Here Lies Love Read online

  We all will, one day, her gran had said in her gravelly voice.

  The scene with the armchair and the fire faded into blackness, and that was all Abbey could remember.

  Abbey awoke with a start, not knowing her surroundings for a good few minutes. Her heart raced, but as she took in the dull, drab buildings and along with the muffled buzzing of the blue haze, Abbey took a deep breath and stretched. Despite being free from her narrow cage, her body was stiff and ached thanks to the cold and the uncomfortable shop doorway. She put her fingers to her lips, tracing the contours of their dry, cracked surface; her mouth dry also, as if she had been continuously chewing taffy. She craved water.

  Peering out round the corners of the shop doorway again, Abbey set off in search of food, or at the very least, something to drink. With no sign of any abrupt gust attacks, she tucked her hands inside her sleeves and scampered onwards. As with the previous day, the city was abandoned with few people itinerantly searching the streets. Abbey knew it was rare for people to venture out unless it was market day, ready to exchange their tokens for some much needed food. She often wondered what the market sellers did with the tokens. As there was no prospect of a better life, they had no real value. Each day, you got up, had food, passed the time with keeping your home tidy; then you went to bed. Perhaps the rich had a haven somewhere, where they lived a life of such luxury? Where do tokens come from though? She had asked her dad numerous times, but her dad always told her she was much too young to understand the fragile social economy.

  Abbey screamed wildly, kicking a nearby slab of wood. “I hate you. I hate you,” she shrieked.

  The lack of food and her frustration was all too much. Where was her dad when she needed him? He should have been a hero, rescuing her from Stefan’s evil grasp. But no, he had sold her to the monster in the first place. Her insides still burned raw from Stefan’s ultimate horrific deed. She stumbled against the plastered wall that was cracked in huge patches. Her head went light, dizzy from the lack of food and she crouched down to steady herself.

  “I can’t do this, I really can’t,” she said to herself, shaking her head and nibbling her lower lip. Perhaps Stefan was right? With him no longer around, maybe she should return to the grounds; it’d be much warmer at least, and maybe if she searched hard enough, she could find some hidden tokens to buy food. She cursed at herself for not thinking more clearly before she left.

  The hum of the blue haze always irritated her more when she was angry; its drone reverberating inside her head. She clasped her hands over her ears wanting to rip her head open in search of the culprit, thinking there must be something in there. Calm down. Calm yourself down.

  As she opened her eyes, as if it had been put there just to tease her, Abbey spotted an apple in the window of a shop exactly opposite her. Hoping it wasn’t some illusion, a mirage of some kind, Abbey blinked and looked in both directions of the street. No one else was around, and the apple was still there. She pushed herself up slowly and darted across to the other side, and pressed her face against the window. The reflection of a small fire hidden somewhere in the room gave verification that someone must be inside, but her warm breath steamed up the window and so she dropped to her knees, peeking inside further.

  The apple was underneath a glass tumbler, its lustreless white-yellow skin already making her mouth water. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room at that very minute. Raising her line of sight, Abbey spotted a latch on the top of the window. It looked loose. She knew if she applied enough force she could easily cause it to drop, opening up the barrier to her prize.

  She backed away, shaking her head and hating herself for even thinking of stealing someone else’s food. It was obvious someone lived in the building, the fire confirmed that. What had she turned into? She had never, ever contemplated stealing before this. Yet, the hunger in the pit of her stomach raged on. Was it so morally wrong, she wondered? I’m so hungry. Abbey was just like everybody else, trying to survive. She needed that apple.

  Slowly inching closer, Abbey slipped her fingers over the top of the window, stretching on her tiptoes to get to the top. The wooden frame felt cold and it was splintered.

  Bang.

  Abbey fell back, a couple of splinters pricking her. Bang. Bang.

  “Bugger off!” an elderly man rattled against the window. “Stay away, you dirty, rotten thief.”

  The old man was thin and his face was covered in tiny abrasions. He swayed from side to side, trembling as he tried to protect what was his.

