Wish On Stars

Abby laced up her black leather boots, ready for more of the hot, dry weather. She tucked her faded red plaid shirt into her light jeans, secured by a cow skin belt. Yanking her hair into a long, sandy ponytail, she set out with her bucket to gather the eggs from the hen house. Yet another day of work.

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Abigail Brooke was your typical young country girl. She had long, curling, sandy brown hair that reached her lower back. Her eyes were a piercing green, and her tan cheeks were dotted with freckles. She was tall, standing about 5'6". At 17, she never had much outside interaction. Her school was walking distance and it was pretty small. She had never gone to town with her Papa, but she didn't want to. It was the terrible place where her mother got hit by a car and promptly passed away. She lived alone with her Papa now, doing twice the work and being the woman of the house. Life was steady, and Abby missed her mother dearly, but she was happy.

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At the end of the long, hot day, Abby made it home before her Papa in order to start dinner. She slipped her Mama's old cotton apron over her clothes and let her hair out. She sighed at the sticky heat, and removed a glass bowl from an upper cabinet. After mixing and kneading the dough, Abby slipped the dough into the mold that her great grandmother had made as a girl. While the bread and roast cooked, she decided to make herself a bath. Grabbing an old tin bucket, she walked to the well to fill it with cool water. She pulled a small bottle of soap from under her floorboards and measured a small amount to add into her bath. She slipped into the slowly heating water and closed her eyes. She heard a distant tinkling sound as she drifted into sleep. Suddenly, every fibre of her being was focused on one distant figure. Shrouded by mist and wrapped in a dark cloth, the figure was petite and held a dimly lit candle, dripping wax on asphalt. Abigail felt the urge to follow this figure, to catch up. She raced forward, heart pounding and legs aching. The figure turned and held up a tiny hand. Abby stopped in her tracks. Her heart stopped when she saw the figure's face. Slowly, she reached up to remove the hood from the figure's head.

Lily Brooke's soft brown waves tumbled down her shoulders as a soft smile curved on her lips. "Hey Abs," her mother spoke, piercing blue eyes tearing through Abigail's mind. "...mom?" Abby whispered. Her mother took her hand. "Follow me." She spoke sternly. Abby complied, weaving hurriedly down narrow streets. They came to a dark, small alleyway and Abby's mom produced the candle once more. She slowly and carefully carved the words "once again" into the side with a needle. She glanced up at Abby cautiously, then smiled and said "See you soon." Before throwing the lit candle at Abigail's face.

"Aeiiii!" Abby screamed, jolting upright in the tub. The buzzer for the food was going off, and Abby slipped a towel about her to tend to it. She ambled her way downstairs, still dazed from the dream. The thin, worn towel barely covered her as she set the table for two and slipped a pie in the oven. She called out the back door for Papa, and lit a wax candle. She shuddered at the mere sight of it.

Once her Papa entered and she had set the table, she noticed him staring at her a little more than usual. Specifically, her breasts. Embarrassed, she excused herself to change. Once in her tiny room with the door shut tight, she dropped the towel and studied herself in the full sized mirror. She wasn't THAT attractive...but her breasts were a little on the ample side. She noticed that her waist was narrowing...and her hips were widening... Good lord, why? Why did she have to hit puberty?! She pulled an old t-shirt over baggy shorts. Her legs were thick with the same sand-colored hair spread down her shoulders. She sighed. After settling down to dinner, her Papa focused angrily on his dinner. "Papa? Is something wrong?" She asked, concerned. "No. Nothing at all." He mumbled. She stretched a hand out to grip his wrist, and spoke softly. "You can tell me. It's okay." "Well," he started. "Some young city boys rejected from the Navy are coming down central Tennessee looking for boarding houses, and if you offer them one, you get $3,000 removed from your rent." He finished with a scowl and a hand flourish as if to say "stupid-city-boys-and-their-being-rejected-and-needing-homes". "Papa!" Abby gasped. "That's great news! We won't be in debt anymore!"

"No, it's not." He growled. "You don't need to be interactin' with any city boys." He said, pulling away from the table. Abby stared silently down at her food and stood from the table to do the dishes. Every time her father got like this, he came into her room at night to apologize. For some odd reason, she wanted to prolong this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~+~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Abby had finished brushing her hair, she lay in bed with the candle blown out, staring at the ceiling. She heard soft footprints and then a slight tap at her door.

"Come in, Papa," she spoke softly. He entered, hair tousled and looking stressed as ever. She sat up, and patted the bed next to her. He silently sat, staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Abs. I know how much we need this, but I didn't want to have a boy your age in our house. It's selfish of me, I know."

"Papa! Don't you dare say that. That's the least selfish thing I've ever heard of! I'd be fine with a boy here, I probably wouldn't even look at him."

He sighed deeply, then said "I guess it would be good for us...okay. I'll let one stay. If he so much as touches you, though..." Abby smiled at him and nodded. He chuckled lightly, then started gently stroking her thigh. "I really love you, Abs." He spoke quietly. "I love you too, Papa." She replied. He hugged her, a little longer than necessary, then leaned forward to kiss her. Every night, she gave him a kiss on the lips out of affection. He gave her a long kiss, then things started to make her uncomfortable.

He licked her lip and tried to push his tongue into her mouth. She pushed him away, and his face flared with anger. She cowered into a corner of her bed. He grabbed one of her arms and produced the belt from her floor. He tied her hands to a bedpost and flipped her on her back. Ripping off her clothes, he ran his hands up and down her bare body, enjoying the smooth skin under his hands. She squirmed furiously and he whipped her hard on her butt with his hand. He proceeded to tear her underwear off, leaving her completely naked. Removing his own belt with a wicked smile, he slid the cool leather across her bottom. She whimpered as he brought it down hard on her swelling rump.

She kind of liked it, though.

He tied her legs to the bed, spread wide. He continued to rub his hands along her thighs, making her turn about. She shut her eyes tight as he put his fingers in her and worked on her.

She gasped out in shock when she felt his "thing" glide along her thigh and slowly into her. She started to think of other things, get her mind off of it. Her body tensed up, and then she shook as she felt something wet down there. He left her like that, lying and whimpering in pain.

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(A/N: Was that too graphic? If you liked it, vote! Comments/feedback GREATLY appreciated, thanks!)