Wild Ride - The Alternative Version (Book 2)

Chapter 54~I Am A Warrior, Not The Victim Of Your Pain

5 YEARS LATER

Abbie's POV

I ran through the woods as fast as I could go, not taking the main trail and just running in some random direction through the trees and underbrush. Twigs snapped under me, accompanied by the sound of leaves crunching, the evening sun beating down on me. It started getting warmer slowly now that we're in the middle of May. Tears streaked my face, old ones drying with the wind and new ones falling to replace them. Branches reached out and formed new scratches on my arms, but I'm so used to it that I didn't even really feel it. I knew she wouldn't follow me into the woods, and if she did then she wouldn't go very far. She's always yelling at me for going into the woods, but I do it anyway. She can't stop me. But everything she says hurts. It hurts so bad that I never stop hurting, from the moment I wake up in the morning, to when I go to bed at night, and sometimes even in my dreams which have slowly and permanently been changed to nightmares. The reason I was running now was because I couldn't take it. She went on and on for nearly and hour, ridiculing me worse than she ever has, and hurt so badly. It felt like she was taking a dagger and stabbing me in the chest over and over again but I just wouldn't die, so she kept going. 

When I finally felt like I was far enough, I just fell to my knees, my hands coming out automatically to keep me from going face forward and stopping me, while I just let out big sobs. I grabbed a twig off the ground and angrily threw it as hard as I could, and it hit the trunk of a tree and fell to the ground in two pieces. I wasn't sure how much longer I could go on like this. I didn't want to go on anymore, but I kept going because I always read over the letter Mom wrote me, seeing the part where she told me to push on no matter how hard it got because there was bigger and better things waiting for me. But my question is; how long before I see bigger and better? I told her I'd be strong the day I left, but I don't think I'm strong enough for this. It's gotten worse with each passing year, the insults, feeling small, feeling unloved, everything. I can never do anything right, I'm an abomination to the face of the Earth. When I turned fourteen last month, Grandma said that it was just fourteen years that I should never of existed in. She hates me with a passion, and I stopped trying to be nice to her a long time ago. She constantly bashes Mom and Dad, and I constantly defend them even though it never changes her opinion. But I won't just stand by and let her insult them. She can insult me all she wants, but she can't insult my family. 

Someone's arms came around me, and I instantly pulled away, thinking that it was that nightmare of a grandmother. They kept coming after me though, and I struggled against them, trying desperately to get away while I still sobbed.

"No! Go away! Leave me alone!" I screamed.

"Abbie! Calm down! It's just me!" A familiar man's voice said, and I stopped fighting against his arms to see that it was Uncle Eric, and I relaxed. I turned towards him and cried into his shoulder, hugging him tightly. "Shh, it's ok." He whispered, rubbing my back. 

After I calmed down some, I looked up at him and asked, "Can I borrow one of your guns?" 

He furrowed his brow. "...Why?"

"So I can shoot myself with it." I muttered. 

Uncle Eric's eyes widened. "No! Abbie, you can't say things like that!" 

"Well if I can't say them, can I think them?" 

"Absolutely not." He replied sternly.

"Why not? I'm certainly not going to be thinking pleasant, happy things. Life just isn't worth it anymore, I don't have really anything to live for." I said.

"What about the possibility of seeing your parents again someday?" 

"But that's just it. It's just a possibility. What happens if I do get out of here and go back to California, maybe when I'm an adult and free to leave, but they're not there? I'll just know I wasted my time living and letting myself be miserable, and then I'll be even more miserable. It'd just be easier to never find out."  I looked away, a lump forming in my throat. "They've probably forgotten all about me by now anyway."