Hi all! Long time no see! This isn't an important chapter to this story, as it is complete, much like one of its two sequels, but I thought this might be nice. As the title states, below is the original draft of Abbernathy. Back ten years ago, when I spelled her name with one 'b' and the story was called, "A Girl and Two Cats," and I'd never written a novel and my dad had recently passed away and I thought about getting back into writing because I remembered loving doing it and desperately wanted to love it again. So here it is folks. A writer-hopeful's attempt at a novel. It's not great. But it definitely has the trademarks of what the story would eventually become - like Lucy's (though he's called Lulu here) vanity. Guess some things never change. :-) Hope you will all enjoy this glimpse into my writing journey and please don't mind how cringe it is. First drafts, and first attempts at novels, always are.

***

Our story begins with a little girl named Abernathy. But first, lets get something out of the way - Abernathy hated her name. And not just her first name, but her middle, second middle and last names.

She was an unlucky girl born into a wealthy family where long, ostentatious names were given as displays of wealth. So for our budding protagonist, that meant the curse of a bloated, overly complicated series of names.

Abnernathy Eustice Celeste Tallis.

What a frightful, awful name. So bad was it shortening it did not make it better. A jerk in Abby's class, having grown tired of her winning their games of kick ball, christened her Nat.

She hated the nickname almost as much as her full name.

A "Nat" was a bug. A disgusting, annoying bug that got squished beneath plenty of shoes in the summer rainy season. Abby was no such bug, she'd declared. And after making her disdain for the nickname known, the same boy that had given her the name, taunted her with it. So she gave him a swift, hard kick between the legs wiping forever the stain of that smug smile off his face.

This incident made the kids her age weary of her, and she, at only eleven, had grown equally wearisome of them. She had only two friends to speak of, a pair of twin black cats - Sebbi and Lulu. They, of course, weren't their full names, but abbreviations of them, as Abby had been six when the kittens appeared beneath the kitchen one stormy evening, and deciding that names like Sebastian and Lucien were too complicated, especially with her two front teeth gone, she gave them new, easier names.

Lulu loved his shortened name, while his younger brother very much so abhorred Sebbi, perhaps even as much as Abby hated being called Abernathy. But the cats couldn't communicate their approval or disdain to Abby, as barriers between humans and cats prevented such casual conversation, so Abby went around oblivious to why Sebbi thumped his tail whenever she called for him.

From the start, Lulu adored Abby. She had deep set big blue eyes and long silky brown hair and was well-mannered, all things considered. Most importantly, she showered Lulu with all her love, taking him in her arms for hours to brush his coat and adorn his fur with silk bows. He loved those bows. They emphasized his good looks and brought out his innate regality, and, if you asked his brother, also gave his innate vanity a chance to shine. In the mornings, he was served creamed chicken and milk for breakfast. Fish stew, sans onions, for lunch. And succulent spit-roasted turkeys for dinner. Every night, he had the honor of sleeping beside Abby in a pillow she had tailor-made for him. His life was, in every way, bliss.

Sebbi did not like Abby. She had taken his name and replaced it with nonsensical babble. A two-syllable name could hardly be considered a name, let alone one befitting the noble feline. she attacked him with frilly, slinky things like bows and collars and things he ripped to shreds with his claws. She chased him down with that awful bristled creature and attempt to dig it along his spine and down his tail. He was not allowed to knock vases off from where they stood, or slash the curtains, or dig up the vegetable gardens. And the roundest of the household maids always chased him with brooms and threatened him with bath!

His life was, in the truest sense, hell.

Abby had not meant to make his life hell. One day, sensing Lulu's warm body beside hers, she asked him, "Why does Sebbi hate me?"

In response, Lulu reassuringly nudged her shoulder as if meaning to say, he doesn't hate you though what Lulu was really thinking was more along the lines of, that stupid worthless cat. He's probably up in the woods hiding because he's just now realized how stupid he is. When I see him, I'm going lick his fur until it touches the clouds.

"Does he think I favor you?" she continued asking. "It may seem like it, but that's only because he won't come near me." Did I do something to him? Did he not get enough chicken at last night's dinner? Perhaps the milk had spoiled. No matter how many questions Abby asked the only conclusion she could draw was that Sebbi simply hated her. And that had made all her days thereafter feel hellish.

One morning in late fall, a month before Abby's twelfth birthday, she and Lulu were awoken by Abby's attendant, Naomi. Naomi was a stumpy woman with a thick neck, stern expression and storm-cloud grey hair. But she'd seen to Abby since Abby was born, and always spoke with kindness in her voice; today was no different.

"Miss," Naomi said softly, "your father's brought a friend of his. And he's got a son about your age. Your father wishes for you to join them for breakfast."

"But it's so early, Mimi." Abby turned on her side, Lulu following suit.

"Miss, please," she shook the slumbering girl, the blanket sliding off her shoulders. "It's what he wishes of you."

