Abigail was ready when Ric came to collect her for the pageant and if his reaction was any indication, her gown choice had been correct. He missed the handle for the car door, he tripped going around to get in his side. Abi bit her lip, careful of the dark wine colored lipstick she'd chosen at the insistence of the woman at the beauty counter.
The dress was lace, in its entirety, black with the floral aspects created out of golden and silver threads. To keep the wearer's modesty, a short black skirt and a deep cleavage enhancing bustier was built in. Coupled with black lace heels, with red soles that were decadent and almost scary to wear, a black clutch and pair of dripping black stone earrings and a matching ring, Abigail thought she made a very different sight than her usual one.
Her hair, after a long contemplation of how to wear it, she'd chosen to go to a local beauty parlor and listened as the stylist had alternatively complimented and lamented her locks. Now they were twisted and coiled into a style that Sallie would envy, with tendrils teasing her shoulders. Her makeup was darker and more dramatic, another concession she'd been talked into by the ladies at the salon. All in all, she couldn't truly complain. Not while Ric was having difficulty forming words to make casual conversation.
"You look very nice as well," she offered, and he did. He was wearing a suit, his scruff was tidier, and his hair was fluffy, but almost tame.
The Lockwoods had moved house, as many families had over the years. When they arrived, Ric offered to grab them drinks and Abi nodded her assent while wandering around the grounds populated with well dressed people, mostly young, but Carol Lockwood managed to find her, eyeing her dress with the critical look of the moneyed. Finding no fault beyond, perhaps, the lace and the raciness of it, their mingling took no longer than necessary, and Abi moved on, meandering along the paths, until she did something she seemed destined to forever do.
Hearing his voice, not Damon's but HIS, that chilling, haunting voice seemed to beckon her forward like it had so very long ago. She was surprised that the heels, so high and spiked, the dress, so long and wispy, nothing seemed to alert him or stop her progress toward him.
He was standing along a tree lined street, making Abigail wonder just how far she'd walked. With him was a young woman, dressed in casual clothing, while Stefan was clearly dressed for the pageant. He was speaking, the words didn't matter, because all Abigail could hear were the ones he'd said when she left her room in the Salvatore mansion all those years before, it was the same tone, the same soft seduction.
"Abigail," it whispered, her feet stepping closer even as her heart pounded hard enough to leave her body behind. "Abigail, aren't you going to come say 'hello'?"
She didn't see them come, the other three. Damon, Elena, and the third, a young woman she would learn was Bonnie Bennett later. She didn't see them because when he bit into the girl's throat, Amber was her name, his eyes were on her. As he drank from the girl, Stefan Salvatore watched Abigail Morgan and she could see it, the obsession growing with every pull of the girl's blood.
"Abigail?" She was back at the pageant, a drink in her hand while a voice started announcing contestants. Ric was standing next to her, another woman she'd never met beside him, a proprietary hand on his arm. That was new. "Abi, are you alright?"
She blinked, considering the question as the next name was announced. "Elena Gilbert -" and she looked up, and the decision seemed as simple this time as it was - how had Pearl said it? Once upon a time. She had to leave Mystic Falls. She watched as Elena and Damon met at the foot of the staircase, as they took their spot on the dancefloor, and as the waltz began, as their gazes were locked, as their hands hovered inches apart, she had to wonder - Had they ever looked as intimate as that? As in love?
Before Abigail left the Lockwoods', she sought out one person, one person alone. A person she'd never spoken to, a person she'd never met.
"Bonnie?" The young woman tensed, but didn't run away, so that was something. "Could I speak to you for a moment?" There was a resemblance, around the eyes, Abi thought. Not much, but slight, that reminded her of Emily.
Bonnie nodded and moved to a small nook where they could speak somewhat privately. She tried to smile, but it wasn't easy. "Caroline told me she met you," she offered, and Abi nodded. "Real life sleeping beauty."
Abi shook her head. "Yes, well, mostly just a very slow learner." She bit her lip, not incredibly sure how to ask for a favor of a complete stranger, but needing it. "I hate to ask," she sighed, thinking about the fevered look on Stefan's face, then the heartache she felt when she saw how Damon looked at Elena. "I want to leave Mystic Falls. To find my family."
Bonnie's eyes narrowed. "Your family's dead." Her head tilted. "Isn't it?"