And In A Flash

Your head spins as you finally awaken to the soft voice of a woman talking to herself. You turn your head and slowly open your eyes, still feeling the pounding in your skull from being tossed down the steps. The low light of the room manages to barely illuminate a thin looking woman in a rocking chair. You feel her eyes set on you and you instinctively tense up, fearing the worst.

"Oh thank goodness you woke up...I was almost certain you were a goner..." She says above a whisper. Her voice strikes a familiar chord and your eye widen a fraction.

"A-Abigail?" You croak and attempt to prop yourself up, but instantly feel the room begin to spin. A groan escapes your lips and a bout of nausea sets in.

"Please, don't try and force yourself dear." Abigail paces over to you and places a warm rag on your forehead.

"How did...you get here?" The warmth from the rag quickly soothes your throbbing headache.

"I've been workin' here for the past...four years...Madam Yvette's last servant passed on after a terrible case of pneumonia..." The woman lowers her head and sighs, "and all this work has really taken a toll..." she lights a nearby lantern to reveal a worn face. Her once flawless ebony hair is now streaked with silver, her hands are scarred from countless beatings, and her eyes seem duller than they should. You feel your heart drop.

"Abigail--"

"Could you please call me 'Abby'?" She hesitantly interrupts.

"Sure, Abby, I hate to be selfish but...what will become of me?" You twist your fingers in the blanket.

"Well...Madam Yvette made it clear she doesn't want to see you ever again...She told me I could do with you what I may...So I think I'll have you run out into town and be my errand girl. After all, the merchants won't give you dirty looks for trying to shop alone. Once you're all better of course."

You smile and breathe a long sigh of relief, "Thank you...Abby." Your eyes flutter shut as exhaustion washes over you. Abigail chuckles softly and adjusts your blanket before patting your head and allowing you to fall back asleep.

A week passes before you feel right enough to get out of bed. Your head has finally stopped spinning every time you sit up, and you can finally hold down a full meal without feeling nauseous. You shuffle off of the bed and stretch your aching legs. Oh how good it feels to be able to stand again!

"Oh great! You're up and about!" Abigail smiles as she returns from the kitchen with a tray of food. You open your mouth to speak, but the mere scent of the delightful meal has you stunned silent. Your friend places the tray down on a nearby table and motions for you to come and eat.

You quickly thank her for the food and for her kindness before digging in. Oh it tastes so good! The biscuit is soft and warm, the chicken is seasoned expertly, and the vegetables are steamed just enough. It reminds you of your mother's cooking back home.

" Momma...Pa...Oh I hope everyone is alright... " A stray tear rolls down your cheek as you think about your family and the struggle they must be enduring.

"(Name)? What's wrong dear?" Abigail looks at you with utter concern.

"I...I just...I miss my family. I never got to talk to them once...And the last I've heard from them...everything was going to Hell. Crops are bad, pa is sick..." A sob escapes your lips and you bury your face in your hands, "Sorry I just...I wish I could go and help them..."

You feel Abigail pull you in for a long hug as she whispers soft comforting words, "Dear, in a way...you are helping them. If you found some way back they would only have another mouth to struggle to feed. At least here you're safe with a roof over your head and food in your belly."

Her words sting, but hold the honest truth.

"Yeah...But I would like to try and write to them...Momma must be worried sick." You hiccup as the sobbing subsides.

The dark-skinned servant hums in thought for a moment before releasing you from her hold and looks at you, "Perhaps you can...I know! When the milkman comes around, I'll give him your letter. He can take it to the post for you! He does owe me a favour."

"Re-really? Oh thank you so much!" You clap your hands together.

"But just so you know, your family won't be able to write back. After all, if a letter from them appeared in the school's mailbox...well Madam Yvette won't be too happy." She clarifies. Your shoulders drop a little, but it's understandable. Still, just being able to send letters is good enough.

"Well, now that's settled. On to the next matter of business!" Abigail hands you a simple dress and apron, "I have to teach you everything there is to know about navigating the marketplace, finding deals, who to be wary of, and anything else important...Oh! And to curb that attitude of yours." She wags her finger at you as you dress.

"What's wrong with how I act?" You plant your hands on your hips with a huff.

"Nothing really, you're headstrong and independent, but if you want to get by without getting too badly hurt, you need to know when to hold and throw your punches."

