Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #999940
You'd be stressed if your life was full of worries. But Abby can escape.
Written quite a while back. Teen fiction, may be a little confusing at the end.
I lie on my back, feeling gentle gusts of air from the fan blow over me. I'm calm on the outside, but inside of me I'm hysterical, shrieking and pacing. Why do I always make the wrong decision? I regret everything I did and said, today and yesterday. Everything came out sounding awkward, I wish I had just glued my mouth together.
Every night, I go through the same routine- regrets, hopes, and self-hatred. It's over stupid things too, not over the important bad stuff like my bad grades or over my dad. Eventually, I end up wishing I could move to another country and start all over. I glance at my alarm clock. In the darkness I could barely make out the time: 1:40. I push the blanket away from me and turn over onto my back. Sleep, sleep, I think. Calm, calm.
It's no use. My stomach growls, and I wonder if I could sneak downstairs for something to eat. No use, Bella, our dog, would probably start yapping the moment she saw me. I smile, thinking of her. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. I remember the day we rescued her. My stomach continues to complain. What to do? I sigh, and close my eyes. I stay still, very still. Then I wish I could fall asleep and never wake up. I sleep instantly. There's this dream...about a fairy...
* * *
"Good morning, Abby! Sleep well?" I groan and turn over.
"Mom...don't wanna get up!"
"You have to come to church with me, Abby, it's Sunday!" She pulled the sheets off of me.
“Nooo…” I open my eyes. She stands over me in her purple dress, frowning down at me.
“Abby, you shouldn’t leave the fan on all night! It wastes energy.” Maybe it does, but I can’t stand not having air conditioning at night. “Anyway, you have to be dressed and ready to go in an hour.”
“What if I don’t wanna go?” I whine. “Dad never makes me go!” She purses her lips and frowns even more. This always happens whenever I mention my father.
“That’s one of the reasons I divorced him.” She leaves, and I know I’d be in major trouble if I didn’t get ready. I change quickly and check my e-mail online.
"Are you ready yet?" I hear her yell from downstairs.
"No!" I shout back, just starting to tame my tangled red hair.
"Well hurry up!" Fifteen minutes later, we're in the car, heading towards salvation and God- or, in my case, excruciating boredom.
* * *
Now, don't think I hate religion. I really don't. I believe in God. I just really don't think he wants me to suck up to him every week. I mean, I was put on this earth for a purpose- right now, I have to find it. With the time I pray each Sunday, I could've invented a cure for cancer or something (more likely watch TV). Sometimes I wish I could live with my dad all the time, instead of only seeing him on holidays. That's not what God intended either. I know I was meant to be with both.
After services, and the monthly lunch, a bunch of old women surround me. The "church ladies". You know, the ones who have daily talks with God and who love to see a cute little girl, all dressed up. My, look how tall I am! Luckily, I have a flute practice to save me.
We drive to the music store, Mom playing her favorite music- jazz. Yuck.
"What did you think about the sermon?" she asks, keeping her eyes on the road.
"Um, it was...good," I mumble, flipping through my new music book. I didn't really pay attention to the sermons. Mom smiles and goes on and on about the pastor's wisdom. I try to ignore her. Closing my eyes, I lean onto the seat. I am soooo tired- falling asleep late every night does that to you. Mom still doesn't notice. The music and mom's voice drones softly on...
* * *
"Abby! Abby, wake up, we're here!" I open my eyes slowly. Where was I? Oh yeah. Flute lesson. We get out of the car and wait for my teacher, Mr. Aarons, to finish with his other students. When he's finally ready, I begin another fun filled lesson. Yeah, right.
"So, Abby! Did you practice the exercises I gave you last week?" His smile is worn, I can tell he's sick of teaching all morning.
"Of course," I lie. Well, it isn't a complete lie. I did practice. Once or twice. I love the flute, but I really hate practicing. When I play something well, it's incredible...but I just don't have time.
