Abigail Potter and the Wish of Doom

Abigail awoke the next morning to find her bedroom filled with sunlight from the south window of her room. She groaned, for it was only 8:00, and was about to roll over when she remembered: she was 11 today! She hoped out of bed and ran down stairs and saw Moniqué, fully dressed in a black dress, fixing a broach around her neck. "Oh no," said Abigail quietly, but not quietly enough. Moniqué turned to look at her.

"There you are, you lazy girl," she said. "Sleeping all this time, were you, I suppose? Well, no matter. Come get dressed in your Sunday clothes, and make haste! I want to be there when they open!"

Abigail had feared this situation the second she saw the broach on Moniqué's neck. How could she have been so stupid! It was the third Sunday of the month, which meant today Moniqué would drag Abigail along to the church cemetery to visit the graves of Roand Kathy. There, Abigail would stand, trying to look mournful, while Moniqué poured her heart out to the stone plaque in the ground. On their last visit, Abigail had even heard Moniqué talking to her parents' grave. Then they would come home, and Moniqué would force Abigail to spend the day with her, watching black and white Italian soap operas (Moniqué was born in Italy) while Moniqué continued to cry; they would have nothing to eat until dinner, which would be overcooked broccoli and undercooked peas; it never varied.

"No way," said Abigail firmly, and Moniqué turned to her.

"Are you still here you lazy wrench? Get upstairs, NOW!"

"I said no," replied Abigail just as firmly. "Today's my birthday, I shall not spend the day listening to you cry and talk to dead people, while I starve on extremely poorly prepared food!" she yelled. She had never vented to Moniqué like this before, and it late when she realized she would have to pay. Moniqué struck her hard on the side of her face with so much force that Abigail was sent back into the stairs and fell.

"Never speak to me like that again, or take the name of your caring cousin and wife, who raised you, again in vain, you ungrateful little brat. Now, go upstairs and get dressed. We're leaving in ten minutes time." Said Moniqué calmly. Abigail turned and went upstairs, her cheek stinging and throbbing horribly, but she made no noise of pain till she entered her room. There, all she let out was a little whimper as she touched her hand to her face. She turned and stared at herself in her full-length mirror. Her dark brown hair was slightly matted and knotted from sleep, her right cheek appeared to have way too much blush on it, and there was about three inches of wrist and ankle showing out of her pajamas. Worst of all, she could see her eyes, the soft color of dark, polished wood, brimming with tears. She stared at herself as she started to cry.

"No wonder I'm all alone," she whispered, watching a single tear fall down her bright red cheek.

~*~

About an hour later, Abigail stood silently with Moniqué at the churchyard, where Roger and Kathy were buried. Moniqué had started crying already and Abigail was becoming extremely bored. I wonder, she thought to herself, If Moniqué would notice if I slipped away for a moment. Deciding she wouldn't, Abigail quietly backed away, tagging along a family on their way to visit some unknown person. She walked to the far edges of the churchyard, where there were fewer people and more weeds. She was all alone except for a lone man at the furthest grave in the yard, underneath a large, dead willow tree, as though, if the tree was alive, it would be concealing the grave. Abigail flopped underneath an oak tree and was staring at the man when suddenly he turned around and looked at her. She tried to advert her eyes but he had somehow locked them into staring at each other. He nodded to her, and she did the same, then finally turned her eyes away. Something in her mind clicked; that man was so familiar.... and yet, such a stranger. She turned around to get a better look at the man, but he had vanished. Curiosity provoked her, and she went over to the grave the man had been at.

It was the oldest looking grave Abigail had seen here yet, but one look at the dates of the people buried there and she knew, it was only because it was unattended. All that she could make out were the letter and t spaced far apart in the second line. Two sets of dates were there: 1980-2013 and 1981-2013. "Poor people," said Abigail quietly. "Died together, I suppose." Abigail felt a chilly breeze and looked up. With a gasp, she stumbled backwards. She had seen a dark figure on the other side of the iron fence, but it had vanished quicker than the man had. Scared, and figuring this grave to he haunted, Abigail quickly went back to Moniqué, who was still crying over her parents. "Moniqué, I - " Abigail stopped abruptly. She had been about to tell Moniqué of the man and the figure when she spied the man over Moniqué's shoulder. She gasped again. As much as she hated Moniqué, she didn't want the man to hurt her. Suddenly, the man caught Abigail's eye again and, with a blink, he was gone. Moniqué never seemed to notice he was there.

~*~

To Abigail's relief, Moniqué did not make her go through the routine of watching soaps. In fact, when they returned home, she didn't even seem to acknowledge Abigail at all. In some ways, this was an improvement. She changed into some rugged clothes, and headed outside into the woods ocked the sunset.

After walking about a mile, she came to a small clearing in the woods. A circle of large rocks was there; some children that had once lived here had probably placed them there. Abigail sat down on one and relaxed. This was her special spot, her place to go when life got too tough or when Moniqué became unbearable. She closed her eyes and was suddenly hit with such a storm of memories and emotions that she slid of the rock in surprise, though she didn't know it.

SNAP! She could see a man's face, with midnight black hair and glasses with bright emerald eyes behind them. SNAP! She was at the foot of an amazingly high marble staircase. SNAP! She was playing with a bunch of children. SNAP! A boy's face, laughing. SNAP! A girls face, smiling broader than Abigail had ever seen. But then, SNAP! She was running through a house. SNAP! A sad looking man was talking to her. SNAP! A house was fading away in the distance, and Abigail felt a pang of sadness, and then, SNAP! The shadows of two people disappeared, as if they were vapor.

Abigail wrenched open her eyes. There were leaves and dirt stuck all over her, a she was holding her head; she had an intense headache. "SURPRISE!" shouted a crowd of voices from behind her. Abigail spun around, surprised like she should have been. Four kids were standing behind her, with presents and a Tupperware flled with brownies, which Abigail suspected might not have been fresh. She studied the kids carefully.

"Maria?" she questioned to the Hispanic girl in front of her. "And Brian and Eddie and Pamela? What the heck are you guys doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you had the proper birthday party. Now let's dig in!" said Eddie, uncovering the brownies.

~*~

"No, really - come on guys, I should go now, it's late, no, I'm serious, I enjoyed myself, thank you for everything!" Abigail finally left her party that the kids she had saved from being beaten up had thrown for her. Of course, that meant she was the one getting into the fights, but it was a small price to pay to make sure that these kids were unharmed. She was walking in the dusk back to her home when she heard something crack under her foot. She stopped, and picked up a CD case, with a CD inside. There was no name on the cover, nor little booklet inside, and yet, Abigail felt a sudden surge of desire to listen to this CD. She held it tightly and continued her way in the woods

~*~

When Abigail got home, she didn't even acknowledge Moniqué in the kitchen, and went straight up into her room to listen to her newfound CD. Once there she hurriedly put it into her CD player and turned it on. Her boom box started up, and played the first song. It was unlike anything Abigail had ever heard before. It seemed as though the artist was meant to make music for Abigail and Abigail alone. Abigail immediately began dancing, and didn't stop for another three hours. Then, exhaustion took over her, and she fell backwards onto her bed, asleep before she hit the pillow.