"I guess I can deal with that."

"Good, we have a lot to cover and only one night to do it."

Six hours of nonstop training passes agonizingly slow. Your brain aches from having to memorize the marketplace, every safe and unsafe alley, friendly houses, merchant names, important figures, and even the school's set schedule. You feel your thoughts swirl as you attempt to remember how to haggle prices, tell a good tomato from a bad one by just looking at it, barter with the stingy shop keeps, and how to keep up an innocent façade in order to keep the public unsuspecting.

“But, shouldn’t they all know I’m not to be messed with?” You ask with a yawn.

“(Name), I know you’re tough, but if you get reckless out there then you’re gonna get hurt. I don’t wanna wake up one morning to find you in a bloody mess at my steps. And I don’t think your mother would like to hear her little girl is dead.”

You pause to take in your friend’s words, “I…never thought about it that way.”

“Dearie, there’s a time and place to pick a fight, you just need to know when. Now get some sleep, I need you to go out to the market early tomorrow morning.”

You curl back up in your bed and let exhaustion take over.

You wake up to the sensation of Abigail lightly nudging your arm.

"Get up, get dressed, there's a list of what you need to buy and the money for it on the table. I have to get breakfast ready. I'm sure you can handle the shopping."  She coos softly.

You groan and wipe the sleep from your eyes then proceed to swing your legs over the side of the bed and plant your feet on the cold stone floor. You yawn loudly then proceed to wash your face off in the basin next to the small wood stove. The chilly water quickly shocks your system awake and you quickly pace over to the cabinet by your bed. You pull out the wool dress and shuffle into it, then you tie the apron tightly around your waist and slip into the leather boots by your feet. You look out the shuttered window to see the sun rising slowly. You glance to the clock on the wall.

"...Two hours to get the shopping done...Okay..." You sigh and gather the list and money from the table before running out into the marketplace.

Even though the sun is barely up, patrons scurry about the large district. Chatter roars through the early morning air, the rumbling of traveling feet sounds like thunder, the pungent odor of fresh seafood makes you gag and pull your apron over your nose. You frantically look around for the first merchant in the chaos of the morning.

" You should always buy the fruit first! It's freshest in the morning. Then vegetables, then meat, then anything baked, and lastly anything special such as spices and the like ." Abigail's words echo in your thoughts.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the sign for the fruit merchant and attempt to weave your way through the crowd. The vendor waves his hands animatedly and shouts out into the sea of people, drawing in customers left and right. You stop about ten feet from the stand and brace yourself to barge into the wall of bodies that separate you from your first stop.

"Alright (Name)...we...we can do this." You give yourself a little pep talk and ball your fists before charging up to the stand. Several customers glare at you as you furiously collect the fruit you need into a small basket and wave the correct amount of cash at the vendor. The man looks down at you with a glint in his eye that chills you to the bone, but he accepts your money nonetheless and you are soon forced out of the swarm of people.  You huff and sigh deeply before looking down the main road to the vegetable stand only a few feet away.

As you pace down the street you feel suddenly lighter and stop. A voice behind you curses softly and you hear a few coins clatter to the ground.  You whip yourself around just in time to see a figure dashing into a nearby alley. You tremble with rage and pursue the thief, making sure that the produce you had just purchased did not go flying out of your basket as you ran.

You turn the corner into the alley where you see the same figure standing absolutely still.

"Hey, gimme back my money!" You demand and thrust out an open palm.

"No!" The figure screams, by the pitch of their voice you can tell it's a young boy. Another figure steps out of the shadows, this one is much taller and broader. You freeze and hesitate back.

“…if you get reckless out there then you’re gonna get hurt.” Abigail’s words ring in your thoughts.

“Is this girl causin’ you problems Frankie?” The taller, more masculine sounding, figure growls.

“I just want my money back so I can finish shopping.” You stammer out, feeling intimidated.

You watch the taller figure kneel down next to who you assume to be “Frankie” and mumble something. Frankie nods a few times before walking up to you. He looks up at you with regret and holds out the money he stole.

“Sorry miss…” He whispers. You cautiously take back the money and quickly leaf through it to make sure it is all there. Yes, it is. Your thoughts flash to your family’s situation, how they could very well be in the same boat as the two men in front of you. A wave of pity washes over you and you pull a dollar out from the small stack tucking it in little Frankie’s hand before offering an orange to him. The small boy smiles and scampers off to the larger man.

