Unfinished

“You need to get the hell out of here! You are a worthless whore! I can’t believe we took you in! Get out! GO!” The door was slammed shut behind me as the tears left stream marks down my face. All of my belongings were thrown out of the house, spread out in between the perimeter of the lawn.

I quickly collected what I could, throwing it into the trunk of my old beat up car as my life started to fall apart. Where was I supposed to go? I have no close friends, no family. I was alone, abandoned. Jumping into my car, I sped off down the road. Driving aimlessly, wondering what in the world was to come next.

~~~~~~~~

Unpacking the few things that I have brought with me, wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. I found a house, it was old and abandoned but I was lucky to get a really great deal on it. Plus, all the furniture came with it. Apparently, whoever lived in it last just up and left everything here.

This little town that I have found myself in is about 3 hours from where I use to live with my adoptive family. I decided it was a chance for me to start over fresh. No one knows who I am or where I come from. They will just get to know me - Abby Wilson.

Looking around at the house, I cringe slightly. It needed a deep clean and some new paint. There were layers of dust on everything, cobwebs all over the place, but the majority of the furniture was in really great shape. the living room has a huge flat screen television and floor to ceiling windows that looks out to a beautiful lake, that has a wooden dock. The entire house has beautiful hardwood floors throughout the rooms. The kitchen is graced with all black appliances and smooth ash grey countertops.

There were 3 bedrooms and 3 full baths, one being connected to the master bedroom that also has a huge walk-in closet. This will be a gorgeous home once I get enough money to fix up the porch, clean the gutters, paint and get rid of all of this dust. At least I can do something about the dust now.

Pulling on a pair of black short shorts, and a pink sports bra, I tie my brown hair up into a ponytail. I am ready to clean this place spotless. Working my way through, I took note of all of the pictures hanging up of a lovely family of four. The parents were standing behind the children, one boy and one girl. The dad had a hand on the daughter’s arm and the mother was resting her hand on the boy’s shoulder. The boy was older, maybe 18 or so, while the girl looked to be about 14. They were all smiling brightly but the little girl. Her smile seemed to be fake, and she had a faraway look in her eyes.

I decide on taking down all of the pictures. I can store them in the shed out back until I either make my way to a goodwill or maybe I can even find the new address of the family to ship them the pictures. Once that task was complete, the walls looked completely bare. Shrugging, I know eventually I will fill it up. I will go shopping once I get some extra cash and get some nice wall decor to liven up the place.

Once I was out of breath, and thought the house is presentable enough, I plop down on the couch, letting out a small sigh at the immediate relief my feet felt. I can’t believe I own a home, by myself no less. Smiling, I look around. It was a gorgeous house. Could use a paint update though, maybe a nice brown, or blue instead of the light yellow that covered the walls.

A knock on the door startles me from my thoughts causing me to jump up, walking to the door to see who it could be. Upon opening it, I noticed quite a few people standing there, looking curious. Feeling all of their eyes on me, I quickly looked down, noticing that I should have put a shirt on. Too late now. “Um, hello?” I question.

There in front stood an older lady, maybe in her late 40s, that answers me back. She has her red hair up in twists and she is wearing more makeup than a drag queen but she didn’t look half as good as they do. She looks more like a clown; her eyebrows are drawn on in a bright red color as her eyes were done up in pink shadow. Her lips are severely overdrawn and she was holding a cigarette. “Hello, dear. We were all just curious about who our new neighbor is. No one has lived in this house for years! My name is Marge, this is my husband Benny, we live in the house across the street.”

I nod, trying not to wrinkle my nose as she puffs her smoke in my direction. “Oh, nice to meet you. My name is Abby.” I talk to the crowd as they all start listing off their names. I nod in acknowledgment, knowing there was no way I would ever remember their names. Marge moves closer to me, lowering her voice as she spoke.

“We didn’t think this house would sell after what happened.” I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. She lets out an obnoxious gasp before moving even closer, I lean back slightly without her noticing. “You mean the Realtor didn’t tell you? Why, a little girl killed herself in this very house! Right in her room, her parents were so devastated they left right after the funeral!”

Licking my lips, I did not know that. Regardless, it’s not like I have any other options on where to go. All the other homes that I looked at was way out of my price range. Stuttering, I reply. “W-wow, that’s awful.” Clearing my throat, I quickly grab my purse and a sweatshirt, making sure my keys were in it before shutting and locking the door behind me. “If you all could excuse me, I have to, uh- go get some dinner. It was nice meeting you.”

I watch as they all slowly walk back to their own homes, before I scurry over to my car, hopping in. I don’t know where I am going, it is only like six in the evening, but I am hungry. I also want to get away from that group as fast as I could. Driving down the road, I notice a little restaurant. It is a cute little diner that, judging from the cars out front, is packed full.

Parking and getting out, I walk in. Noticing that there is a help wanted sign in the window, maybe I could apply. Looking around, it was done up in the 60s themes. Checker patterns and an old jukebox in the far corner. Sitting at the bar, I scan the menu carefully.

An older woman, probably around 50, with a pastel pink skirt that hung to her knees and a white blouse tucked neatly into it with black words ‘Dion’s Diner’ written across it. Stopping in front of me, she questions, “Hey doll, you ready to order?”

I smile politely back at her as I nod my head. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries, with a vanilla milkshake, please.” She writes my order down on her pad, before she looks at me, giving me a kind look. Propping her hand on her hip, she tilts her head at me.

“You aren’t from ’round here are ya? My name is Shirley, this is my husband’s diner.” She seems like a kind woman. I could tell. Her accent also giving me a warm feeling, a feeling of home? Of belonging? I couldn’t quite understand why I fell so taken with her.

“No, ma’am, I’m not. My name is Abby, I just moved here. So, if your husband is the owner, are you the person to talk to about an application to work here?” Nodding her head enthusiastically, she hollers over her shoulder. Calling 0ut for Dion. An older man, who I’m assuming is Dion, came strutting out of the back office. He has a long white beard and kind brown eyes.

“Yes, Darlin’?” He questions, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, staring at her with love shining bright in his eyes. Motioning to me with her head, he turns his attention to me before returning his questioning gaze to her.

“This is Abby. She is new to town and she will be workin’ here from now on.” Turning her attention back to me, she smiles warmly. “Can you start tomorrow?” Eyes wide, I agree quickly. Shaking the hand that Dion stuck out for me.

“Thank you. I’m grateful. Uh- but don’t you need to interview me? Call references and what not?” Dion let out a chuckle before leaving Shirley and me to continue talking. She shook her head, grinning brightly.

“No doll, I can tell a good worker when I see one.” She winks at me before leaving to place my order. Well that went surprisingly well. Maybe my luck is looking up after all. Just maybe.