  Abbey was horrified. Picking herself off the ground, she ran off down the street, hating herself even more.

  The buildings became a blur as she hurtled in any direction she could go, putting as much distance from the elderly man as she could. What the hell was she thinking? Stealing, of all things. You idiot! The burn in her lungs made her breathing wheezy, but still she ran. The burn reminded her that she was alive; almost too scared to stop in case she awoke to find herself stuffed in that overly familiar wooden cage.

  Her eyes refused to focus on her surroundings as she darted left and right, squeezing herself down tight alleyways; the dry, ochre bricks crumbling upon her touch. Her head became woozy, the shuffling of her feet echoing around her as if a hoard of monsters were congregating in one big mass. Abbey glanced behind her, but the blue haze fogged her vision. Without thinking, without seeing, she crashed into a wall, momentarily dazed, before collapsing to the ground.

  The acid in her stomach burned her throat as Abbey came to, just managing to turn her head and retch. The bile tainted her mouth and inner nose. The pain in her head joined the humming drone of the blue haze and she hoped to pass out again. She knew she wasn’t that lucky; twice now she had injured her head, the lump from the previous incident still risen upon her forehead. Her body was beginning to cry out: enough’s enough. As she sat up slothfully, Abbey used the sleeve of her jumper to wipe her mouth, it was already soiled with dirt from the ground. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but perhaps she had underestimated just how difficult this subsisting would be.

  “OK,” she groaned. “Your head is playing nasty tricks on you. There’s no monsters, no one is after you. Everything’s fine.” Somehow, she didn’t believe a word.

  Stifling the pain with her hand, Abbey ever so slowly stumbled out of the alley and back onto a much larger street that was just as abandoned as the last. She couldn’t ascertain how far she had come since leaving the grounds, she didn’t recognise a thing, still. For all she knew, she could have run miles, or metres.

  Stood all beaten-up and lonely across the street was an enormous ramshackle of a structure; enormous in the sense that it ran width way rather than up. Abbey had no idea what on earth it could have once been, but good chunks were reduced to exposed metal bars, its outer layer long gone. The one thing she did know however, was that it would provide great shelter and maybe, just maybe, she could find some food in there. There could very well be others squatting inside, but that was a risk she knew she had to take. She couldn’t expect to not run into anyone. This was a world of chances, and Abbey told herself that she had to push emotion to the background and start taking any chance that revealed itself. This was one of those chances.

  Broken, bare trees lined the path leading up to the decaying building as if they were outlining the road to squalor. Their branches had vanished long ago, their bark plundered for food substitute. Abbey recalled using a knife herself once to rob the plant of its skin. Her dad had soaked the strips in a stew, allowing any nutrients held inside to be sucked out. It was vile, Abbey remembered, sticking her tongue out in disgust, the taste unpleasant and earthy, but she learned at a young age: waste not, want not. As she passed the remains now, she rubbed her palms over their rotted stumps and eyed the building ahead with caution.

  It obviously once sported a great many windows, now holes in the brick work, like the aftermath of a cannonball encounter. Carvings of people with missing limbs or faces or even heads seemed
glued onto the exterior for decoration, with patches that appeared washed-out giving the effigies a pallid overtone. They looked ill, the blue haze a harsh plague against their unusual beauty. Grey plastic tubes lined certain areas of the brick work. Abbey was unsure what purpose they served, but as she stretched her neck to look up, she discovered letters carved above the building’s main entrance.

  “S. C. H … schule,” Abbey tried. The word confused her, but a small smile broke free as she realised the doorway was ajar. This certainly was a chance she had to take. Wrenching the door open slightly further, Abbey slipped inside and coughed the stuffy, dusty air within. Timber blocks, chipped tiles and metal cabinets populated the floor, but she was able to manoeuvre around the debris thanks to the missing windows allowing the blue haze to filter in. The air suddenly smelled wet and in no time at all, Abbey could hear the downpour of rain pitter-pattering outside. She had no choice now, she must investigate further inside, sheltered from the precipitation.