“You’re too kind girl.” The tall figure says with a smile in his voice. You reach into the fruit bag and pull out an apple; Abigail should not mind if you are short two fruits.

“Here, for you too.” You toss the apple at the figure and watch him catch it.

“Nice aim, and thank you. You really are too kind.” Both men walk farther into the alley and for a moment you feel fairly satisfied with yourself. You turn on your heel and head back out into the marketplace to finish up your errands.

Your arms ache as you struggle to carry back all the groceries. Of course the first day out you have to purchase what feels to be an entire flock of uncooked chicken. You huff out a sigh as you plop the sacks down on the stoop of the kitchen entrance and let yourself in.

“Abby! I have the groceries!” You call and begin to drag the overfilled bags into the large room.

“Oh! Good job dearie! I was worried for a moment, but I knew you could do it!” The head servant coos as she quickly assists you in bringing the bags inside, “Did you have any trouble?”

“At first, a boy took the money you gave me and ran off. I got it back in return for an apple and an orange. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You didn’t get hurt and that’s all that matters.” She empties the bags on the table and begins sorting through the various foods, "Now come on, we have a lot to get done today." You smile and assume your spot next to her at the counter.

Dear Everyone,
I hope everything back on the farm is getting better since you wrote me last year. Madam Yvette has me aiding Abigail, the head servant. She's very kind and very patient. She's taught me so many things like cooking, cleaning, bargaining, navigating, sewing, oh just so much! For my birthday she even made me a small cake and gave me a hat that her mother gave her! Oh it's just so lovely. I wish to show it to you one day.
As of late, everything has been getting busy. Abby and I have been cooking nonstop for the school's dance. It's a huge social event where the graduating girls from the school and the graduating boys from our brother school show that all their tuition money hasn't been wasted with fancy music and dining and dancing. Part of me wishes to go just to dance and listen to the music, but I must stay here and help. I really don't mind. I wish you all luck with the farm and I hope to write you all again soon.
Love,
(Name)

Tears roll down your cheeks as you slip the letter into the envelope and address it. You scoot off the small bed and place the letter on the small table by the door so that the next time you head out you can drop the letter off at the post office.

With a quick swipe of the palm against your cheeks, you wipe away the stray tears and return to Abigail who is stuffing a turkey.

"Ah welcome back, salt please." You hand her the condiment then begin chopping vegetables.

"Thank you."  She exhales, "This is one of the toughest dinners of the year, but it's also my favourite." You glance at the head servant quizzically.

"Why's that?" You slide the chopped vegetables into a large pot of broth.

"Because I really get to push myself. I get to really show my stuff!" She pauses, "Oh shoot. (Name) dearie? Could you head out to the market and get another loaf of bread?"

"Certainly Abby!" You pipe up then grab the purse and your letter before proceeding out the door.

The afternoon sun shines brightly down on the marketplace as you quickly stroll past the patrons. Birds chirp and flutter through the air, a breeze sweeps past your feet, and the soft roaring of chatter fills your ears. But you cannot let the beautiful day distract you, no, you have work to get done. You adjust the hat from Abigail on your head and waltz into the bakery. Luckily it is not busy and you purchase the loaf needed.

"Alright...now to deliver the letter..." You mumble to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment to plan out the route.

The Post Office is a good half mile from the market place and you decide that taking the main road should be the quickest way. With a small huff you make your way out into the streets again.

As you scurry down the sidewalk you hear the boy working the news stand shouting something about a city named "Columbia". You hesitate for a moment and end up staggering to a stop. That name... Columbia .

It strikes a chord in your mind and you feel some sort of pressure build in your head. Your vision hazes over like static. Words and phrases garble in your thoughts, trying to make coherent conversations. You grab your head and groan.

Suddenly a loud caw snaps you from the pain and you blink a few times, feeling instantly better. You straighten your posture and quickly resume your trek to the post office.

The building comes into view over the horizon and you break into a sprint. Everything becomes a blur of sights and sounds as you focus in on the mailbox just a few yards in front of you. Quickly, you open the box and toss the letter inside, and turn on your heel to dash back to the school to help Abigail.

