As the Night Unfolds

Abi had always liked the dark. At night every soul looks the same, every house identical to its neighbor. Darkness wraps itself around the world and offers an escape from sight, whereas there are few things in this world that can hide you from the cruel sun. After a school day chock full of frustration and degradation Abi would enter the night an equal to all others who inhabited it. Each night she would creep slowly out of her house and jog silently down the broken asphalt road towards the neighborhood park. There she would watch the owls circle the outskirts of the trees in search of mice and bats as she lay comfortably on the dewy grass.
To say she had experienced an uneven childhood was an understatement. Abi’s mother had been a Russian Jew fleeing persecution, bearing with her a mind full of troubles and Abi in her womb. She entered the United States two months before Abi’s birth and had quickly settled down with a well-off automotive worker in the outskirts of Detroit. Abi had no idea who her biological father had been, but her adoptive father she had loved dearly. It was he who taught her to tie her shoes and ride a bike, bestowing love and patience like she was his own. As for Abi’s mother, she was aloof, her life experiences making it difficult for her to love. Natalie Dresden, formally Natasha Shapiro, had barely escaped Russia with her life. In the days following the breakup of the Soviet Union frustrated citizens targeted the Jews as a release of their anger and fear. As a child she had been beaten in the schoolyard for a religion she had no faith in, squinting beneath the punches and slaps she had witnessed the faculty watch on without a care. Natalie’s home life was no better, whenever her mentally ill father found bruises on his daughter’s body he would add to them, claiming little Natalie was a slut. At eighteen Natalie had found herself pregnant and mustered up enough money to smuggle herself out of Russia. What little information Natalie’s daughter knew of her mother she had received from her adoptive father Philip Dresden. Natalie had never wanted to raise her daughter with violence, but shortly after her birth she had found she had unwittingly become the father she still had nightmares about. Since then she had left Abigail’s raising to Philip, a practical stranger she had no feelings towards.
Philip Dresden was a patient, loving man. He had met Natasha Shapiro in a bar he frequented often after work. Slightly intoxicated and blatantly pregnant she had opened up to him about her troubles. In a random act of kindness Philip had offered his house as a hideout for Natasha until she could get her bearings in the States. But once he held the newly born Abigail in his arms he had felt a flow of love towards the innocent child. A few days after he had married Natasha and she took the name Natalie Dresden. While Abi was reciting her first words and learning to walk Natalie was locked up in her bedroom battling her inherited inner demons. While Philip was alive Abi hadn’t seen much of her mother, she was just a dark figure Abi saw gazing down at her from the top floor window as she played in the yard.
When Abi was sixteen Philip died of a heart attack, leaving her in the care of her delusional mother. Speaking in rough English, wrinkled despite her youth, and with ink-black hair cropped tightly to her skull, Natalie began to interact with her teenage daughter. Despite the years, and all she had heard from Philip, Abi was unprepared to deal with her sick mother. At random hours of the night Natalie would storm into her daughter’s room with violence in her wake, always claiming that Abi was unclean. After a sound beating Natalie would drag her daughter out by her hair and throw her into a cold shower, threatening death unless she cleaned the smell of sex off her bruised skin. In order to attend class Abi applied a thick layer of concealer and wrapped herself in jeans and a sweat shirt. Her studies suffered, as did her social life. During lunch Abi would sneak into a cold bathroom stall and count away the minutes. The only reason Abi survived the years was her nightly escapes into the dark. Once her mother had passed out with a bottle of whiskey Abi left the house and entered into her element.