Hello all! First fanfiction in a LONG time! Comment and tell me what you think/where I should take it… :)
((Re-reading some of this because I was looking for something... I originally wrote this chapter not thinking that Abigail was blind, so some things are a little shaky as to whether or not she can do some of these things... If you get past this first chapter, I promise you it will be better hahahaha))
If I were ever to be so bold and say that I have learned anything in my twenty-one years, it would be that time moves on. No matter what you do, you cannot stop it or reverse it. You can't simply slow it down or speed it up. Time will pass you by before you finish comprehending the questions that it poses. If you do not live each moment to its full potential, you will be busy wasting other moments regretting it. You will never get these moments back. Time, therefore, is the one constant in a world of variables; our world. Of course, many people probably do not give time a second thought. They are busy wasting their moments on small details, minuscule obstacles blocking their path to beauty and fortune, not knowing that their time is numbered, every second counting down to their last.
Some have more moments than others. Some people only have an hour's worth of moments to share with the world before they are taken away. Others have a decade's worth stashed away in their head, waiting for a friendly face to come along and share these experiences with in an old bar down the street. Many consider themselves fortunate to have these moments to share; they had lived each moment as if it would be their last, knowing that that final moment is coming sooner rather than later. Some wish that the moment in question would come quickly. These are the ones who have wasted their precious moments, their thoughts plagued by regret and shame. But what does one do in that situation? They have no fond memories to share with friendly faces in an old bar down the street, so they feel doomed to sit around and wait for their moments to simply end already. Frustrated and scarred, they unintentionally corrupt the world with their madness.
Abigail stared at him. She imagined that his eyes would be slightly frightening; unmoving and piercing, she couldn't look away. An unnerving feeling swarmed her, she felt him stare into her. Keeping her cool, she pushed back the instinct to shudder. It took her awhile to get to this position in his mind. She would not let him win this one. She sensed every move he made, and he calculated hers.
Like a whip, she lashed out and snatched the last homemade chocolate chip cookie and dashed off into the streets of Paris.
"ABIGAIL!" Doug screamed, chasing after her into the night.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" she yelled back, clinging to the cookie for dear life, "IT'S MINE!"
This action is absolutely intolerable in Doug's mind. Homemade chocolate chip cookies from his grandmother were equivalent to gold, and not just one lousy chunk of it; we're talking a good five to one ratio here. Unfortunately, Abigail did not have five pounds of gold hanging around and had to resort to other measures. She had no choice, really.
She grabbed a small device from her pocket and hit it against her waist as she dashed down the familiar street. It popped open to expose a long black stick. Abigail cautiously moved it in front of her as she ran, carefully brushing it against the ground. Darting into an alley, Abigail dashed up the emergency ladder up to the rooftop, cookie in one hand, the cane in the other. She quickly grasped each familiar bar; however, in her haste, her hand slipped halfway up, leaving her hanging onto dear life with one hand. Gasping, she felt around before finding the ladder again and continued her ascent.
Army crawling to the edge of the roof, she listened intently. Hearing nothing, she sighed with relief and turned over onto her back, mentally preparing her taste buds for the ride of their life.
"Boo."
She must have jumped a foot into the air. Wide eyed Abigail stared into space as an eerie looking Doug loomed over her, looking into her foggy eyes. She smiled weakly. The shadow on him made it seem as though he were missing half of his face; the sight would have frightened her.
"Heh, heh. You know I was kidding right Doug? Right?" she said quickly. He carefully tapped her shoulder. She quickly surrendered the cookie to him, narrowing her eyes as she heard him pop the prize into his mouth.
"Yo mim wan pum om shome shoes." Doug said through a mouthful of heaven. He swallowed, and gave her an incredibly dashing half grin, forgetting she couldn't see it. He carefully grabbed each of her hands and helped her up. How she could navigate anywhere was a mystery to him; being blind never stopped her from anything. Shrugging, he pushed back his shoulder length jet black hair.
"One of these days I may actually get to eat one of those." Abigail pouted, holding onto his shoulder to let him guide her.
"Oh stop whining." Doug said, rolling his eyes as they walked over to the ladder. He knelt down and let her jump onto his back before he began to descend, "You must prove yourself first, young grasshopper."
She would settle for simply going back over his house tomorrow when he was out and ask his grandmother herself for one. Doug's grandmother was his only surviving relative. His entire family had died in a bus accident when he was only a year old; his mother, father, sister, and almost all of his uncles and aunts. Somehow he came out without a scratch; his grandmother had decided to not go on the trip all together. Now, they only had each other. She guessed he had her too, in a way. Perhaps that's why he was always so protective of her, even when he was two years younger than her.
Walking back to his house, Abigail retrieved her shoes and jacket. She made a mental note to return in the morning for some cookies, said her goodbyes, and vanished into the night. She lived only ten minutes away from Doug, and twenty minutes from town. Popping open her folding cane, she began to lead herself home, quickly becoming engulfed into her own mind, thinking of thoughts beyond comprehension to anyone else.