"Whew...Great work today dearie." Abigail sighs as she slowly sits down in her rocking chair. You take a seat on the stool next to her and sigh softly.

"What's wrong?" She glances over at you.

"I was just thinking...How fun it would be to go to the dance. I mean, I hate all the girls, and of course I hate Madam Yvette, but I'd love to go and dance for night. Get all dolled up...maybe find a boy..." You sigh dreamily.

Abigail laughs heartily and pats your shoulder. You look up at her and raise a brow.

“What? What is so funny?” You all but huff as you cross your arms.

“I’ll tell you what dearie. When you’re 17 in two more years, I’ll make you a dress for that dance. You deserve to have one night.”

“R-really?!” Your (colour) eyes flicker in happiness and excitement.

“Besides, it’ll be the last time you have to ever see those uppity snobs.” Abigail tosses her head back, imitating a higher class woman. You giggle in delight and smile, utterly excited that in two short years you would be out dancing the night away.

Perhaps…”two short years” is an understatement since those two years seem to drag on and you and Abigail only seem to get busier, but true to her word, Abigail fashions you a beautiful gown just for the dance. You run your hands over the soft red material and stare at yourself in the mirror. Everything about the dress is perfect. From the cinched waist, to the slightly taut sleeves, to the subtly flared skirt...just everything! You can’t help but smile. A stray tear falls from you eye as you marvel in the sheer beauty.

“Red really suits you.” You hear Abigail coo from behind, “But remember what  I told you dearie.”

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, “How could I forget? You’ve only been drilling it into my head for the past week.”

“Prove it then.”

“Don’t talk to any of the girls, stay out of trouble, stay away from Yvette, if someone should notice me I will leave.”

“And have fun. Be safe.” She hooks her arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your temple. You smile and pull Abigail into a tight hug before heading up into the school.

Luckily for you no one seems to recognize you right away and you find a seat far enough away from the other girls of the school. The dance still has a few minutes until it begins and you take that time to glance over your former classmates. All of the girls seem so dull behind their eyes, like the life has been drained right out of them. You snicker to yourself, perhaps being thrown down into the pits of the school was the best thing to ever happen to you. However you continue looking around the large ballroom and spot Madam Yvette standing expectantly at the oversized set of doors.  Her dark grey hair now has stark streaks of white against it, no doubt from having to had deal with you, her eyes look sunken in and completely defeated, and her mouth is twisted in a frown. You yourself can’t help but smile at the fact that you left a rather “great” impression on that horrible, stuck-up, vile…

The doors unlatch and a line of young men march into the ballroom, lead by their own Headmaster. Madam Yvette forces a smile and offers her hand to the headmaster which he takes and kisses the back of her palm. You sneer and make a soft noise of disgust at the sight.

“Well everyone, I hope you enjoy your evening. Dinner was provided by the lovely Miss Maria!” Yvette motions over to a plump looking woman by the food. You scowl, how dare she not even give Abigail credit for her hard work! You can feel your blood boiling in anger, but you compose yourself quickly since the night is still young.

“Now enjoy yourselves, congratulations everyone, you deserve it.” The Headmaster finishes and the music starts playing a slow tune. The young men make their way over to your former classmates and escort them out onto the floor. You remain in your seat, waiting for the mood to lighten and for Madam Yvette to stop looking...in your direction. You swallow thickly, hoping that she doesn’t immediately stomp over to you and lash you. Both your eyes link and you can feel the tension building.

“ Oh no...Oh no...Please no .” You beg mentally. And to your surprise, Yvette looks away, but not without sending you a subtle smirk of “You’ll get yours”.

A chill runs down your spine and you stand up to make your way over to the food where a few of the more nervous students attempt to keep from mingling. The smells all mix in a lovely aroma that makes your mouth water. Beef, chicken, pork, vegetables, breads, sparkling juices...you have half a mind to just dive right in. You grab a plate and begin filling it as best you can. The boys on the other side of the table stare at you in disbelief.

“You’re...going to eat all that?” One boy nearly blurts out, his friend keeps staring at your plate.

“Of course!” You smile and grab a glass of sparkling cider, “Care to join me over at a table?” Both boys flush brightly before turning to one another and exchanging some murmured words.

“Be right there, you go on and sit down.”

You flash another smile and find a table away from the crowd before setting everything down and waiting for the young men to join you. However only one does and you look at him quizzically.

