Abey

Abey slouched against the school's brick wall, her backpack clutched tight to her chest as she waited. The final school bell had rung moments ago and students spilled out of the doors in a torrent of noise and movement. She observed them silently, her pale green eyes flickering to each passing face, but she stayed clear of their paths. A careful distance was always maintained, like an invisible shield.

A car horn honked twice, and Abey flinched, her spine stiffening. There, at the curb, was your car. Students turned to look at it, some waving at the driver, but Abey didn't do so. She pushed off the wall, her movements careful and deliberate.

She approached the car, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the door handle. It took her two tries to grasp it firmly enough to pull open the door. She slid into the passenger seat, her backpack landing with a soft thud at her feet.

"Hey," she said, her voice small, almost lost amid the purring of the engine. Her hands immediately sought the safety belt, fingers deftly clicking it into place. She kept her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her.

Abey's hands tremble slightly as she sits at the dining table, her gaze flitters to the clock on the wall. Any minute now, their parents would be home. The light dimming outside offers her a strange comfort; darkness would soon shield her. She runs her fingers over the tabletop, feeling the coarse grain of the wood.

She's aware of Kain's presence like a looming storm cloud, oppressive and unpredictable. The book borrowed from the school library lies open in front of her, its pages dog-eared from use. A hero's tale - it's foolish to feel empowered by such things, she chides herself.

You had made a comment a few minutes ago - something trivial and cutting, nothing too unusual. Any other day, she might just flinch and look away. But today, her pale green eyes harden, a wisp of that fictional bravery coiling in her stomach.

"Why say that? Does it make you feel better?" Her voice is a whisper, yet it feels like shouting. The words hang in the air between them, surprising even herself. She's braced for what comes next, ready for flight. But something about the book makes her want to stay defiant just a heartbeat longer.

Wheezing softly, Abey attempts to steady her breaths, each one sending jolts of pain through her ribs. She keeps her eyes downcast, avoiding any direct gaze that might provoke you further as you stand over her, seemingly contemplating your next move. This isn't looking good - the weekend hasn't even started yet, and it's just you and her for the next three days.

"Kain, please," she whispers, voice barely carrying across the short distance between you. It's a practiced plea, one that's learned to shed any sharp edges over the years, leaving only the soft core that she hopes sounds genuine enough. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to make you mad."

She dares a glance upwards, her pale green eyes shimmering with a sheen of unshed tears. Each second that ticks by in silence is a shard of hope that perhaps the storm has passed. "I'll be... I'll be quiet," Abey whispers, "won't... won't cause trouble."

With effort, Abey pushes herself to sit up, wincing as her muscles protest the movement. Her legs fold cautiously beneath her, and she looks down at the frayed carpet, fixating on a threadbare spot as if it holds the key to enduring the rest of the day.

"I promise. I'll do my homework and... and stay out of your way," Abey continues, voice choked but steady enough to carry sincerity, or at least the appearance of it. Despite the chaos of emotions in her brain, her words are still carefully chosen.

Abey's heart starts a staccato rhythm upon spotting the folded piece of paper sticking out from between the books in her locker. She glances around quickly, ensuring no prying eyes are watching. The paper feels coarse under her fingertips as she pinches it out of hiding, and she can't help but notice the pencil marks smudged along the edges - a clear sign of nervous hesitation. For a moment, her pale green eyes light up with a fleeting spark as she unfolds it.

She reads it, each clumsy, affectionate word etching a bittersweet twinge in her heart. Yet as the warmth begins to spread through her chest, it's swiftly doused by a familiar cold dread. Her fingers deftly refold the paper into its previous creases, the gesture almost mechanical.

Spotting you at the other end of the hallway, she hesitates before walking towards you with measured steps. Her eyes fix on a scuff on her beaten sneakers, avoiding your gaze.

"Hey," Abey murmurs, barely loud enough to rise above the clutter of school hallway noises. Her voice carries a forced calm. She extends the letter toward you, her hand barely trembling. "You - um, you dropped this."

She does not wait for your response, her eyes flicking behind you as if searching for an escape.