Abigail found her way to her doorstep. She kneeled down and found the edge of the "Welcome!" mat. Reminding herself to think of a better hiding spot for her key, she unlocked the door, and quickly stepped inside to keep the cold out. It was October, and things had quickly turned from chilly to freezing.
Putting away her jacket in its usual spot, she walked straight for twenty steps, turned left, and took another five paces before reaching her hand out, grabbing the invisible clock. She pushed the giant, apparently red, button. It immediately stated in a clear woman's voice, "One twenty three AM."
Cursing at herself, she traced her steps backwards into the hall, passing by her radio, bookshelf, and armchair on her way out. She then walked back ten steps, steps to the left slightly, and cautiously moved forward until her right foot hit the first step of her staircase. She quickly climbed them, walked five steps forward, and turned into the room on her left. Slipping off her boots, Abigail deposited her clothes into the laundry bin at the very edge of her room. Taking the pajamas folded neatly upon her bed, she dressed, walked into the bathroom across the hall, and followed her usual routine before slipping into bed twenty minutes later.
"You know, there are other ways of attracting men."
"Mmmhhffff…" muttered Abigail, her long dark brown curls covering the pale face that was seemingly glued to the desk, eyes never to open again.
Aimee giggled at the sight of her tiny friend. Her converse just barely touched the ground as she sat at the desk in the library (She was only about 5'3''). It was apparently a sweat pants kind of day for her beloved Abigail, dressed to impress in her grey sweats with holes at the bottom and a matching blue t-shirt to top it off. The snoring just added to the look.
Abigail looked up, her eerie smoky eyes staring in the general direction of Aimee. She had deep blue eyes and straight blonde hair, hourglass shaped body with all the right stuff in all the right places. She was an actress and a singer. Abigail was almost her polar opposite. Aimee beamed when Abigail looked at her.
"Oh hello there sleepy head! Thought you would never wake up!"
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Oh don't be silly! You have to get up, today you're going to help me with my audition for the musical."
"Am I?"
"You promised!"
"Did I?"
"Yes."
Abigail mentally punched herself. If there was one thing she detested more in this world than not having her piano to play, it would be to help Aimee with her singing. It always made her feel jealous of her flawless voice; her own was nothing compared to Aimee's.
"Yeah, whatever." She mumbled
"Yayyyy!" Aimee cried out, "Well, come on, its lunch time." She noted as she glanced at her watch.
"I think you missed a note there." Abigail commented passively, staring off into the distance.
"WHAT? Where?" Aimee cried, snatching the Masquerade song from Abigail's hands and searching it intensely for the line. Abigail wasn't sure why she made her hold it for her, it's not like she could read it.
Simply things like being unable to read pained her beyond belief. Not only being forced to hold a useless object, but the fact that Aimee was in the best acting school around made her overwhelming jealous. She wanted to learn, to go to school. Unfortunately, no music school would take a blind girl. She had so much potential, wanted to do so much more with her life. She wanted to play, to learn to dance, to read with her eyes and not her hands. Life had simply chosen her to suffer.
"Just kidding." Abigail said with a painful laugh, carefully prying the song book from Aimee's clutch. She sighed with relief.
"Don't scare me like that! This is my FAVORITE musical and I want to be Christine SOOOO badly!" she said, clasping her hands together and fluttering her eyes at the thought of it. Abigail looked her the direction of her voice.
"Can you imagine it, Abigail? Me, at the front of the stage, singing Think of Me!" she cried out. Abigail slapped her forehead, waiting for the incoming music.
Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye!
Remember me once in awhile
Please promise me, you'll try!
"Well, look at the time, I better work on… Something. You know, at home. Away." She said quickly before Aimee could come to her senses. Darting out of the room, Abigail grabbed her bag and jacket before sprinting out the door. She lived about fifteen minutes from Aimee, who lived only five minutes from town. A last minute thought crossed her mind as she quickly turned toward the city to get some shopping done.
"Ah, yes, hello Abigail!" said the cheery old man at the register, "I'll be with you in a moment dear!"
Abigail smiled weakly at the manager. She had been coming to the same grocery store for the past year; when she first arrived John immediately noticed her disability and quickly helped her. Now, whenever she would come in she simply walked over to a register and hope he was somewhere nearby.
She listened as he cleared something up with an employee, and walked over to her, "Come this way, dear!" John said with a smile, taking her hand and putting it on his shoulder. They made their way around the store, John pushing a shopping cart as Abigail listed off items she needed.
"Do you know if there are any new books in, John?" Abigail asked hopefully.
"No dear, sorry. I spoke with Alex but he said nothing came in." John said sadly. Abigail had John speak with the local bookshop owners to see if they had any new novels in Braille. She had already read all of the ones in her house at least twice. She thirsted for something different, something exciting. John saw her disappointment and quickly said, "Don't worry Abigail, something will come in soon!"