  Upon entry, Abbey immediately took a tentative step back. Greeting her in a grand, but archaic hallway, was an old ruined statue. It was obviously of an aged man, his beard jagged and cut off in places. It was an amazing piece of art; something Abbey neither understood nor appreciated. It seemed strange to her, and after realising that it was utterly harmless, she edged closer. Its surface was rough against her skin - a sandstone base with a stone Abbey didn’t recognise for his body. His hand was also missing numerous fingers, which added to its outlandish appearance. There was a plaque of some sort nailed into the base, but whatever was inscribed there had been etched out long ago.

  Feeling exposed by the vast, open hallway, Abbey decided to venture along the side corridor.

  Abbey soon realised that room after room depicted the same carnage. A multitude of splintered tables piled up in every space imaginable, and so far she was thankful she hadn’t come across anybody else. Her legs ached and her body itched, repelling the dirt that had made its way onto her skin. Abbey had also come across a large washroom with cubicles of toilets and other chipped porcelain sink-type contraptions hanging off the wall. She still had no clue what the building once was, maybe hundreds of years before her time, but with the sound of the rain worsening outside, she was glad she was dry. There didn’t seem to be any food, but she had only explored what, a third of all the rooms?

  Her head throbbed once more, and she crouched down to ease it. Maybe she should have a nap, she thought. Her body screamed for more sleep. Abbey couldn’t believe how tired she was, but with the head injuries still fresh in her memory, she decided to sit against the wall and try. Yes she was hungry, but she had had that tomato and the malt biscuits earlier. They would just have to do. The rain had brought a chill with it and so she folded her arms close to her chest in an attempt to preserve body heat.

  Sleep didn’t come, but that didn’t stop her eyes from hurting, tense and heavy. Abbey rolled up one of her jumper sleeves, exposing her skin to the cold and her hairs on the back of her neck tingled. Even through the dark, the blue haze only touching certain areas of the room, Abbey could still see the awful blistered scars that ran in circles up her arm.

  Stefan.

  Abbey shuddered as she remembered the day he yanked her arm through the cage bars, burning her soft skin with his searing hot cigarette. The pain was horrific and surged in waves around her body. Instinct had forced her to pull her arm back through the bars, but Stefan didn’t allow it, kneeling on her hand, as if it was held tight in a vice to keep it in place. Abbey had tried hard to not give the monster the satisfaction of seeing her scream. Abbey was defiant. She didn’t call out in the middle of the night like the other girls, but what did that prove? She had set herself up for more lashings, more sickening attacks. The pain from the cigarette continued until her body convulsed and she had blacked out.

  In comparison, some of the other acts he inflicted upon her were worse, and as if his ghost was in the room, exulting in his antagonising bouts, her cigarette welts stung. Holding her arm nearer to her body, Abbey sobbed quietly, tears flooding her face. The insecure, timid young woman had returned, lingering over her, ridiculing her into realising that she couldn’t survive like this. Everything was still so raw, so painful, and as she lay there, the hum of the blue haze sizzling in the background, Abbey felt incredibly small, a speck of dust hanging weightlessly upon a dying world. Where was her dad? She’d forgive him without a second thought, if only he just come to her now and rescue her from this existence, to tell her that everything will be alright again.

  Guilt is a powerful emotion, but Abbey wasn’t so sure she was in fact feeling guilty over the death of Stefan. It was incredibly easy, her body simply took over and during the incident she wasn’t thinking about anything. Her arms did all of the work. He could have been so easily made of paper, his life so fragile, that all Abbey needed to do was just tear the paper in half and then he was gone. No more. If it was only as simple for her own life, for surely death would be less painful. Abbey knew deep down however, that she wasn’t that lucky.

  I hope that I don’t wake up.

  Chapter Six. Shelter

  Abbey felt her shoulders rock up and down. It was amazing how, even with her eyes firmly shut, she could sense that there were two of them. Should she just pretend to be in a deep sleep, or should she run for it now? Whoever they were, they were bound to be up to no good. Abbey remained sill, allowing her hair to cover her face.

