Abbey

“I’ve always known where it was.” The family swung their heads around and stared at a timid Abbey. “I’ve always known. I just never know what it’s for or where it leads to. All you guys do is tell me that it’s dangerous but you never say why. I’m tired of wondering. Why is it so dangerous? Why?!” Her shouts were followed by a moment of silence, everyone unsure of what to say.

“Ab, you know why we can’t tell you,” Roger said, “it’s dangerous and that’s all you need to know for now. When you get older, we can tell you more. You’re only 12, Abbey. If we tell you too much, you’ll be scared to sleep at night. Scared to use the bathroom by yourself. We need to wait until you’re mature enough to handle the truth. Then maybe one day you’ll get your own key to The Door.”

The tension eventually eased up and the dinner proceeded. Abbey’s mother was silent and shaky as she tried to eat her food. The humor from the boys helped the conversation to return to something less serious than what had occurred. Abbey seemed to have forgotten why she was upset before and returned to her normal self, but she looked forward to her plans for after dinner. She was finally going to get into the boys’ backpacks to see what they had kept hidden for so many years.

At sharply 9 PM every night, Abbey was locked into her room with one of the keys. Her parents did this to keep her from sneaking out, but she remembered watching a scene from a movie where someone used a bobby pin to unlock the door. Luckily, she had one lying on the floor under her bed. After the lock-in, Abbey lied in bed patiently waiting for everyone to fall asleep. Since her family members snored loudly, she could indicate when the coast was clear for her to unlock the door.

The time had come, and Abbey jiggled the bobby pin up and down in the key hole until she heard a click, like in the movie. The door creaked open and she had the sudden urge to run through the house like an escaped convict. Instead, she tiptoed to the chest near the windows where she knew the boys always kept their backpacks. As she crossed through the middle of their large living room, a sudden bang came from the ceiling, shaking the chandelier. Abbey froze for a minute, then continued tip toeing to the chest, telling herself it was probably just “the house adjusting.” This was something her father told her often when there were strange noises throughout the house.

Finally, Abbey stood over the chest and opened it slowly, staring at the backpacks. Jackpot. As she began to unzip one, something sharp poked through the zipper. She unzipped it completely and dumped out its contents: an axe, a gun, a knife, and a crossbow.





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