"My mother got flowers today--the loveliest she's ever got. Too bad she won't be able to see them this time. She'd smile at them and rest them on the lounge table as a reminder that she was loved."
To everyone else, the speech was lovely, but to Abigail, she knew there was nothing but fervent mockery of the whole situation. She eyed the closed box with nothing but contempt. How could one woman be so foolish? So implicitly blind?
"I placed them beside her casket because that's where she would want them. Open and bold for everyone to see so that she could have a reason to love him." She said 'him' with so much venom, but the congregation only nodded in blind sympathy, as they knew not what was really in Abigail's heart.
Ever since her mother met Mark four years ago, no one but her had ever known what truly happened within the walls of the Jenison’s house. To the outside world, Mark was the perfect husband, and her mother's never-ending glee of marriage was never seen by the public as something she was suffering from.
She had only been six months into the marriage when Mark first laid his hands on her, and Abigail had called the police in pure fear for her mother's life.
To Abigail's surprise, the woman dismissed the accusations to the police, and scolded her for interfering in what wasn’t 'her business'.
Abigail knew from then that this wouldn’t be the marriage she had hoped for her mother after her father passed. Her loving dad would've been so disappointed in what her mother's love life had become.
The worst part was, that wasn’t the only time.
But Mark with his charming smile, his endless money and his soothing, conniving tongue always found his way back on her mother's good side. When it became too much, he started bringing her flowers, jewels and diamonds every time they had a 'disagreement'. She would love the flowers the most, as she was always a florist by heart.
Mark never hesitated to make Abigail's mom 'happy' with the scented symbols of pain and wholly, being shadowed as an apology for whatever crime he had done to her the night before. They were all forgiven, in her mother's eyes at least, and after four years of begging, pleading and bawling to her mother to leave him, she never listened until she ultimately left forever.
Abi had found the flowers on the porch this morning before the funeral, at the house now void of all screams, shattering glass and Mark's presence since he vanished.
'I really did love your mother Abigail. I wish you could see that.'
She had flung the note in the fireplace and was about to throw the flowers after them too. But then, she knew her mother would've kept them, until they withered away and died, just like her love for her, and ultimately her life.
"Nice aren’t they?" Her humourless chuckle echoed in the small mic as all eyes flickered to the rested roses. "She would've loved them indeed. They were her hope after all, for a happy life one day." Except, that day never came, she wanted to add, but decided against it when she realized that a hundred people's view on her mother would've been tarnished.
Let the dead be the dead. There was nothing she could do about it anymore.
Countless times, despite her mother's requests, she had reported the homely affair to the police. Nobody helped. Nobody looked. Nobody cared.
Now it was all too late, and for the mere peace of her own conscience, she had reported it one last time to the police, telling them that Mark had killed her mother. But Mark's lawyer pointed out that her mother had a 'failing heart', which was the cause of her death.
The saddest part was, she wasn’t even lying.
"My mother got flowers today. And I hope she continues to smile at them as if they were her redemption. Surely, there isn’t any force in this world greater than love," Abigail ended softly with her heart in a contradicting mess.
She didn’t believe it one bit. She only said it for the sake of everyone, and her aunt who had asked her to share a few words of her 'mother's life'. Or lack of rather. She only did it out of respect for the mother she once knew, but lost four years ago.
There isn’t any love in this world. It's greed, lust, submission and pleasure. Maybe in some perfect world, people are actually out there who knew about it, or better yet, felt it. But as for her, there was no love in her life after her father, and none to come ever again.
She was sure of it.
Abi placed the mic back in its holder as she made her leave from the pulpit. She didn’t give the casket that much of a glance as she walked past it, her heels clicking against the tiled church floor as she headed for her seat in the very back.
She kept her head straight, appreciating the gloom that the dark clouds provided, along with its showering downpour to wash away her past. Eyes lingered on her as she stepped past each row, maybe in a scrutinizing, sympathetic or confused way. She wouldn’t know though. She kept her head straight to her empty bench, where she returned with her cold, stoic expression.
She pulled on her black dress as she listened to another lie of friends talking about what an 'open minded', and 'loving' person her mother used to be. Yet, it didn’t matter anymore. There was no need for her bitterness on such a day.
So, for the rest of the day, Abigail accepted condolences, smiled where she was required, bid farewells and ultimately said goodbye to her mother and her past.
She strolled down the street with a single suitcase rolling behind her, and an image of a new life far away from where her darkest days were spent, and where her worst memories sat.
She vowed never to step foot into that man's house again, and she burnt the money Mark had sent her out of pity. Guilt maybe?
She didn’t care. She didn’t want anything to do with him or his belongings, and she especially didn’t want anything of her mother's to remind her of the dread she had to witness.
Hence, with all the clothes and belongings she had bought herself from her own money, along with her few chattels and her recently achieved Degree in Marketing, she flagged a bus and set off to a new life she hoped she could find. Somewhere in the city, maybe?