"Guess I can't say no then." She gave a yawn, stretched her hands overhead, and blinked. Naomi came into sharp relief. Beside her, Lulu gave his own yawn, his golden eyes trained on the intrusive maid.

" 'fraid not," Mimi smiled, and warmth, in the form of several wrinkles, radiated out from it. "I'll get the bath ready."

When Abby and Lulu were alone, she turned to face him. He had his face sandwiched between his paws, as he was mid-bath.

"Lulu," she plopped her head on her hand, "want to go in my place?"

He gave her his typical meow, which wasn't so typical, but humans were ill-equipped to discern the vocal ticks of the feline variety. If Abby had known what his every meow meant, she would have known his response was not on your life. And that it'd been accompanied by an eye roll, so much as much as a cat can eye roll.

"Fine." She harrumphed, arms crossing her chest. "I get it. I don't even want to go."

Second only to her name, she hated socializing the most. It was filled with rules she never followed and protocol she never remembered. She never curtsied at the right times, and always asked too blunt of questions. She tripped over the dresses Mimi made her wear and stuffed her face at the buffet tables. Dancing was a torture she was sure she'd never master.

The moment Mimi came back, Abby would be forced to bathe which meant shampooing her hair, washing behind her ears, using both the regular soap and crème soap, cleaning her face, and smelling like a citrus grove. Then she'd get ready. Wearing a dress she hated, shoving her toes into shoes too pointed, and being corseted until her ribs were close to snapping. Knowing the torment that was to come, Abby closed her eyes, and enjoyed the morning sun beside her favorite companion.

*

"Miss, this ribbon doesn't match your dress," Naomi said, wrist deep in Abby's hair. She frowned in front of the oval mirror, lifting strands of hair and twisting them around before dropping them and frowning more.

"Then," Abby said, scratching the lace sleeve of her dress, "match my dress to the ribbon -it stays."

Abby would only take a stern tone with Mimi when it was about that ribbon. It was Abby's most prized possession that held a significance more valuable than all the money in the world.

"Very well." Mimi resumed pinning up the girl's hair, being careful to not upset the delicately placed red ribbon. Lulu watched from a distance as she wriggled and whined. His heart also swelled with pride when Abby refused to remove her ribbon. It was a sign of their closeness and knowing that he was that important to her, made him love Abby even more. He moved from the spot on her bed to her side, than jumped up onto her lap where she began to stroke his fur, as she often did when she was getting ready.

"Miss, no! That cat will shed on your dress!"

"If he does, his fur will only make this dress less dreadful." Lulu let out a loud and content purr which in cat speech meant, you tell the old cow! Clearly, she has no fashion sense. Why, fur this fine could turn an empty sack into a gown fit for a queen.

By the time Mimi had finished all the preparations, Abby was starving. She could hear her stomach growls echoing in her ears.

"Miss, you look lovely."

"I would hope so." Abby tugged the fabric of her dress; it gave no yield, sticking to her like honey. She grimaced. "You took so long, I'm starving. I might just die."

"Then you'll make a lovely corpse." Mimi smiled and Abby hugged the woman tightly.

Abby walked slowly into the dining hall. The table had been set with newly polished silver candelabras and their fancy dish ware. The fluted crystal cups adorned each dish at the top while the many forks, knives and spoons adorned their sides. Abby made her way to her spot by her father and let Reynhold seat her. Lulu followed closely at her heels and jumped up on her lap to get a better look at the breakfast spread. It was a magnificent spread, he thought, and Abby's stomach growled in agreement. There were homemade jams and jellies for the toasted breads -no doubt the work of Mimi. Her jams were always the best. Fresh chicken eggs had been cracked open and scrambled for soufflés and egg pies. Persimmons, lemons, oranges, and apples were piled high in baskets at each end of the table. But what caught Abby's eye, and Lulu's were the meats. There was bacon and maple-glazed hams, sausages with fresh sage, turkey breast basted in apple butter and shredded chicken. Abby could not wait to eat.

"I hate cats," said a stern, unfamiliar voice. Abby turned in its direction. A pale boy with black hair had spoken. He looked miserably down at his plate, lip curled.

"Fair enough." She shrugged and moved around the table opposite him. "I hate you," Abby replied coolly, avoiding the boy's eyesight. Lulu looked up to deliver an equally cool yet emphatic "Meow!" meaning, you and me both, dear.

"Abernathy Eustice! That was rude. Apologize to our guest." Her father's deep voice bellowed through the hall. Abby winced. She always knew when her father was mad at her -it was the only time he used her full name or at least, half of her full name.

"Please forgive me for speaking outright, sir." With that, Abby bowed her head slightly, feigning remorse. Luckily, it was enough to placate her father.

"Culpepper, your daughter did nothing more wrong than my son." A man with kind blue eyes and a sparse crop of white hair on his rounded head smiled Abby's way. Her father's work associate? Abby thought.

"And you, young Abernathy, my dear, I apologize for my son."