“Where’s your friend?” You inquire, tilting your head slightly.

“Oh, Joseph? He said he was going to dance with the…” he points to a shy looking girl in the corner, “the red-haired girl over there...Ana I think her name is.” You let out a soft “ah” and nod.

“Anyways, my name’s Adam.” He holds out his hand and you firmly shake it, which throws him off guard.

“Oop, sorry. I’m used to dealing with my brothers…I’m (Name)” you chuckle nervously and loosen your grip so that he’s able to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

“It’s alright, so...um…” Adam flushes and rubs the back of his neck. You simply dig into your food as he stammers awkwardly. You lose yourself in the tastes and something in the back of your mind sparks in rage. How dare Abigail not get the credit she deserves! Not thinking, you bang your fist on the table, and all but stop everything going on.

“U-uhm…(N-name)?” Adam stares at you, his lip trembling in what appears to be worry. You hear footsteps behind you.

“Miss (Surname), are you causing another riot?” Madam Yvette coos from behind. You swallow thickly and turn to face the woman.

“Of course not. I was just...startled, I thought I saw something.” You do your best to reply coolly. The tension only grows thicker as Madam Yvette clicks her tongue and paces off. You sigh heavily and slump over.

“Are you alright? What startled you?” The young man across from you scans you over.

“It’s nothing…How about we go out and dance?”

Adam blinks a few times and your eyes grow wide. Did you just offend him? What was so odd about that question? Your mouth feels dry and you sink back in your chair.

“Adam?” You softly pipe up.

“Oh it’s just...unusual for such a girl to be so straightforward, but sure let’s dance.” He rises from his seat and offers a hand. You lightly grasp around his hand and let him lead you out onto to the floor. Adam turns in front of you and places one hand on your shoulder and the other around your waist. He proceeds to lead you in a spirited dance and you make sure that you don’t trip over your two left feet. Adam smiles as he spins you around, a soft laugh escapes his lips and you can’t help but laugh as well...until your feet suddenly forget what movement is and you fall clumsily into the next couple, knocking them over onto the floor.

Everything stops again, and you gulp. This is it. You’re dead. The other girl whimpers and tears up while her date glares at you with a burning hatred.

“I am so sorry!” You manage to squeak out.

“(Name)?” You hear the girl gasp under her breath as her eyes grow wide. Oh no. She recognizes you. Her lips crack a subtle, wicked smile. In an instant she works up the tears and sobs loudly.

“S-She struck me!” The girl wails and holds a hand over her eye as if it was hurt. Your mind reels, trying to remind yourself not to start a fight, but it becomes increasingly harder as the girl continues to cry out accusations.

Yvette and the headmaster march up to the scene and a pair of rough hands pluck you from the ground.

“And who is this Madam Yvette? Certainly not one of your beautiful young ladies.” The Headmaster all but snarls.

“No, she’s not Sir Stephan.  She’s just a sneaky little finch. Used to cause all sorts of trouble here.”

It’s definitely over. And you were doing so well too. Looks like you are going home in a casket.

Then like a silver lining, a familiar voice rings out, “Oh dearie! (Name)! You forgot the bulb!” Abigail comes scurrying into the ballroom with a light bulb.

“Servant…” Yvette begins bitterly, “isn’t this girl under your watch?”

Abigail bows her head, “Yes ma’am, I sent her to change the broken bulb over there,” she points to a conveniently shattered bulb, “But in  the tizzy she forgot the bulb! I do hope she hasn’t caused any trouble.”

“She has.” The Headmistress narrows her eyes. Abigail brings a hand to her mouth in shock and manages to pull you away from Sir Stephan.

“I’m gonna teach her a lesson.” Abigail drags you off.

“What did I tell you?” Abigail scolds as she sits you down in a chair.

“I was fine for a while...then I tripped and this girl cried wolf on me. Saying I hit her! Even Yvette knew I was there and she didn’t bother me!”

“So what did happen?” She raises a brow and you explain the events of the dance to her. Abigail looks you over a few times. The silence grows uncomfortable and part of you wonders just what might happen. Then Abigail breaks down into a coughing fit, clutching her chest as she crumples to the ground.