"So lets hear them!" He settles back into a chair and drinks from his water bottle. I set my flute and music up, take a deep breath, and begin. It sounds awful. Have you ever heard screeching nails on a black board? This was about an octave higher.
Mr. Aarons flinches, and puts on another fake smile when I finish.
"The high notes are coming out a little squeaky, right?" he says in a bright and cheerful voice.
"Oh, I guess," I respond. "Maybe just a tad..." I can't tell whether he notices the sarcasm in my voice. He sighs, and puts on a serious teacher face. Uh, oh. Lecture coming up.
"Now, Abby." I pretend to listen. "Playing an instrument is difficult work. You need to practice anything if you want to succeed..."
The lesson goes on for an eternity, for me and I bet for the teacher too. Why are we here, I want to scream. Both of us hate this! Finally, the torment ends.
I walk out of the room and Mr. Aarons follows me. I freeze, and look back. What if he tells my mother how awful I am? How he's going to tell all the other flute teachers I suck? How I'm a disgrace? Mom will hate me forever! I don't care about the music but I can't have Mom mad! I watch him. I know he hates me. He goes over to Mom, but only to say she needs to remind me to practice more. What a relief.
* * *
When we're home, I grab some cookies from the fridge. I can her my mother tut-tutting behind me.
"You know you need to watch your weight," she reminds me. I shrug and continue eating. But then I start to think- what if everyone at school thinks I'm fat? What if they make fun of my behind my back? What if my friends don't really like me and they're just sorry for me? I'm already fat enough... Bella starts to beg, and I throw them to her when Mom's not looking.
* * *
It's night again. Another miserable day. What I wouldn't do to go away from all of this. It seems the universe is designed to make me miserable. I listen for my mother coming up the stairs. She just finished arguing with dad over the phone. Who will go to parent teacher confrence this time? The teachers are all out to get me, anyway.
"That's ridiculous," I whisper. "Why is am I so paranoid?" I turn over and turn on the light. I look over the book-case by my bed, and decide on A Tree Grows In Brooklyn. What would the church say about this? I don't care. When I read, I'm in another world. For hours, I immerse myself in the story. Now, I am zen. Turning off the light I
* * *
I open my eyes. Everything is right. I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. I look down, and to my surprise, I am! I laugh, and look around. Somewhere there was a party. And I knew I was invited. I'm suddenly full of energy, and black wings sprout on my feet. Time to fly! I fly over a large moat into the castle. Everyone's waiting for me! The best music I've ever heard in my life is playing. Maybe this is heaven, I think, and then remember I'm just asleep. If I move a little, I can feel the sheets next to me, and the pillow on my head. This is just a dream, I remind myself. There is no other way that such random things would happen just to please me, or that I would know everything. My mind is clouded though, the way it always is in dreams...
No...No...I'll stay here. I head to a party, where they're all waiting for me. "I won't wake up yet..." I think She nods her head.
"That was exactly what you wanted." She smiles and vanishes, leaving me to enjoy my dream.
Mrs. Jaclyn Henderson stared into her daughters closed eyes. They were in a hospital.
"Why don't you wake up?" she cried. "Abby, Abby, what is wrong with you?" A doctor and nurse approached her.
"She's in a coma, ma’m," he said quietly. "We're not exactly sure what happened, but some of our best doctors are doing research right now." The nurse tried to comfort her, but she just pulled away.
"Will she ever wake up?" she asked, her face a pale, expressionless mask.
"All we can do is hope," replied the doctor.
* * *
That night, Jaclyn had only one thought, only one wish.
"I want her to get better," she moaned, crying. When she finally got to sleep, her wish was heard, but couldn't be answered. Because Abby had gotten what she wanted.
"But I don't understand..." she was saying in her sleep.
Her fairy, the one that lived inside, tried to comfort her.
"She made her wish...she's somewhere else.. she Escaped."