My name is Anabelle Birmingham. I am twenty- five years old. And this is the story of how I met my family.
Eleven years earlier:
"You're pathetic," states my grandfather as he walks past me to his room, staring at the television. I am watching Doctor Who.
"YOU FUCKING WEIRDO!" my mother roars. "YOU'RE OBSESSED."
"I'M NOT OBSESSED." I roar back.
I flinch when my mother whips me with a dirty towel she began to put in the washer. I walk away with a look of strength upon my features, keeping back my tears.
"GO. RUN OFF AND WATCH YOU DUMB SHIT. THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU EXIST AND THEY NEVER WILL. YOU FANTISIZE ABOUT FUCKING THEM."
I break at the last sentence and turn around. "I… DO… NOT! BUT I BET YOU DO WITH JOHNNY DEPP!"
She doesn't reply and I go into the bathroom and lock the door. I sit down in front of the sink cabinets and think about the Fourth Doctor. Four is so different from all of the other seven. After all the times I've spent hiding in this place, I have a story about a girl named Delila and her adventures with the Doctor in my head. At least I made her a happy person, meaning no horrible family members and social, not obsessive over celebrities and fictional characters. God, I wish I was happy.
I hear a blood curdling scream. After that, I listen to the silence for more noise. Something bangs on the door and I jump to the foot of wall between the sink and shower. I hear… growling?
I hear shouting as the thing tries to scratch its way through the white, weak door between us. I hear a gunshot and a whine that comes from a dog when it is hit.
I hear a somewhat muffled conversation.
"Why was it trying to get in here?"
"I don't know, Dad."
"Check."
I quietly get up and hide behind the shower curtain. The lock turns with a click! And the door opens. The light comes on and hurts my retinas; I wince. The curtain unexpectedly opens and I scream, jumping backwards, slipping and falling down into the tub.
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you!" a gentle voice says.
It helps me up and I get a good look at him. Dark, green eyes, short dirty blonde hair and freckles galore. He was cute. The other man looked older and stern with brown eyes and short brown hair.
"Who are you?" I ask the green eyes.
"My name is Dean and that's my dad, John. Who are you?"
"Anabelle, with one 'n'," I reply.
"You need to come with us," John says seriously.
"Why?"
"It's not safe here." He turns around and sulks out of the door.
When I walk out of the bathroom, Dean in the lead I notice a large puddle of blood that I know is slowly seeping into the carpet. I sigh, that'll be a bitch to get out. "What was at the door?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," Dean reassured me.
"It was in my house. I deserve to know."
"No, it's for your own good. You don't need to know."
He guides me to the glass door in the Den instead of the one in the kitchen with the porch. How come Rocky isn't barking?
"Where is my dog?!" I begin to panic.
My Rottweiler, Rocky, comes running to me, his stub of a tail in full swing. I kneel down to hug him. "How come he trusted you so quickly?"
Dean shrugs. "Food," his dad replies.
"That makes sense. You little food hog," I coo.
"Come on," he commands.
"If I'm going with you, I'll need to pack a few things."
"Dean, go with her."
I walk back into my house with Dean, who I really want to call Dean- Bean, and I begin to pack some of my clothes in a messenger bag. Dean looks around my room at all of my posters and sketches.
"A Doctor Who fan?" he asks.
"Uh… yeah…" I grab the recent Harry Potter book I own and throw it into the bag it is soon followed by my first ever Doctor Who poster and drawing. I would protect them with my life. "Okay, let's go."
Dean leads me to the outside again and I see a black car behind my family's 2000 Toyota Camry. Brand new by the way. He opens the backseat door as John opens the trunk, putting something inside.
"Where is my family?" I ask as they get into the car.
"Gone," John replies. He starts the car and drives up my gravel driveway.
"What do you mean 'gone'?"
"Gone," he repeats, more agitated.
I lean back in my seat, "Where are we going?"
Dean turns around to look at me and flashes a smile. "We're taking you some place safe. The guy you're gonna meet, has a Rottweiler, too."
"That's cool," I grin.
It wasn't so cool when I find out that we have to travel across the United States to South Dakota. The difference in time will take some getting used to. When we got to Missouri, Knoxville, Tennessee felt so far away. I fall asleep to this song that talks about a wayward son and carrying on with a book in hand. The painful crick in my neck wakes me. We have stopped at a Burger King. "C'mon Ana," Dean says getting out.
I stay close to his side, basically afraid of everyone around me including John. By the way, where is he? "Where's John?" I ask as we go into the restaurant.
"He had to go on a different mission and left me in charge of you."
"Oh. How old are you?"
"I'm twenty- five, you?"
"Fourteen."
"What can I get you two?" the nice brunette behind the counter asks.
Dean looks to me. "What do you want?"
"A number one with a Dr. Pepper but can it only have ketchup, pickles, and mustard?"
The cashier smiles and types in my order. Dean orders a cheeseburger, extra onions, with fries and a Coke. "Nice scarf, by the way," she says.
I look down bashfully. "Thank you." I have a scarf like Tom Baker's. I take it everywhere with me.
He pays for our order and we walk to the booth closest to the car. I don't really know who this man is, but he looks at me curiously. "What's with the scarf?" he says taking a huge bite of his burger.
"It's the Fourth Doctor's scarf."
He nods, "That's cool. I used to have this Baywatch poster. Whew… I kept it with me all the time."
He finishes his burger, licking his fingers. I haven't even looked at mine, nor have I eaten all my fries. "You alright, kiddo?" he asks.
I don't look up from my hands in my lap, "Oh nothing."
"I know that look. My brother used to do the same thing."
I grab my drink and sip it.
"Why were you hiding in a dark bathroom?"
I almost choke.
"Ana, I'm serious."
"My mom," I say trying to clear my airway. "She said that my favorite celebrities didn't know I existed and they will never know me. Don't you think I don't already know that?" I hide my face in my hands trying to keep in my tears.
I hear Dean packing up something. I look up.
"Come on. We're leaving."
I follow him silently out of the Burger King. "Where are we?"
"Colorado," he replies getting into the driver's seat. I decide to get in the passenger side. He pops in a cassette tape into the deck and Metallica begins to play.
"You're mother's a bitch" he says.
I burst out laughing. He grins at my laughter. "You're awesome!" I exclaim.
He holds out his left fist. I hesitate. "Come on," he says shaking his hand around.
I return the fist bump, smiling widely. Maybe this guy isn't a psychopathic killer; I mean... he brought the food I haven't eaten so I could eat it later. He was... kind… kind as the Doctor… I love it.