1. "I'm still here"
Echoes vibrating against the narrow tunnel, the echoes of Abbie’s scream, the scream of pain and fear, loud and growing smaller. Her face beaten and legs twisted in an odd manner, despite the blood and the pain she lunges forward to escape from its grasp. Its grasp that hinged on her body causing her to lose her strength. Sweat trickled down her feared stoned face. Closing her eyes trying to calm down her anxiety and fear, taking deep breaths but only hear those horrifying screeches echoing her name. “Stop, stop! Please stop!" yelling Abbie to herself. But kept her voice silent locking those voices that are screaming war inside of her. Manifesting the moment and creating chaos. Abbie slid down sobbing silently as blood continued its dance down her body. “They don’t hear me, now they can’t hear me no more." She told herself. “Yes, you will fall asleep forever dear." A voiced called out as Abbie eyes grew wider. Fear written all over her face. Slash of death came upon her fate.
“A dead woman named Abbie Parlin was found under the sewers, her string of life ended there. She was seventeen at the time, who was enrolled in Mary Fulton High School, a straight A student. She was reported dead at 3:50 a.m., her wounds are strange, not a human doing and seems the liking of some type of wolves or like the legend says creatures, monsters, alienated."
The news played on the old 1960’s T.V that her grandmother still had kept. The screen buzzing and static took its place. “Oh damn old television, cheap ass T.V. “She threw her remote controller onto the stained carpet full of old wine and whiskey. The odor lingered inside of her nose, causing her to cringe. The kettle sang its deafening song. “Oh crap, Ooooo! My damn back! “Oh F my life, Jebus." She clutched onto her partner Cane making her way towards the kitchen, and in the corner of her eyes a girl appeared from the corner of the room dressed in old ripped snow boots, her face as white as snow that the blood has tattooed on her face. Her mouth dried, the moisture of her lips has gone. Hallow sucked in beady black eyes that glared at Grandma Berna. She tried to ignore and go on enjoying her morning tea, that use to be a bottle of jack.
“I need to get the fuck out of here." Licking her lips and grabbing her tea going on the front porch with her thin gown she had slept last night. Sitting there sipping her tea while the cold gusting winter wind ripping her skin leaving her nose red and her wrinkled hands chapped.
“Berna, where’s your coat?" called out a voice.
“Oh, damn who cares about my jacket, I ain’t going back in there." replied Berna.
He smirked and made his way towards her. He had brown auburn hair; a stubble facial hair that has been freshly shaved, his wide charming grin, hazel eyes and white straight teeth that can light up anyone’s mood.
“Berna, I’ll go get it for you then." Berna turned and eyed the room with caution.
“No, wait till it’s clear." He tilted his head in confusion.
“Um…so you just want to wait?" She nodded.
“Thomas, I’ll be fine."
Thomas was Berna’s best friend who had always helped her from day one when he first arrived in Hiknut. He was twelve at that time when he had first seen her fall onto the road coated in ice. He gave a smile and dropped his luggage to help her up. “You okay ma'm? He lent his hands to her, but she just looked at him with disgust. His eyes were bruised and his hair with natural curls. He smelled of alcohol and smoke. Berna slapped his hands away from her. “Go away kid, I don’t need your help. He seemed hurt but listened and nodded, walking away. Berna turned to look as his father came up to him, on his right hand was a bottle of beer and his eyes half way closed spouting and spitting on Thomas’s face as Thomas wince and nod. She couldn’t hear what they were saying.
But knew exactly what was going on. Berna made her way there, angry and disgusted with the man.
“Hey you shit! You better not lay a hand on that boy!" shouted Berna with fierce, he turned and stifled out a sarcastic life.
“Me? You Hag, did you call me shit? Don't tell me what I can't do with my son!" His fist lunging towards her, hitting her on the jaw making her collapse onto the ground as Thomas stared, and in an instant he reacted.
“DAD! Why did you hit her?" His gaze of fervid of anger, his father's eyes brewing a storm, Thomas knew what was coming next, but in the least he didn't care. “You… you protect this crazy woman, who called your father shit?" Before Thomas could have said anything, he was on the ground, his face bruising. Soon later his father was sent to jail for abusing his child.
Since then Thomas came to her house every day after school, helping her doing the laundry, mowing the lawn, and most of all accompanying her.
"Berna, its cold and you're still wearing your nightgown, can I at least give you a blanket?"
"Oh shut it, I'm an old gangster, I need no blanket. This isn't the worst I felt." Berna gave a laugh and smiled sipping more of her tea. Thomas shuffled his feet in the snow creating a hole. "Seriously?" he asked again. "Boy, why are you so worried? I'm not dying anytime soon." Thomas looked towards her and walked up to her porch to give a good look.
"You know I'm worried for you," Berna couldn't help but smile.
"Oh geez Thomas, go take me to your house then." without a word Thomas took her. As Berna still felt those cold hallow eyes digging her back, shouting "I'm still here."
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