Dreaming of Far Away

A small, stuffed pony was Abby’s only relief as her parents began arguing again. Their voices bounced from the walls, increasing in volume as one tried to drown out the other. Seven year old Abby hid in her room, seeking shelter in the darkness where she could be invisible with her only friend, the stuffed pony her mother had bought her last year. Even at her young age, Abby understood how strange it was for her to seek help in the darkness when other children in her class fled from it. She had learned her drunken father could not see her if she stayed still with all the lights out, as long as she didn’t answer his enraged calls. 

Her mother was brave, always standing up to him, throwing out the drinks which caused his anger and even locking him out of the house. She was a hero. A violent shaking of the walls was the signal to relax, her father had stormed out of the house and into the night, taking the car to some unknown destination. Maybe he wouldn’t come back this time and the shattered family of Abby and her mother could rest easy and begin anew. It was something they both hoped for each time. He always came back.

Abby clutched the pony to her chest, inching from her darkened room to see her mother sliding onto the couch, several crumpled papers in hand. A fresh bruise was already forming across her cheek. At first, Abby wasn't noticed by her mother, but as the woman looked up, she smiled, holding a hand out to the girl. 

“He’s gone for good this time, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Mommy has friends who can hurt him back.” 

The girl rushed into her mother’s arms, squishing the pony between them as she hugged with all her strength. “Are we going away now?” Abby whispered, afraid to raise her voice so soon after her father had left. “To somewhere like in your magazines?”

Abby knew it was her mother’s fondest dream to visit the places in her magazines, cities with ancient buildings and beautiful designs. 

Her mother smiled, shaking her head with a soft chuckle, rubbing a hand over Abby’s back. “We are going away," she promised. “But not to those places. Maybe one day.” 

At that moment, Abby knew her mother needed something to smile about. Kissing her cheek, avoiding the bruise, the girl slipped from her mothers arms back to her bedroom. She wanted to do something for her mother, something that would make her really smile. 

****

The plan was simple, but a little bit difficult for her to carry out. An old, abandoned house in the forest behind the traitor where Abby and her mother lived was going to be the gateway to a wonderful vacation. For several days while her mother was at work, Abby came home from school and waited until the babysitter was asleep or distracted. Carrying armloads of her mother's magazines, she cut out pictures of exotic locations, glueing and taping the pictures across each room of the house. 

Every room was a different location. Paris was the living room, China a bedroom, all across the world from room to room. Abby worked hard, her never ending energy sending her running across the creaking floorboards as she tried to have the house ready by her mother's birthday. 

Adding her own imagination to the mix, Abby drew herself and her mother standing among the wonders as little stick figures with defining characteristics under puffy clouds, and most importantly, smiling. Once Abby was satisfied with her creation, she waited until her mother's birthday only one day later. 

“We’re going on a trip,” her mother told her that morning. “Nice men will be helping us move to a new life where your father can’t hurt either of us anymore. We’ll be safe. You’ll go to a new school, have new friends, it will be great.”

Her mother was already smiling, so happy at the prospect of starting over. Abby threw her arms around the woman's neck, hugging her tightly. “I have a surprise for you,” Abby told her excitedly. “Before we leave, you have to see it. It’s your birthday present!” 

“Alright, but we have to be quick. They will be here soon.” Her mother squeezed her hand as Abby lead her through the house, out the back door, and along a path into the woods. 

The abandoned house had been there for as long as Abby could remember. She'd played house in it many times before, using it as her own private sanctuary. It was old, parts of it no longer even, with vines growing along the walls. Her mother slowed as they approached,  seeing the structural instability her daughter did not. 

Abby was insistent, excited to show her work, to give her mother the vacation she deserved. In the end, her mother gave in, smiling as they stepped through the leaning doorframe and into Paris. She heard her mother gasp, Abby allowing her grin to widen as she skipped into the room, arms thrown out as she spun. 

“This is Paris!” she announced in a terrible french accent. She led her mother around the room, pointing out various landmarks before they moved into the next room. Abby became the tour guide, showing off all the wonderful places around the world, always having some unusual fact she’d read about them. In the very back of the house, Abby told her mother to close her eyes for the last room. 

Pushing the door open, Abby carefully led her mother into the room, making sure the windows were open so the sun would light up all the colorful pictures. 

“Okay,” she whispered. “You can look now, mommy.”

Waiting for her mother's reaction, the little girl smiled, pointing to several of the pictures. “This is heaven,” she announced. “We’ll both be there one day, because we don't need money to go there. Pastor James told me so.” 

Abby grinned, skipping to the center of the room as she began to point out several of the pictures, announcing what they where and the wonderful times they would both have in heaven together and with her grandparents who were already there. 

As she moved, Abby did not notice the creak in the floorboards. The sound had always been there in this house. This was a different sound, and it made Abby pause, looking to the floor. Rotted boards no longer supported her weight, giving way beneath her. Abby gasped, her mother’s shocked face the last she saw as she disappeared into the darkness under the house. 

She didn’t feel the impact, or the board which cut into her back. Her mother’s face appeared in the hole of light above, mouth moving as the woman screamed her daughter’s name. Abby didn’t hear it. Smiling to her mother’s terrified face, the girl weakly nodded once. 

“Heaven really is beautiful,” she whispered. “It’s better than the pictures.” 

Reviews

[LOfCharlemagne]

This is really good! I love this story. You did a beautiful job of portraying emotion and how life can be seen through troubled times. Its really well done :)

[Silver Hawke]

Thank you so much for your review! I've been put down by many people about this one because of the ending, so it's good to see someone enjoyed it.

[LOfCharlemagne]

It is really good, do not let people put you down. Sure it is a little different, but it is still good! Every piece is unique and good in it's own way. It is sad, but thats part of what makes your story truly yours.