Left Behind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
When you love someone, all you can do is wait for them to love you back, right? Or make a move, right? Well, Abigail has waited for so long, she seems to be left behind.

Submitted: October 26, 2014

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Submitted: October 26, 2014

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"Hey Dean, Dean, DEAN!" Abigail shouted, little braids of hair flying as she ran towards him.

"Dean!" Trisha exclaimed, a hand over her heart as if she was surprised to see him.

Dean smiled, perfect white teeth showing. Trisha walked over to him, and he hugged her. Right in front of all the teachers. Right in front of Abigail, who schreeched to a stop.

Abigail pushed her circular glasses up her nose, and sniffled. This time it wasn't her allegires. Her third-grade crush was hugging her worst enemy. She clenched her fists, and walked right to the still hugging couple, and she had intended to hit one of them, but she just couldn't hurt Dean.

Finally they pulled apart, Trisha smiling her I-win-again smile, her annoying, bouncy hair flicking into Abigails' face. Trisha would just not let go of Deans' jacket, and Abigail was seriously considering swatting Trishas' hand away. But what if she accidentaly hit Dean? She couldn't do that. She quietly stormed out of the hallway, and sat down in her next class.

"Ayy, what up Abi?" said one of Deans' "homies," Zane. Abigail and Zane used to be best friends, but when she told him about her huge crush on Dean, he would never stop talking to her, and he became Deans' friend, and when he was threatened by grades dropping, he would threaten to tell Dean about her if she didn't do his homework. Abigail was entirely against it, but she didn't want Dean to know about her, so she went along with it.

"The ceiling, Zane. The ceiling," Abigail replied crossly. She wanted this conversation to end, pronto.

"Aww c'mon Abi!" he blurted, but then whispered, "you saw 'em hugging, didn't you. Ooh, that must've setcha on FI-YA! C'mon, biggest crush hugging worst enemy? Ooh, that's NASTY!"

"Shut up Zane!" she cried. She didn't want the whole class to know about her crush on Dean.

"C'mon Abi, everyone knows about your crush! Too late to talk to 'im now, Trish isn't letting any girl get close to 'im. Especially not you."

"Thanks, Zane," Abigail sai sarcastically as he dropped her head on her desk to hide the tears.

"You're welcome," Zane said smugly, and propped up his feet on his desk, "man I'm so useful."

????????   ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?  ????????

"Abigail Smithson how dare you!" Abigail's mother schreeched.

"Sorry Mom I know I'm not supposed to be late to get home but somebody pushed me and I scraped my knee, so they had to take me to the nurses!" Abigail cried, putting her hands up to block the slap.

Her mother slapped her arms, and pulled down her arms so she could slap her daugher again.

"One for being home so late," she slapped, "and another for trying to defy me!" she slapped again.

Abigail fell to the floor crying, red outlines of a hand on both sides of her face. Her dog, Redd, galloped over, barking exitedly and wagging his tail. He licked her face, the hot, wet tounge stinging her skin, and Abigail pushed herself up from the floor, and walked to the kitchen to make dinner.

????????   ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ????????

Abigail was back in school, putting her backpack in her locker, and walking to her first period, ignoring the sloppy makouts of Trisha and Dean, no matter how much she wanted to kill Trisha.

Walking into her next class, she sat down in her seat, dropping her binder, notebook, pencilbag, and textbook onto her desk, creating a loud thud that drew the attention of her entire class to her. Zane looked at her and smiled, then made a piggy face. When everybody had looked away, she stuck out her tounge at him.

"Now class, we have a new student in our classrom today, his schedule had to be changed because of a . . . private reason," the tacher said, gesturing to a figure near the door, "Dean, you can come in now."

Abigail's heart started pounding, drumming in her ears, her skull, her hands became clammy, and her face was undoubtedly the shade of a ripe tomatoe. All these years, she had wanted him in one of her classes, and finally, he was.

"Er, Dean, sit next to Abigail," her heart skipped a beat, "that's the only spot left open."

"But sir, who's Abigail?" Dean asked, searching the room for a girl that looked like an Abigail, and an empty seat.

Abigail's heart stopped. He doesn't know who I am. She felt like crying. All these years, all that spying, for nothing? But, he would sit next to her, they would converse, maybe he would fall in love wih her, over time.

"Abigail, raise your hand," she did what she was told, only to recieve a look of confusion from Dean before he walked over and sat down.

"My girlfriend hates you," he whispered in her ear, "I shouldn't have to sit next to you."

Abigail's heart stopped. All of the color in her face drained out, and she clenched her fists. She wanted to scream at him, for finding the wrong girl, the Phsycho Queen, the Drama Mama, the Terrible Trisha. She wanted to puch him, but she couldn't, he was Dean, after all.

As she opened her mouth, the room stated shaking. At first, it seemed like an illusion from her anger, but then the desk started wbbling, chemistry bottles crashing onto the floor, the ceiling started to crack, little black lines racing to get to the edge of the ceiling.

One of the poles started to crash down, and students and teachers were screaming, running out of their classrooms, but we were trapped inside, the door was blocked. Dr. H's Table of Science started crashing down, and it came towards Abigail in what seemed like slow motion. Dean jumped out of his seat, but Abigail was frozen in terror.

The wood crashed down on her desk, forcing little splinters of the desk into Abigails legs, and she screamed. Sobbing, she saw blood drip down from her pink skirt. I'm just in seventh grade! she thought, and screamed.

A figure held his hand out to her, as the burner they used in boiling chemicals some how turned itself on, the spilled chemicals catching fire. The river of fire made its way towards her, and the wood around her. The figure grabbed onto her arm.

"Dean! Dean! Dean!" Abigail shouted.

"No, it's Zane," the figure said, and kept pulling.

Abigail screamed, the Table of Science had caught on fire, the flames making its way down to her skin. The heat blasted her in the face, melting the plastic of her glasses. As her arm was pulled by Zane, she screamd again, the pain in her arm and her legs increasing as her skirt caught on fire.

"Abi no!" Zane cried, trying to pull her more.

The firemen crashed into the room with their axes, shouting to the students to get out. Then they saw Zane pulling on Abigail.

"Zane, just leave me, okay? Leave me."

"No I can't do that, you're my best friend, my only friend," Zane said, sobs infecting his speech.

"Go," said a fireman, grabbing onto Zane's shoulder, "we can get her out."

Zane nodded, and looked at Abigail, tears in his eyes as he ran to Dean by the door, and left.

"Girlie, there's no way to get you out withought it being painful," the fireman looked into her eyes, "I'm sorry."

"M-my name's Abigail," Abigail stuttered, watching as the edges of her sight turned black.

"Alright, Abigail. You're a good person, don't ever forget that, okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled, her sight almost completely black.

The fire reached her skin, burning, leaving crisp, black flesh where pink, chubby thighs once were. Abigail screamed once more, and then the world went black. I'm a good person, she thought as she watched her body burn, and saw the tears of the fireman as he lifted her dead body onto a stretcher, and left the classroom. She saw the tears of Zane, her mom crying, her dog getting hit by a car, and the funeral for them both. She saw what happens when someone gets left behind.


© Copyright 2019 Evangelina Samuell. All rights reserved.

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