Annabelle's Angel
Author: UndeadBeauty

Chapter 4
Annabelle's Flight

Today is Anya's birthday. Annabelle thought happily, My best friend, ten today, double digits, almost a teenager!

Annabelle thought of this as she chopped more firewood for the upcoming night.

I'm almost a teenager too...

Annabelle thought of how she would look as a teenager, tall and skinny, not like now, with her short legs and round, pink cheeks. Annabelle would be beautiful, she could ahve her own fur coat, or a matryoshka doll of her own. (You know, the dolls with smaller ones inside?)

"Annabelle!" Mari called, her strong voice yanking her from her daydream.


"Come inside!"

Annabelle hurried inside, resting the axe against the wall by the door of the garden shed.

She turned around twice on the way back to the house, feeling like she was being watched, or followed...


"How have you been?" Mari asked, fixing some tea for her, and probably vodka for herself.

Annabelle knew to answer with one word. "Nice." Mari hated talking about anyone but herself.

"How have you been?" she asked again dryly.

Annabelle looked up from her handmade rag doll, "Fine."

Mari turned and shot daggers with her bright blue eyes. "Your teeth clattering kept me awake."

"I'm sorry." I say, returning my focus to the dark locks on my doll.

"What did you get for Anya?" she asks, taking a drink of her vodka and shivering.

"I was going to give her Marie."

She nods, my doll would make a nice gift.

We have a lot of money, lots of space in this big, empty house, but no one to share it with.

"When will you go?" she asks.

"The hour of three." I say simply, sipping my tea.

Mari nods again and drinks her vodka again, todding her head back sharply.

I watch her swallow, but look away quickly before the notices. I look at the clock and excuse myself.

"Fix your hair." Mari says from the kitchen. I nod to her and continue to walk back to my room.



Ugh, I must do something about myself...

I grab the brush Mama left for me in her will, my hands are still too small for the handle, I grip it with two hands and brush out my hair. Long golden brown curls, "You look like a doll." Mama would smile.

I grin to my reflection, I look like her, aside from my one imperfection, my eyes.

Mari grimaced at me from behind, where she looked at my refection.

"Those eyes." she sighs. "Are monsterous."

"I know." I whisper.

"Get going." she orders. I take Marie from my bed and leave, my worn down snow boots still not right on my feet.


"Hello Mrs. Asmiov." I grin. She looks down at me with a weak smile.

"Annabelle." she says gingerly, her two brown eyes boring into my mismatched ones.

"I was going to give Anya Marie, do you think she'd like her?" I ask as Mrs. Asmiov lets me inside.


"She always tells me how fun it is to dress her, and comb her hair."

"She'd love it."

I look up at her smile and know it's forced, I want to hide my eyes from her, from everyone.

She looks between them, her smile turning into a grimace.

I blink and look down at my feet.

"I'm sorry, Annabelle, everyone is in the living room."

I nod to her and run for Anya.


"Annabelle!" Anya cheers. I bring my head up and run into her, crying just a little bit.

She gasps at the doll in my hands. "Marie!"

"I wanted to give her to you." I say, wiping my eyes.

The doll has mismatched eyes, just like me, a brown and blue button sewn into her pale face.

"Thank you!" she screams, hugging me again. I smile to her and hug her back. When we seperate, her other friends stare at me in awe.

"What's wrong with her eyes?" one asks the other.

"I don't know,"

"That's scary!"

They all giggle among themselves, and I turn to Anya again, eyes wet.

She didn't notice, she's playing with Marie, curling her ribbon hair around her finger.  

Throughout the party, I try to ignore the girls, but it hurts.

There's a fork in my heart, wrapped round it like spagetti, and everyone's twisting it, pulling everything together in a tangled mess.

I'm sent over the edge when cake comes.

Before we sing happy birthday, the adults come inside, tossing their coats on the couches.

"Wow!" one says, smiling and drunk. "Look at this one!"

He leans in close to my face and breathes, liquor. I wince away from him, but others come.

"Look at 'er eyes!" the other says, swaying.

"What a horrible thing, I'm sorry little girl-" hiccup "About your disfigurement." hiccup.

I wince away again. "I'm not disfigured." I protest.

"Alright, alright." one laughs, a woman. "Pigs fly too you know." she sighs, looking at me.

"It looks a little gross..." the first man says. "Like God just threw two marbles in there and slapped on down here." he laughs, falling backwards onto the floor.

The other adults help him up, and I struggle to hold tears, like a glass under a faucet, my eyes are filling up fast.

"Look how short she is-"

"A miss-eyed elf!"

I finally cant hold them in anymore, they overflow, but still I try to hide them, bitimg on my lip till it bleeds.

I turn on a heel and run outside, I don't stop running, I pass my house, the park, the mail boxes.

I keep running and running until my lungs burn and eyes sting, frozen shut.

I fall and huddle against the fabric of my dress.

I cry here, where no one can see me. No one calls me weak. No one cares. I roll onto my back and lie there, looking up at the falling snow.

"Look 'ere." says someone. I turn my head and look at the man, a foreiner. "Who are you?"

I raise my brows.

"You speak English?"

I shake my head, that's the only English I know."

He smiles at me, why is he smiling?

He pulls at my arms, then grabs hold of my legs, pulling me into his car and strapping me into the passenger seat.

Uh oh. Mari says never to do this, especially not a man's car.

He puts a finger to his lips, I need to be quiet. I nod slowly. What does he want, who is he?

He hands me a piece of candy and smiles.

I suck on it quietly, looking straight ahead.

We stop on the edge of town, and he leads me into a clearing in the woods. Where are we? It's pretty out here. Mari would have liked the flowers...

I look behind me, where the man is toying with the bow on my dress, he must be tying it...

He tears the fabric away from me, and I stand naked.

I scream, and he covers my mouth, pushing me onto the snow coated flowers and holding my hands down.

"Niet! Niet!" I scream, (Niet= no)

I don't stop screaming until I feel it. Blood leaking from my body. I scream again, louder, and other voices answer.

I scream for help in every language I know, until someone comes, the man lets me go, and I run away from him, my legs on fire.

Only in my under-dress, a thin white fabric used to help keep me warm, I sprint as fast as I can.

Straight off the side of a bridge.

I slip under ice, my bare feet white almost instantly.

I yell again, and fall on the ice, my leg breaks, and a scream again.

"She's o'er there!" the man yells, the others chase after me.

What do they want?

I cry and try to escape, a hand in my hair tells me i'm too late. I'm hoisted up, "Get up!" one yells. "I can't understand you!" I yell, but they can't understand me either.

They kick my legs, the broken one hurts the most. Eventually they get tired and pull me up onto the ledge.

I'm slapped, and when one man tries to put a hand up my dress, feeling that I'm already not wearing panties, he smiles, and I push back on him, falling off the edge.




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