By the time they stopped at some rundown gas station three hours down the road, Abigale's legs were cramping up. While her mother filled the Jeep with gas, Abigale wandered inside the convenience store, partly to stretch her limbs and partly to pursue a bathroom. A guy no older than thirty sat behind the counter. When she stepped inside the store, he flashed her a grin. She smiled back, even though a shiver ran down the length of her spine at the sight of his stained teeth and beady eyes.

"I was just wondering where the washrooms were?" Her voice was edged with a nervousness she couldn't contain.

The man pointed to the opposite end of the convenience store, his smile never wavering. "Down the hallway and to the right, sweetheart."

She tried not to look repulsed by the pet name and thanked him before nearly sprinted to the back of the store. After scanning over the back wall, Abigale finally found the hallway he'd directed her to. When she pushed through the door to the single unisex bathroom, she immediately wrinkled her nose. It smelled worse than her father's breath after eating her grandmother's deviled eggs – which were always full of onions. After pinching her nose with her fingertips, Abigale reluctantly stepped inside and locked the door.

***

A few minutes later, Abigale was out of the washroom. The stench of the backed-up toilet still lingered in her nostrils, giving her the desire to gag. Walking down the potato chip aisle on her way to the front of the store, she grabbed some Doritos, and approached the counter. As she fished for her wallet in the pocket of her jeans, the man ran her chips through the till.

He told her the amount in an overly-friendly voice and she hastily handed him the exact change. However, instead of grabbing the change from her outstretched hand, his fingers latched onto her wrist, pulling her forward. "You look a little young to be wandering around by yourself, girly."

Her heart pounded as she attempted to yank her hand away. She glanced down at the hand that wrapped around her wrist and then up to his chest, where his metal-plated name tag shone in the fluorescent lighting.

Markus, she noted.

She looked back up to his face. His eyes scanned her from the other side of the counter, and goose bumps began to crawl up the arm he squeezed.

"Let me go," Abigale said, her voice quavering.

"Are you here alone? That's not very smart of you," he said, squeezing her wrist tighter. Panic rose from the deepest part of her soul as she was jerked forward, her ribs slamming against the counter.

She winced, using all of her strength to pry her arm free. "I said, let me go!"

"Abigale?" In the same instant that her mother walked into the store, the man released her wrist. Taking advantage of the freedom, Abigale grabbed her chip bag and raced out of the store, right past her mother, whom of which shot the store attendant a look of silent fury.

She saw everything, Abigale realized with relief as she rubbed the spot under her ribs where the counter had jabbed.

Instead of becoming a witness to what her mother was about to say to the slime ball named Markus, Abigale climbed in the Jeep's passenger seat and locked the door. She sat there in silence, the only source of noise being from her Doritos bag, which made crinkling sounds in her shaking hands.

Abigale stared at the set of glass doors – which were covered with posters of all kinds. If her mother hadn't walked in, Abigale wasn't sure what could've happened. She'd seen enough horror movies to know that anything that could have happened would not have been good for her health.

After what seemed like an eternity, her mother climbed into the Jeep and stuck the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and they sped off to the intersection.

"Mom?"

"You don't have to say anything. I saw it all from the pump," her mother said, shaking her head.

Abigale's stomach churned. She couldn't stop thinking about the employee. His beady eyes and sweaty palms would definitely give her nightmares that night.

"What did you say to him?" Abigale asked as they pulled back onto the highway.

Her mother glanced her way before replying, "It doesn't matter, Abigale. It's done."

"Please tell me?" Abigale's curiosity had won the best of her. She hadn't seen the type of anger that her mother had displayed in a long time, and it made her nervous. "I want to know."

Her mother's lips twisted into a frown. "I called him out on it. I threatened to contact the police if I ever saw him again."

"Why didn't you call them now?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to bring attention to something as petty as this when we're moving to place two-hundred miles from here? You'll never see him again anyway. It'd be more of a hassle than it's worth to get the authorities involved."

Abigale leaned back in her seat. "Yeah, I guess when you put it that way . . ."

Her mother looked at her with slight worry evident in her pupils. "Are you okay?"

Quickly nodding, Abigale threw her chip bag up on the console, which no longer looked appetizing. "I'm fine. He only grabbed my wrist." But the way my stomach is churning feels like he did more than that.

"He still laid his hands on you, Abigale. It's okay to be shaken up about it."

"I said I'm fine," Abigale snapped, turning her head towards the window and away from her mother's sympathetic gaze. "I'm going to have a nap, okay? Wake me up when we get there."

Her mom never replied.

***

Startled by the sound of a car horn, Abigale jolted awake and nearly hit her head on the Jeep's roof.

"Shit!" she said, rubbing her head with her shaky hand. Her mother gave her a disapproving look. Abigale knew what that look meant, so she apologized for swearing and turned to the window, where the first glimpse of Arcata was coming into view.

The mass of tall trees slowly transformed into rows upon rows of charming petite homes. At first glance of Arcata, Abigale knew that she wanted to run as far away from it as she possibly could.

"It's so beautiful here," her mother commented, looking around at the emerging department stores. "Don't you think?"

"Yeah," Abigale muttered under her breath. "It's wonderful."

If her mother wanted to say something, she didn't. Instead, she completely ignored what Abigale had said and continued to drive down the road, seeming about as delighted as a bookaholic in a library. Abigale pulled out her phone and pretended to play on an app. She didn't want to look around just yet. It was too depressing.

Tiffany hadn't texted Abigale since she'd left San Francisco, and Abigale figured she probably wouldn't hear from her best friend for a long while. And she didn't blame her one bit. If the roles were reversed, she would do the same, but the silence still made her feel down.

A few minutes later, Abigale's mother pulled into the driveway of a two-storey home that looked much larger than their small one-storey in San Francisco. It was a simple home, with tan siding and windows trimmed in a dark shade of brown. The wooden front door had a frosted glass pattern cut into the center. Like Tiffany's, Abigale noticed.

"Is this it?" Abigale asked, and stuffed her phone into her back pocket.

Her mother nodded and flashed her a bright smile. "Yup! Do you like it?"

Abigale shrugged. "It's nice."

Abigale knew her answer wasn't what her mother was looking for, but she didn't want to lie and say it was the best house she'd ever seen. It was definitely nicer than their last one, but she wasn't about to say that out loud. She didn't want to give her mother the impression she was happy with the move. She wasn't, and that would never change.

The two climbed out of the car. Abigale caught sight of the U-Haul truck down the street, slowly edging closer to the house. Abigale turned towards the house again. The U-Haul truck was just another ugly reminder of what'd occurred in the past few days, and she knew she was going to be happier when it was gone.

"Why don't you go inside? I'll talk to the driver about where I want all the boxes, okay?"

Abigale nodded, and her mother threw her a set of keys. "The silver one should unlock the door," her mother said, smiling softly.

Instead of returning the smile, Abigale turned towards the house and walked up the concrete steps. She didn't want to know how much this place cost her mother, or how they were able to afford it.

Fumbling with the keys, she heard a door slam. Someone from the house beside her had just walked outside and was heading in Abigale's direction.

Great, she thought to herself. Friendly, over-helpful neighbours.

________________________________________________________

One more chapter! Be sure to follow me on my social media platforms for updates on the publishing of "Delusions"!!!!

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Amy Crandall

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