Violet

Chapter 53: Less Than a Library

The next morning, I woke up to a bright room. My curtain was open and the sun was shining so much that it hurt my eyes. It was a beautiful day outside, but another bad day in my diary. I got up out of bed, eager to get to the library. I placed my two feet on the floor and as soon as I did, a sharp pain triggered throughout my entire left foot.

When I looked down, I was shocked to see a bandage covering my big toe. A white bandage, just wrapped around it. I slowly brought my foot up and let it rest on my thigh. With a pounding heart, I slowly unwrapped it. It took me a long time until I finally was able to get it off.

The toe on my left foot was missing. It was gone. Anger built up inside of me because I knew exactly who did this. I knew who had been doing this to me the whole time now. My father. I shook my head, wiped the tears from eyes, squeezed my sheets, trying my best not to explode. Why was this happening again? I thought I could gain some sort of kindness with my father, but here he was, doing this again. Whatever this was. I was slowly losing my confidence but thought of my mother and my freedom. I had to be strong. There was nothing I could do at this moment to get both of those things back. Patience was the only key.

I wrapped the bandage back around my missing toe to cover up the dry blood and what was only a stub on my toe. There was only a matter of time before my father would decide to use more of me. The thought was disturbing.

After my shower, I got dressed and decided to do some morning chores before I left. My father was nowhere to be seen. He usually stayed in his art room and came out around four in the afternoon. 

I dusted some parts of the house, watered our plants, and cleaned my father's car. I took out meat for dinner and chopped up vegetables then froze them. I moped most floors in the house and made sure that there wasn't a speck on the ground. After I was done with most of my chores, I washed my hands and waited in the living room. 

Shockingly, as soon as I sat down, my father walked in. "Smells great throughout the house. Are you and Abby ready?"

I looked around. "Abby's not even here."

My father smiled. "She's always here. Abby!" He called out.

When he called her name, Abby appeared in front of me in the blink of an eye. My eyes widened and she saw how shocked I was. "Amazing, isn't it?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

I smiled. "Actually, that was kind of cool. Can we get to the library that way?"

My father laughed. "Sorry dear," he sat next to me. "You would have to earn that power."

They were thirsty for me to join them. They could fly and make it rain ice cream, I still would not have joined them. "Okay," I laughed. "Then let's go."

"Abby will drive you," my father said. "I have work to do."

"Drive us?" I asked, wondering if my dad was serious about letting her drive.

***

The both of us sat in the backseat of the car while the wheel steered itself. Abby controlled it and talked to me as we dodged other cars and pedestrians. 

"I was thinking of painting my room blue when I go home. Would you like to come over and help?" Abby asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Dad may have some chores for me later."

Abby waved her hand and rolled her eyes. "He'll be cool with it," she steered the wheel left by just looking at it and we turned onto a highway. "What kind of books are you into?"

I chuckled. "Horror, can't you tell?" I lied. I was actually into romance books and books about teenage girls who get caught up in gangs then turn bad. However, in the end, they always find their way back on the right path after overcoming drugs or alcohol. Those are the kind of books I like and those are the ones my mom collected.

Abby was silent for a couple of seconds before replying to me. "I don't like horror books. I mean, it's usually the same thing. Girls with long hair crawling out from under the bed. If I wrote books, I'd defiantly write about the things your dad and I have seen."

I stared at her. "What have you seen?"

She smiled at me. "That's for you to find out."

The car suddenly slowed down. We turned into a small town called Greenwood. Abby let the car travel straight down until we reached a dead end. There was an empty street with an old looking house resting on dirt, surrounded by trees and garbage. 

"This is the library?" I said, stepping out of the car.

"Yes. It's very old," Abby said, staring at the place. The small house reminded me of an abandon trailer park. It looked very, very unwelcoming.

As we approached the door, an old lady limping on a cane waved at us. "My my," she flashed us a toothless smile. "I haven't had customers in almost three days."

I could only wonder why.