She shook her head. "It's quite alr--"

"Vicrum,"the man slapped the boy's shoulder and he dropped a spoonful of red melon onto his plate. "introduce yourself, boy." At his father's command, the boy stood up and extended a thin, bony hand Abby's way.

"Sorry about that, Miss Abernathy. I meant no offense. Allow me the privilege of introducing myself to such a lovely creature," he emphasized creature on purpose, Abby thought, " as you. My name is Vicrum Hudginns, son of Alfren Hudginns the Second, from the city of Ean."

He ended his brief introduction without ever taking a breath, like he was bulldozing through a wall intent to get over it as soon as possible. With a rigid bow, he returned to his seat. Abby nodded while slyly slipping Lulu a piece of bacon under the table before getting to her own breakfast. While scooping a few heaps of parfait onto her plate, she eyed the boy across from her. Vicrum had handsome features ; light brown eyes, strong yet soft, black hair. He was tall and lean like Abby. But he hated cats. Only an idiot would hate cats. Stabbing a piece of mapled ham and hefting it to her mouth, she decided she would call Vicrum, "Crum" -as she had an overwhelming urge to flick him away like he were one.

Breakfast was delicious. The same could not be said of the conversation which revolved around her father's work. Not much about it could Abby understand. Occasionally though, Crum's dad would ask Abby something, and Abby, would answer the way any wealthy family's daughter would.

"And what's that fellow's name?" he asked, pointing a buttered knife at Lulu.

"Lulu. Actually, it's Lucien but I've called him Lulu since I can remember." Abby was always most enthusiastic when talking about her cats. \

Her dad interjected, "She couldn't pronounce his name when she was little." He flashed her a smile, as he did when nostalgia gripped him so firmly. Heat flooded Abby's cheeks.

"Lulu. That's quite a name. I like it. Well, then, Lulu, it is a pleasure to meet you." The man, who Abby'd learned was Alfren, grinned and nodded in the cat's direction. Lulu stopped eating his turkey, a hard task for any feline no matter how civilized to achieve, sat up on the table, and bowed.

Laughter exited the man's mouth. "Why that cat is quite something! Lulu is a perfect name for it." Abby and Lulu both loved when he was being complimented. The pair felt a similar swelling of pride in their hearts.

"He has a brother, Sebbi. But Sebbi likes his alone time in the maple tree out front." Although human ears couldn't tell a difference in her tone, Lulu, having cat hearing, could tell that Abby's pitch always went down whenever she talked of Sebbi. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her directly, but it still hurt her deep in her heart that time Sebbi had rejected her love.

"Was that that mangy creature that hissed at me on my way in?" Crum asked. More and more, Abby felt the desire to flick him.

"He's not mangy!" She stood, tossing her napkin onto the table. "He's lovely! And he's mine!" Having had her fill, she rounded on her heel, Lulu at her back following her from the hall. Once they were back in her bedroom, Lulu looked up to see his beloved's flushed face holding back tears.

"I'm so angry, Lulu! How dare he... that little Crum! I will flick him! Flick him all day!"

Abby plopped down on her bed and began to remove the shoes that had been torturing her feet.

Lulu watched her, confounded. Though he was proficient in human speech and mannerisms, he didn't understand what Abby meant when she said she'd flick him. That vile black-haired boy had been too big to be flung. But what wasn't lost on him was the emotion. The one that had forced Abby to her feet and storm away from a table of food. Only one emotion had enough pull to do that, and it just so happened, he'd felt similarly.

That horrid boy had insulted his brother. Sebbi was a lot of things - unruly and disrespectful and dishonest with himself. He'd treated Abby horribly but he was still Lulu's brother and Lulu loved him. It had been natural he'd felt anger at the insult. And surely, that had been what Abby had felt too. As he watched Abby wrestling with the strings of her corset, he noticed her cheeks were wet. The tears she could no longer hold back had fallen. He looked up and cocked his head slightly at her -the universal cat sign for, "What's wrong?"

"I-I'm sorry Lulu. It's just... it's just that every time I mention Sebbi's name I get like this. Ha. I wonder why." She wiped a tear away with her lace covered hand as Lulu climbed up in her lap, purring a sweet, soft purr trying to comfort her as he always did when those traitorous tears fell from her.

"Thanks, Lulu. At least I have you. I love you. Always." Abby took the cat in her arms gently, as she had learned to do after the incident with Sebbi, and squeezed him slightly. He let out a "Meow" that even one unlearned in cat speech could understand. It meant, I love you too.

The truth was easy to convey like that.

The room returned to silence. Lulu sat in her lap, relishing in each trek Abby's hand took along his back and down his tail. With eyes half-closed he offered up a prayer - and yes, cats do pray, just not like you and I and not to the same gods. Please let Sebbi have heard Abby defending him. Please.

He repeated this prayer, over and over again. Even though he didn't consider himself the religious type. Honestly, he didn't even know if cats were all that religious, but in that moment he needed something to exist that could guide them all, and bring Sebbi back to Abby where he belonged.

Luckily, the gods had been listening that day.