  “Is she dead?” she heard a man say, his voice uninterested and if she wasn’t mistaken, bored, too. Her shoulders shook once more. “No, don’t be silly. I think she’s just asleep.” Even though this man was obviously closer to her, his voice was barely a whisper, as if he was trying to be conscientious.

  “Look, who cares, man? Let’s just go, I’m hungry.”

  “We can’t just leave her here, Ryan.”

  “Sure we can. She’d never know we was even here.”

  “Stop being such an arse.” Abbey heard a hint of vexation in his voice. “Hey,” he turned back to her, murmuring gently. “Hey, miss.”

  Abbey heard footsteps approach, splintered wood creaking underneath the weight. She was surprised at how much she could hear clearly, it was as if with her sight not being able to process things, her sense of sound had magnified to accommodate.

  Clap. Clap. Clap.

  Abbey jumped at the sudden clatter, a sick feeling rumbling down her spine and into her stomach. “Wakey, wakey, miss.”

  “Ryan!” the young lad barked, pushing the other back into the tables.

  “Ok. Ok,” Ryan laughed hysterically. “It worked didn’t it?”

  “That’s not the point. Hey,” he fired back before helping Abbey to her feet. “Hey, I’m Tristan. This arse here is Ryan.”

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” Ryan nodded sarcastically, swinging his legs as he sat upon one of the tables.

  “What’s your name?” Tristan asked, crouching slightly to look up at her. She hadn’t realised she was staring at the floor.

  Abbey didn’t say anything. She eyed Tristan, who had placed his hand onto her arm. He had wavy, messy chocolate-coloured hair, except it seemed to be bejewelled with flecks of gold. His smile lit up his face and his plump cheeks gave him an affable appearance.

  “Erm,” Abbey choked, realising that she was staring at him a little too long. “What?”

  Ryan flung himself down from the stack of tables and approached her rather aggressively. “Me, Ryan. Him, Tristan. You?” He patted her arm patronisingly and she flinched, the cigarette burns stinging.

  “Hey, sorry –”

  “Ryan, stop being such a dick. Can’t you tell she’s scared?”

  Abbey’s head pounded and their argument only made it worse. She was also shocked with their sudden appearance. Ryan’s fair hair looked matted in the blue haze and his gilet was dusty, like he had been rolling around in sand. His eyes were also slightly too close together and he looked a little odd against Tristan’s innocent good looks.
/>
  “Oh, forget it, Tristan. I’m off. You stay and play hero for all I care. It’s a shame we don’t have a white horse with us, then you’d really look the part.”

  “Grow up, Ryan. What you being like this for?”

  “Erm … excuse me,” Abbey mumbled.

  The boys continued to argue. Abbey’s nervous disposition was quickly fading and she could feel the frustration build up. It was a strange sort of tension, so strange that she couldn’t pinpoint where it came from.

  Abbey wrenched herself in between the two boys. “Boys, stop this. Look, let’s just put the misunderstanding behind us, eh?” she urged, raising her eyebrows at Ryan. “Yes?”

  “OK,” he replied.

  “Good. I’m Abbey.” She smiled towards Tristan. “Did someone mention food? I’m ravenous!”

  Ryan laughed uproariously. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  Abbey shrugged. She was hungry, there was no point lying about it. In fact, it was the sole reason she had ventured inside the building in the first place. Food and survival was always on the top of her agenda – well, for now at least. Back at home, maybe that wasn’t always true. Despite resolving the bickering, Abbey felt somewhat shy again, as if she had acted out of character.

  “Come on, this way,” Ryan chuckled, advancing towards the door, his head shaking from side to side. Abbey followed, trying her best to avoid the wood and metal filings. She had slipped on some earlier, and despite looking completely harmless, they were in fact extremely slick. Whoever’s boots she was wearing, they certainly didn’t seem to have much grip on them. She forced the image of Rheanne from the cage opposite from her mind once again. She felt ashamed that she had made it out alive. It wasn’t fair that the other girls hadn’t.