Panic settles in your chest and you kneel next to your friend. Her face looks a little paler and her hands are clammy. Sweat beads on her forehead and she coughs violently again. By the looks of it, this was no sudden illness, but rather something that had been going on for a while. You help set her up in her rocking chair and rush to the basin to soak a rag and fill a cup with water. You return to Abigail, whom is trembling, and pat her forehead with the rag.

“A-Abby…” You whimper. She cracks her eyes open and smiles.

“I’m fine dearie. Just a little tired.” She takes the cup and slowly sips  down the water. But you don’t feel relieved in the slightest. The look in her eyes is that of an exhausted woman. She suddenly looks so tiny in that chair and you swallow thickly, a pang in your stomach telling you to expect the worst.

Abigail reaches forward and strokes your hair, “I’m fine. I just need a nice rest is all.” You feel your lip tremble at her voice. How weak and defeated it sounds...but you don’t protest. Instead you tiptoe your way to your bed and lay down, praying that your gut isn’t right.

The next morning isn’t any better when you find Abigail hunched over a wastebasket, retching. You slip on your work clothes and move to your friend. You pat her shoulder to let her know you’re up and she huffs.

“I’m a little worse for wear today. Could you finish the meal and go serve the girls? As long as you don’t say anything...you should be fine.” She breathes out. You utter out a “sure” and quickly move to the kitchen so that breakfast can be served on time.

It’s a simple meal, one Abigail had shown you thousands of times over. You portion out the plates and stack them on the serving cart before taking everything out into the dining room. Weight settles on your shoulders as you feel every girl stare at you. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you silently serve the table. The sound of hushed chatter and rumors fills your ears and you do your best to ignore them. But mixing that with the growing worry of Abigail’s condition really begins to wear on you.

When you round the table, Madam Yvette pulls you aside, “Where’s the other servant?” she asks.

“Abigail is ill. She needs rest.” You reply clearly. The Headmistress nods slowly and her eyes flicker something that chills you to the bone.

“I see, well...finish up. You have to carry her duties as well as your own.”

“Of course.” You resume serving the girls before retreating back down to the small living quarters under the school. Your mind feels full of static as you attempt to mentally balance the new list of chores and you nearly miss the last step of the staircase, giving yourself a mini heart-attack. You stop at the door to the quarters and a new wave of fear and worry wash over you. Something doesn’t feel quite right. You twist the knob on the door and see Abigail still in her chair.

She weakly motions you to come over and you obey, “Dearie…” She coughs, looking worse than before, “I can feel it in my lungs…”

You choke on rogue tears as she begins to stroke your hair, “I most likely won’t make it through the night...I can hear home callin’ my name. Now...you...you have to put all that learnin’ to use. Know when to pick a fight. When to run...I know you can do it. And one day, you’ll be back home with ya folks. Tellin’ them how brave of a girl you are.”

Sobs wrack your body and you bury your face in the fabric of her dress. Abigail continues to coo softly and stroke your hair.

“Don’t cry anymore dearie…Finish your work for today. I’ll still be here.”

You nod and rise to your feet so that you may finish Abigail’s work.

Your mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day. Nothing seems real anymore as you prepare meals, everything seems to be in a fog. Your hands slip a few times as you peel potatoes, cutting your fingers up. You drop the large pot of stew and spend the next ten minutes cleaning it up in a haze. Serving lunch you nearly break down into tears at the prospect of your best friend dying and at dinner you nearly collapse to the floor when Madam Yvette tells you that Abigail will be “taken care of”.

As soon as dinner is on the table you rush back to Abigail, only to find that she is missing. The door that leads to the alley shuts loudly and you run over to see a man leading Abigail deeper into the darkness. Everything in your mind crashes forward, sending your head into a spiraling ache. The fading light casts an angelic glow around Abigail as she slumps against the brick wall. The man draws a knife and you watch it shimmer as he quickly slashes her throat in a glittering spray of crimson. You shriek at the sight. How could someone treat anyone like this?! Like cattle?! No, worse than cattle. What kind of sick and twisted person could just allow this to happen?! Abigail could have gotten better by some miracle! Or even passed on peacefully in her sleep…

Hot, angry tears roll off your cheeks and you collect a blanket. You pace out into the alley once the man has left and you cover Abigail’s lifeless body. Fire sparks in your stomach and you decide that you can no longer stay here. Not with these horrible monsters.