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Chapter 438 Chapter 438 You poor thing. . .

"Oh–"

Abby's heart was still pounding; "Okay- that's it! You need to get checked! You need to see a doctor!"

Realization suddenly set into Dracula's eyes. A thin, knowing smile formed on his lips- lighting up his face;

"Oh Abby," he began- tactfully avoiding her last statement; "Did I scare you?

"Of course you did! I could have punched you! You know how crazy my reflexes are!"

The old man chuckled. Stroking his glorious white beard, he slowly leaned back into the hammock;

"Come on child- don't be absurd. You wouldn't hit your grandfather–"

Abby's mouth opened. She unsheathed her tongue- about to unleash a storm of nagging words on him. But she clenched her fists- slowly walking back from that cliff;

"Grand father," she said- through gritted teeth; "You've been napping during the day. . .you can't sleep at night. . .and you're clearly having nightmares. . .all I'm saying is– maybe you need to get yourself checked out? These are the signs of insomnia. It's a medical condition that–"

He held up his hand;

"I know you're not about to explain sleeplessness to me child," he dropped his palm- folding back into his other hand on his chest; "I get it- you're worried. But I'm not going to see a doctor over something as trivial as this. . ."

"BUT–"

"But nothing," he cut her off; "All I need to do is simply catch up on some beauty sleep– that's what you youth say these days right?"

A mischievous smile stretched his lips, but only one side.

Abby was not amused. This was serious.

But he was still joking around.

"Oh come off it, you're supposed to be happy that your grand father's a night owl. . .you yourself could do with some late night studying yourself. . ."

Abby grimaced.

She already studied sixteen hours during the day- waking up as early as four o'clock.

Dracula was putting it rather sweetly- but in essence, he was simply letting her know he could extend it into the night- if she pressed him any further.

"Apologies grandfather," she bowed slightly- "I was simply looking out for you."

"You worry too much child," Dracula said- closing his eyes; "But you're just a teenager, you should spend more time reading. . ."

Frustration seeped further and further into her- tensing her shoulders, and forcing her palms into balled fists. Struggling to control her ragged breathing, she turned around- slowly, and mumbled under her breath-

"I won't be a teenager for ever. . ."

"What was that now?" Dracula called out.

"Nothing sire. . ." she muttered, slinking away with drooping shoulders- in a fog of helplessness.

...........................

'meowwww. . .meoww. . ."

Abby's head jerked upwards- tilting towards the sound.

It came again- soft as silk- tugging on her heart's strings. She stopped dead in her tracks- sweeping her round eyes around- looking for it. It was noon- and the summer sun was high and mighty in the sky- covering the landscape with a shower of golden rays.

Abby was outdoors- heading back from the water fountain at the park.

Her ears twitched slightly- as she turned to her left- searching for the purring cat. The sound?came again- weak, helpless- and fragile. At once, Abby's right foot slid off the paved path- into the green lawn.

Crouching slightly at her knees, with her books pressed to her chest, she entered the sea of green- veering farther and farther away from the main path.

'meowww. . .'

She saw it.

A ball of white fur- barely the size of her open palm. It was moving- nudging against the body of another bigger cat- probably its mother. Abby's heart melted at the sight. She stopped- taking a moment. . .

'Awww, that's so cute. . .'

The white kitten's eyes were glossy black- almost as though it were weeping.

'Wait–' Abby's eyebrows huddled together; '–the mother cat. . .is it. . .is it dea–?'

She gasped when it hit her.

The mother cast was dead. Its corpse laid on the grass- below the shade of the cypress tree- curled in a ball as if it had died in its sleep. The kitten moved slightly- and Abby caught the sight of a large mouse next to it.

It was a big fuckin' mouse. Super beefy- nearly half the size of the kitten itself. It was also white, and also very dead.

'You poor kitten–' Abby shook her head; '–you killed the mouse all by yourself didn't you?'

As if in answer, the kitten slunk its head away from its mother- and turned towards its prey. Its tiny mouth opened- and bit down on the ear of the deceased mouse- then slowly, with its head bobbing between its shoulders, it began to drag it towards its 'sleeping' mother.

meowww. . .meeeoww. . .

It cried.

Standing twelve feet away, with her books clutched over her chest, Abby could feel her heart melting. Her big round eyes began to moisten- sending lines of tears trickling down the sides of her face.

meowww. . .

The kitten was calling its mother. Abby could almost interpret the kitten's wailing- like it was telling its mother to wake up- to eat- to be impressed by the mouse it had just caught.

When it stood on its hind legs- and rolled its front legs on the back of the bigger cat, Abby's throat bobbed up and down.

"You poor thing. . ." she whispered; "Can't you see? Your mama's gone."

She said it quietly- as if afraid that the kitten would actually hear her and become heart broken. Gripped by compassion, Abby's left foot slid forward- seemingly on its own accord. With her vision starting to blur, she crouched lower- heading towards the trunk of the tree;

'Don't worry little kitty- I got you– I'll be your new mama now. . .'

But Abby was not as stealthy as she thought. Creeping forward, head low, and neck craned, her left foot struck something in the grass.

snap!

SHIT– It was a twig. Maybe a branch.

But to the overly sensitive ears of the kitten, it cracked louder than thunder in the open sky. The kitten's head jerked immediately- turning its tender neck towards the intruder- opening its glossy black eyes- and twitching its tender whiskers. Abby's eyes draped down another tear. She bit down her lower lip-

As she and the kitten locked eyes, Abby wept inwardly.

She recognized that look.

Shit- she was that look itself.

It was helplessness. It was loneliness. It was innocence- the kind that came with not knowing how cruel the world was. And Abby had worn that look the very day she came home to find her parents' bodies had been blown apart- decimated along with their beautiful home.

All because of some nasty alchemist experiment.

"You poor thing. . ." she squeaked; "You poor, poor, thing. . ."

She wasn't even aware her books had slipped.

"It's gonna be okay. . ." she whispered softly- edging towards the kitten; "Your mama's taking a long nap. . .she won't wake up for a while. . .but you'll be fine with me. . ."

Under the broad shadow of the cone shaped tree, Abby found herself choking on the last two sentences. Eight years ago, nobody had said that to her. And it was all she had wanted to hear.