She smiled, "Thanks, John. Doug will pick me up near the door today."
"Of course!"
They walked back to the register. As John fiddled with the register, Abigail pulled out her wallet to pay. Bills were folded in different ways, each bill having a different fold in them so she could tell which ones they were.
John looked at the screen after processing the food; it said $34.45.
"Twenty-three dollars, forty –five cents." John said confidently.
Abigail handed him over a twenty, folded in half, and a five, the right edge of it folded to the left side. John took the money and handed her back her 'change', the ones already folded in half twice for her.
"Thanks John." Abigail said with a smile, reaching out for the bags. John placed them in her arms and led her to the door, opening up the folding cane for her and handing it to her.
"Not a problem, dear! Have a nice day!"
"You too!"
"What about me?" Doug said with a pout, standing nearby.
"You take care of her now!" John warned as he walked back inside.
"Yeah, Doug. Take care of this would you?" Abigail smirked, holding out the bags.
"You know, I found some more sheet music for you." Doug said, shaking the paper in his hand for her to hear. Abigail grinned widely.
"Oh you shouldn't have! Now you get to read it to me."
Back at home, Abigail walked twenty steps forward, passed the stairs, and walked directly over to her carefully placed piano. Doug followed her, flipping on the unused light switch. The light in the hall didn't even go on.
Doug shook his head, went to the cupboard and grabbed the last light bulb. Abigail began to play the piano as he replaced it. After arranging her groceries in her kitchen as she liked them, Doug walked into the room as her hands danced over the keys, her eyes closed, completely engaged in her song. She had written it herself just after her parents left for the United States for a better life; not having to deal with a blind child.
He felt angry for Abigail. How could her parents simply walk out on her? She had not been born blind; it had actually been her parent's negligence that had caused her disability.
Abigail could sense Doug watching her as she finished the song, "Are you coming?" she asked, teasing.
"Yes ma'am."
Abigail scooted over on the bench to let Doug sit down. He placed the song in front of him and scanned the pages, "Hmmm, I don't know, Abigail. Seems pretty complicated."
She glared, "Oh shut up and just read it."
Doug read off the notes one by one, telling her the pauses and holds. He had learned to read sheet music for this. When he had met her, she had been in the music room at school, crying over the piano.
Doug nervously looked at the girl sitting at the piano. Her shoulders were bent forward, eyes pouring themselves out onto her hands. Unsure of what else to do, he walked over to her and sat down on the bench. The girl jumped in fright, slamming her hands on the keys.
"Who are you?" she asked, afraid. Doug looked at her. She did not look back.
"My name is Doug!" he said with a smile. Her lower lip quivered.
"Abigail."
"Are you okay?"
"I cannot read my song that I need to learn." She said, bursting out crying again. Doug frowned.
"Did you not learn to read them when you learned piano?" Doug asked
"No. I taught myself." She sniffed. She looked in his general direction.
Doug froze. Her eyes. They were glazed over, seemingly dead. It looked as though a deep fog surrounded them. Then, he realized she was blind.
What was he supposed to do? He frowned and scratched his tiny head. Suddenly an idea popped into his head.
"I will read it to you!" he said excitedly
"You know how to read them?" Abigail asked hopefully
"Uh, no. But I can learn for you!"
"You would do that?"
"Of course!"
She had the song memorized within the hour. Abigail smiled to herself and held out a hand to Doug. He gave it a high-five and laughed.
"You're really good at this, Abigail." Doug commented as he got up, grabbing his keys. Among the numerous jiggling keys, a copy of the one to Abigail's house was there, marked with an "A". She was unaware of this, and he planned on keeping it that way.
"Thanks bro." she said laughing, her hands gliding across the keys, experimenting with her newly found song.
Ten minutes after Doug left, Abigail's phone began to ring. Sitting on a small table directly next to the piano, she simply snatched it up and spoke.
"Abigail speaking."
"Abigail!" said a cheery Aimee, "You won't believe this! They're opening the Opera House back up!"
"What? It's been closed since like, forever."
"I know! Apparently they had been secretly renovating it! Its opening tomorrow! Oh Abigail, we HAVE to go see it! PLEASE?"
"Aimee, I can't even see."
"Oh, right. But will you come with me? Maybe you can play on the organ that the phantom played on! OOoooOOooo!"
Abigail frowned. While she did not believe in the Opera Ghost, she did indeed enjoy listening to the music he created when Aimee made her sit through the movie. She sighed.
"Yeah, whatever, I'll go."
She winced as she heard a high-pitched squeal from the other end.
"Oh, I love you Abigail! I'll pick you up at noon tomorrow! Eeee!" the line went dead.
I shrugged and went back to my piano.
Ahhh! Took me so long to decide to finally go with this, so maybe different options. Comment with ideas/thoughts!