tall, stone fireplace the focal point. It had a wooden mantle, on top which sat what looked to be scented candles, and various other knick knacks. The chairs, and the two large sofas had a traditional look, and were overstuffed. Comfortable looking. Lace doilies covered wooden end tables. The home looked much more hospitable inside than out, and definitely had Sister Abigail's country, feminine touch. The scent of pine and apples wafted in the air. The air was also cold. Ruby did not even think there would be air conditioning here, let alone electricity, or running water.
"I'll have one of the boys show you to your room. Bray? Bray, baby? Come down here and help me?" Sister Abigail looked at Ruby, and smiled. "Bray is your age. You two are the youngest here, then. I hope you both can find things in common. He needs a friend." Sister Abigail had said this last part quietly, leaning in to Ruby. A tall, pudgy boy walked forward. "Ah, Bray, thank you, baby. Take Ruby to the room next to you, okay? You all cleaned in there this week, right? There should be no dust? Good. Run along for now. Ruby? I'll bring you up something to eat, and then you can have a tour later!"
The pudgy Bray boy walked ahead of Ruby, leading her silently up a couple flights of stairs. This place was so much larger than Ruby dared dream. They walked down a carpeted hallway to the very end.
"You were the face I saw in the window." Ruby didn't ask. She knew. The boy turned to look at her. His eyes were blue, and had strange shadows within. He shrugged, tucked a strand of slightly long brown hair behind his ear, and continued walking. The very last door of the hallway he opened, and showed her inside. There was a small twin sized bed, but it had a lovely scrolling metal frame. There was a wooden dresser, and a small desk with a light on it. It wasn't much, but it sure beat sleeping at a bus station, curled up on the hard floor. Ruby turned to Bray, but the boy was gone. He was a strange one, she mused to herself. At least Sister Abigail seemed nice.
The following days were spent feeding Ruby, with Sister Abigail trying to get some weight back on her. Abigail worked on a couple of simple dresses for her to wear in the meantime. They had toured what Abby had called "the compound", for there were all of those outbuildings beyond just the main house. There were chickens in one, a few milk cows in another. One was for storing supplies. Though not fully autonomous, the compound lived off of donations from kindly people who knew of Abby's work with orphans. Some of the older boys would go sell eggs, and whatever was in season in the garden, at the weekly farmer's market in New Iberia. They made it this way. Ruby could tell Abigail was proud. The whole place piqued Ruby's curiosity, and this is what Abby hoped for. This would make Ruby stay a while. This was good.
Occasionally Ruby would see Bray. Usually at dinner, where the entire "family" would eat. All the boys called each other "brother", Ruby had found out. Now that she had been there a full week, she was "Sister Ruby". As the two youngest, "Brother" Bray and herself would be sat at the end of the table. Normally, he would eat quickly, then ask in a quiet voice to be excused. Sister Abigail seemed to be disappointed in his lack of social skills, but let him go anyway. She knew he had...*demons* to take care of. All in time, Abby mused. To Ruby, he was a mystery. That pulled her to him. At night, she would lie in bed, and wonder what his story was. What parts of him were so damaged that he was like that? Even she had her stories. She had run away because of them, but she wasn't so distant. In a way, he was romantic to her, this almost silent boy. He fired her imagination. Some nights, she would press her hand against the wall they shared, as if information would flow into her.