Abigail had no clue what she'd find or what she'd become, but she knew for certain that she was going to write her own story.
Surely, Mark was an evil, monstrous sorry excuse of a human being, but her mother was and always will be a coward who chose her abusive husband over her only life and daughter.
Let them bury her. Let her stay there in a box condemned to the earth forever. She placed herself there.
At least she'll surely leave with her prized flowers.
"From the top again, Jerry. Tell me the issue." Theodore pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt the hint of a familiar friend coming to visit. His headache.Jerry, Theodore's COO and oldest friend, held the document firmly in his hand that Theodore refused to take."I just finished processing the reports from the Italian winery. Apparently, the reason why the production has been so slow, is because 2000 acres of the vineyard is infected with Grapevine Trunk Disease," Jerry explained as he glanced over the report.It had been appalling news to him too when he first read over the file only an hour ago. But it surely explained the production, or lack of, rather, with the Italian vineyard.This upset Theodore even more. In the wine business, that was probably one of the worst things that could've happened. "For how long?"Jerry gulped as he eyed the file again, even though he knew. "Uh-six months, sir." T
Theodore couldn't sleep all night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was a tiny woman running own the bare streets of Queens, with fear filled eyes and the tiniest piece of clothing a woman could ever wear.The sun had barely risen, and he was already in his kitchen, sipping coffee and skipping through yesterday's paper, even though his mind couldn't focus on what he had been reading.Theodore positioned himself directly where he knew he would see when she should appear from the stairs, but he had no clue what he'd say or do.How would she even react? Will she think he took advantage of her? Maybe.
"You're late, Abigail." She stopped dead in her tracks as she held in a wince. Abigail had hoped that she could've gotten past her boss' office without him taking notice of her tardiness, but it's like he'd been waiting for her to just pop up out of the blue. Abigail spun on her heels with worry etched on her face as she came eye to eye with the man. The manager of SHI Enterprises, who she answered to directly, gazed at her with an arched eyebrow. Since her office was down the corridor from his, she knew it was a long shot trying to sneak past without him realizing. "I apologize, Mr. Hasnic. I-" He held up a silencing hand at her, and her heart plummeting in relief when his familiar smile lit his features.
Saturday couldn’t have taken any longer to arrive.It had been a tortuous twelve hours for Theodore, as he couldn’t find himself having peace with the thought of meeting Abigail again.He still didn’t know what he'd 'talk' to her about, and he acknowledged that the only reason why she agreed was because she was curious about what he needed to say to her. They didn’t necessarily agree to have coffee like normal people. Abigail asked why he'd sought her out and he told her that he needed to talk to her about something.Why didn’t he just be normal and simply ask her to catch up or something?Nonetheless, seeing her under these terms was better than not seeing
Abigail's Wednesday was just as any day of the week. It was hectic, tiring and long. Still, it wasn’t over yet.She had just gotten home from her evening classes, feeling exhausted but still willing to do what she has to do to get by.Grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen island, Abigail shrugged on a trench coat, fished for her keys from her purse and rushed for the door. It was almost 9 p.m., and she had to be in her dressing room to get ready for the 10 o'clock opening of the night club.She had barely caught a breath after being in New York's terrible traffic on her way home from her classes, but she had to do what she simply had to do."Stay home and watch 'Home Alone' with me,
The coffee tasted quite bland today despite the fact that it was made the same way every morning.Theodore’s mood resembled the weather outside—dark and cold as rain filled the day with its gloom. Theodore wasn’t sure why he was feeling so dull. Maybe it was because there had been no improvements in his Italian vineyard, or maybe it was because he hadn’t had a minute to just relax.He no longer knew what it felt like to have a normal or fun life, and on some days--days like this--he was reminded even more.He skipped through the morning paper as he continued to energize himself with the black liquid. Even the papers were boring.He skipped to the sports section, where a woman was highlighted for winning a gymnastics championship. His lips twitched at the sight. She looked so happy with the trophy perched on her hip, as she posed for the camera with an o
Theodore didn’t know what to say. He didn’t expect her to agree so quickly, but he was glad that she did.“I am happy to hear that,” he said with a small smile. “I hope we can get along well.”Abigail nodded with a nervous gulp. “Of course. But as I said, I have terms.”“Name them.”This seemed fair enough in his mind. He knew this was a hard decision for her to make, and he still wanted to do it for her own protection and benefit. So, a few terms on her side wouldn’t be too bad. It is, after all, her body.“First of all, you cannot touch me. That still sta
“Abigail, put on the damn shoes and leave this damn house.” This had been the third time that Najay had to speak to her friend and roommate, but Abigail wouldn’t budge. She sat on the couch, shaking like a leaf for the past thirty minutes. “No.” Abigail couldn’t bring herself to move. Even with pep talk after pep talk which led to scolding, she found it impossible to get up. Why? She had no clue. “Just so you know, you signed a contract, remember?” Najay pointed out with a raised eyebrow. ”I know that,” Abigail hissed before squeezing her eyes shut.&n