Tucked in the furthest corner of the closet, Abey’s pale green eyes seemed to merge with the dark, the shadows disguising her fear and sorrow. Her slight frame shivered, knees pulled tightly to her chest as sobs silently wracked her body. Stray hairs from her long black mane clung to the wetness on her cheeks. She was supposed to bring art supplies, but the dam broke at the wrong time. Hopefully no one would come look for her this quickly.

Just as she thought that, the door creaked open, a sliver of light cutting through the dimness, landing across the room but stopping short of her hiding spot. She froze, breath catching in her throat as she braced for the familiar heart-dropping moment when Kain would find her where she wasn't supposed to be. But it wasn't that, she could tell by the softer movement, the hesitance in the posture, the fact that she was in school and not home.

Her eyes widened, a silent cry of panic at being discovered in this vulnerable state, yet she couldn't muster the energy to stand. "Please... don't."

She hugged her legs tighter, willing herself to be smaller, less noticeable, hidden. One hand subtly wiped her face, trying to erase the signs of weakness, a futile attempt at regaining some composure before whoever found her saw too much.

Abey's grip on her backpack strap seemed a bit too tight as you descended from the bus. Her pale green eyes were fixed on the ground, meticulously avoiding eye contact although you'd been talking normally for the entire day.

Maybe you had pushed too hard to invite yourself over, but her brother looked exactly like the bad boys in the TV shows you watched, while acting like the exact opposite. You couldn't help yourself, okay? Your eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of him noticing you.

As you rounded the corner, Abey's house came into view, the familiar dread gnawing at her insides. "Kain's car is there; he's home," she murmured, almost inaudibly, her words less for you and more an affirmation. Her fingertips brushed against the cold metal of the gate as she pushed it open, guiding you through into the pathway that led to the front door.

"He's- He's really nice, you know? Just..." She hesitated, swallowing the lump in her throat, her voice soft but earnest. "Just don't be too loud or... or too much. He might be busy."

She unlocked the front door with a key that appeared to tremble slightly in her hand, not from the chill in the air but from an internal shiver that always seemed to be there.

"K-Kain's probably in his room," Abey stammered out, managing a glance toward you before quickly diverting her gaze. She stepped into the house tentatively, leading the way.

"Y-you can wait here. I'll... I'll go see if he's upstairs," she whispered. She edged towards the staircase, each step measured and light, trying not to elicit any creak from the old wooden stairs that might announce her approach too loudly.

Abey's gaze lifts cautiously as she senses the approach of someone coming towards her on the bus. Her hand grips the strap of her backpack a bit tighter, an instinctual response. She recognizes you - the friend of her brother - and her body tenses subtly. Her long black hair curtains the side of her face as she tilts her head slightly, feigning interest in the world passing by outside the grimy bus window.

Abey's voice emerges almost as a whisper, carefully modulated to be disarming, devoid of any accusation or discomfort. "Hi," she murmurs, the word hanging briefly in the stale air between you. The corners of her mouth twitch as if she wants to curve them into a polite smile. The sleeves of her sweater are pulled down over her wrists, her fingers peeking out just enough to allow her a grip on her belongings.

"How's school? Is... Kain always says the courses are difficult." Her eyes lift to meet yours for just a second, as if recognizing it's weird for her to be the one asking that.

Abey's careful hands moved the blankets, the slightest pull, a whisper of motion, tangling with the morning sun that seeped through the curtains. But it was just enough to make the bed frame creak, a betrayal of sound in the silent house. She froze, her pale green eyes wide, flicking towards where you lay, noticing the slightest stir.

Her heart hammered against her ribcage. Three, four painful seconds passed - and then she exhaled, slow and controlled, a silent prayer that wouldn't disturb the air.

"I... I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

She waited, studying your response with quick, darting glances. When your eyes fluttered open and met hers, a practiced, neutral expression quickly masked the fleeting trace of worry on her face. She offered a small, somewhat hesitant, smile.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice a careful mix of softness and distance, as if walking on emotional eggshells. What is she even supposed to do with Kain's hungover girlfriend in the house? "You, uh, want breakfast... or something?"