Abigails Sin

F.A.N.G

I didn't sleep well that night. Plagued by vivid nightmares, if that's what you could call them. Remembering the time I had spent with John at his cabin believing maybe there was more humanity in him than his brothers, more humanity than I once believed. Thinking about the disappointment in Faith's soft voice as she called through the thin wooden door to me over and over. Begging me to reconsider and come home with her. I had nothing to say to her, all this time she knew what was happening but never said anything to me. I wasn't family, this I knew, but I thought maybe I deserved something more. Tossing and turning. It was too hot but my body was frozen solid. My chest ached, it felt like I had been cheated in some way. It made sense that they had all lied to me, anything for the project. Of course Faith didn't know what John had said to me, I couldn't blame her for those things, but I did blame him. He knew exactly how to play me into his hands. To mold me into something he could control, I had started to see more of who he really was the day I left, but none of it made any sense to me still.

It was still raining when I woke. I sat up and pulled my long black hair from my face into a braid running dow the length of my spine. I changed from my old tattered clothing into a pair of Mary's jeans and a plain blue shirt. Every movement felt like shaking the rust off. My muscles ached from they're sudden overhaul of movement in the last two days where before I had been stationary for weeks. I grabbed Matthews navy baseball cap from the table as I walked out the door. The creaky stairs down to the bar gave away my movement long before I wanted them to. It was morning now so the people that had been drinking last night cleared out long ago, leaving only Matthew and Mary talking over the bar to each other, it was clear that they were waiting for me. Nick stood next to my brother entertaining a darker skinned woman with raven coloured hair braided back from her face just like mine. She was turned away from me but as I reached the bottom step she swirled around to look at me. She had high cheekbones and deep brown eyes, a small U.S flag hung around her throat like a bandana with her cameo long sleeved shirt. There was nothing about her that was scary in anyway but there was something about her that just gave off threatening vibes. Especially the war paint that dawned her unmarked face.

"Hungry?" Matt asked when I stumbled into a chair beside him

"not really"

"you have to eat" Mary turned back to the small window where the kitchen was located retrieving a fresh plate of toast and eggs that I assumed had been prepared for me. She set in down in front of me hands on her hips as she stared me down, clearly mothering me. I hadn't eaten in sometime. My stomach lurched at the sight of food even though I felt like I was nauseous from emotion. I shook my head with a small laugh grabbing a fork and beginning to dig in. It was difficult at first. Forcing the food down my unwilling throat but I pushed myself to do it, to get the strength I would need for today.

"We haven't met" her voice pulled my attention in her direction "Grace Armstrong" she held out a callused hand to me. I took it, and said

"Abigail" between mouthfuls of scrambled eggs. She sat down on the other side me, ignoring Nick's protests when she shouldered him out of the way.

"You ready to be back on your feet ma'am?" no one had ever called me ma'am before, no one but small children.

"I don't have a choice" I stated shovelling the last of the toast down. Mary slid a water down to me and I raised it thankfully in her direction. I glanced at the people around me. All of their eager eyes following my every moment. Matthew seemed brighter, full of life in a new way. I suppose now that he knew I wasn't dead he could look that way.

"It's been a while since we had breakfast together" Matthew said digging his elbow just below my ribcage in a bothersome way, like he usually did "gives me some hope" he gave me a weak smile. I looked deeper into Grace's eyes, I could see a flash of pity, for what? Being deceived by John was the least of my worries right now.