Disclaimer: I do not own the concept of fairytales; neither do I own the fairytale this is based on. WHICH NO ONE HAS GUESSED! MWAHAHAHAHAAH
A/N: Thank you for all the lovely reviews! I love you guys!
Chapter 3
I draw away from Jeremy to catch my breath. He looks back at me, a slightly surprised look on his face. There is a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He reaches out and runs a hand through my hair. He draws nearer, and I close my eyes.
"Abigail." My eyes flick open and I spin around. Informer alert! Informer alert!
"D…dad." I move further away from Jeremy. He has a guilty look on his face.
"Mr. Grant…" He stammers.
Dad ignores him.
"Abigail." He says again. I walk slowly and hesitantly towards him. "We are going home now." I move away without protest. Jeremy calls out to me, and I chance a glance back at him once. He is still standing there in the rain. Sopping wet.
I make no noise, and I don't cry out as Dad begins to hit me. His yells penetrate my ears, but don't make it to my brain. I can guess what he is saying anyway. Probably something along the lines of: "You swearword swearword! I brought you up and you swearword decide to go off with a swearword boy like a swearword swearword!"
And so on.
He catches me off-guard, and this blow knocks me to the ground. He kicks me viciously as I cower there – too afraid to move; too afraid to get up.
He yells some more, and brandishes his pocketknife at me. Seriously, those things should be banned. I can hear his mates yelling for him drunkenly outside. Go…please go… I implore.
I can see him losing interest in me. With a few more half-hearted kicks and slaps he turns and leaves. I lie on the ground for a while, then struggle to my feet.
Tissues in the kitchen… As I walk past the mirror, I refuse to look. I know what I will see anyway. A stranger. A complete and utter stranger.
I won't look. I won't look.
I look.
Transfixed, I stare at my reflection. The face is bruised and battered. Instead of looking like a tragic heroine (I wish) I look like a villain.
I look away.
I know what I must do. I rush to my room, and grab a knapsack. I stuff a couple of items in it, then rush out the door. I cannot stay any longer. I've stayed my time.
It's time to move on.
I look down the long grey street. I've been here once… before Mother died. I push those thoughts away.
I think it's this one. I stare at it. It looks exactly how I remembered it. A cheery normal looking house… a dog jumping by the fence, trying to get over…
I walk tentatively up the path and knock on the door. After a while, it opens. I stand there staring at her.
She is exactly what she was all those years ago. Her long auburn hair is braided in one long braid down her back and her clear grey eyes search my own. Finally she seems to accept what she sees and reaches her hand out to me.
"Abby?" She asks incredulously. I picture what she is seeing.
A skinny teenager with long dark blonde hair standing outside her door. The girl's grey eyes are dark and possibly shifty. The girl is bruised and bloodied. She says not a single word.
Mm… a pretty scary picture. No wonder she's incredulous.
"Lucy." I reply. Lucy's face lights up.
"Abby!" She pulls me to her in a warm hug. "Abby!" Her husband, Chris, hurries to the door.
"Who's that, honey?"
Honey. The word hits me hard. Almost as hard as Dad did. Dad used to call Mother honey. Before he lost his job. Before he started drinking. Before…
I pull away. I can see Chris standing in the dim light of the hallway.
"Hi Chris." I say. His jaw drops.
"Abby!"
"It's me." I smile wanly. Lucy pulls me into the light to examine my face.
"Dad did this, didn't he?" She demands to know. I shrug.
"Nothing much you can do about it… except let me stay with you?"
Lucy opens her mouth to answer, then shuts it again. She glances over at Chris. Of course. It's not just her house, the way it was before she got married. It's Chris' too. And the children's. My nieces and nephews. I can't wait to see them again… just not like this.
"Of course." Chris answers. We have always gotten along, Chris and I. "Welcome to my family, Abby,"
I smile, and impulsively hug him.
"Thank you." I whisper. "Thank you."
A/N: Virtual chocolate pudding to anyone who reviews?
