Oh, Abigail

A dark green Mini Cooper crushes snow under its wheels as it trudges up the windy path through thick evergreens. The car struggles as it approaches a steep incline. The tires spin, packing down the snow and creating deep wells to trap the car.

Abigail, a 27 year old girl with shoulder length black hair and deep teal eyes, climbs out of the car to examine the mess she’s put herself in. She always puts herself into predicaments. The latest predicament being her car stuck in the middle of the woods in mid-February. The sun was starting to go down behind the trees.

“I’m going to get murdered. Good job, Abi.” She murmured while her teeth shredded the cuticles of her dried fingers.

Abigail stopped to examine her nails. Acrylic shaped into claws adorned with black; red and pink glitter transitioned towards the ends. Her nails were still decorated from her Valentine’s Day dinner with her boyfriend – Ex-boyfriend. Before her hands looked soft, well-manicured and ready for a ring. Now the acrylic nails were starting to grow away from her cuticle, revealing her natural nail and butchered cuticles.

Her knuckles were pink and peeling with a couple bleeding from curling her fists too hard. “Fuck! Ow! Jesus fucking Christ.” Hissing, she grabbed a tear-soaked napkin from the cup holder in her car and dabbed the blood.

Abigail collapsed in the driverseat, thinking about her current predicament. Low cell phone service, she was only a five minute drive from the cabin but she was not prepared for the snow. In her haste to get away and be alone, she had forgotten some basics such as snow boots. Her off-brand Converse were soaked, providing no insulation for her toes. The black sweatpants and hoodie did little to provide any warmth.

“Okay, Abi. We can either cry for the fifteenth time and die in our car. Or… Or, uh, um.” She paused, searching around her car. “Or we could die in our car!” She threw her hands up in defeat.

The cold winds were picking up faster, squeezing her chest and throat. The winter woods were silent in a way that comforted Abi for the first time in a couple weeks. She breathed in the bitter scent of frozen trees, the breath floating in the air like thick fog.

“Red Foreman always said to use kitty litter…” She thought to herself absentmindedly while eyeing her backseat for something. “Traction. Kitty litter gives traction…”

Abi’s backseat was riddled with various objects. Plastic water bottles, wrappers, a shopping bag full of snacks, a Christmas gift she kept forgetting to give to her friend.

As she searched through the wreckage in her car, she found a beach towel balled up under the seat. The towel was musty and still a little damp in the center. She was full of shame as she held the towel hidden in her car for nearly eight months, but it would have to do.

She threw the towel in front of her front tires. Thankfully the towel was oversized and spanned the small width of the Mini Cooper.

With red finger tips clenched on the steering wheel and her car in low-drive (she always forgot to put it in low), she slowly pushed the gas pedal and felt the tires spinning again.

“Come on…” She whispered. “Come on, Sal. You can do it…” The tires spun, the engine growled, Abigail cursed with frustrated tears threatening to freeze on her cheeks. “You can do it. You can do it – YES! Yes, yes, yes. Good boy, Sal!” She screamed in triumph as the car lurched forward.

Abigail parked her car in front of a small log cabin with one side being a large window. The cabin was rather small, only being made for one to two people. She found it advertised as a getaway cabin to completely be off-grid. A cell phone box was available to stow away any electronics. There was a small campfire pit and tan adirondack chairs sitting on gravel next to the cabin.

This cabin seemed to be the most secluded of the options on the website. She couldn’t spot any others nearby, only copious trees for a couple miles. A bird feeder hung near the window of the cabin with a multitude of birds feeding. Mostly goldfinches with a couple cardinals, blue jays and a pair of mourning doves.

Mourning doves mate for life; this fact alone was a pang of sorrow deep in Abigail’s chest.

Buzz buzz – A text message popped up from her best friend:

Did you hear Ryan is telling everyone you broke up with him because he didn’t do the dishes once

Who would believe that

Sooo stupid

Abi responded that it was indeed stupid and she would be focusing on herself now that she made it to the cabin. Five years with Ryan caused her to lose herself. Now she wanted to reinvent herself, out with the old, in with the new. It was still the beginning of the year and she had time to accomplish so much! Though she was unsure of what she wanted to accomplish.

The interior of the cabin was simple. A small kitchenette with forest green cabinets and natural light-stained butcher block. The kitchen had the smallest sink Abi had ever seen, it was barely a square foot. There was a single-serve silver Keurig sitting in the corner with pods of coffee, hot chocolate and apple cider. The cabinets had a couple pots, pans and dishware. The bathroom was surprisingly comfortable with enough space for two people to be in the standing shower.

A full size bed squeezed perfectly in front of the window. The nightstand was big enough to keep a couple books and mug on. Under the bed was the box to keep her phone; she gladly turned her phone off and stowed it away. The relief of being unplugged made her giddy. She hadn’t unplugged once since she got a phone over fifteen years ago.

Abigail made her favorite dinner of mashed potatoes, sauteed spinach and Swedish meatballs. She hadn’t had this meal in five years since she made it for Ryan on their first date. He refused to eat it because he hated beef and gravy. It disappointed Abigail to hear him slander her comfort meal. The memory of his adult tantrum seasoned her meal perfectly. It was almost as sweet as the wine she paired with it.

This meal was to represent new beginnings. Better yet! A reinvention of herself.

No more pleasing people.

No more ignoring her comfort foods because her partner doesn’t like it; they can order or cook their own meal that night.

No more dressed to please everyone around her; if she wanted to wear sweatpants to a party, she would be damn-well pleased to adorn them.

No more limiting herself to two glasses of wine; she would drink the entire bottle… And she was.

As she curled up on the bed with her food and wine, she watched the falling snow illuminate the night as if it were day. The birds were no longer at the feeder, the strong winter winds had calmed and the snow slowly drifted from the midnight sky. The window emanated cold air but copious amounts of wine warmed Abigail.

Suddenly, to Abigail’s surprise, two wolf pups tumbled out of the dense branches. While they weren’t the smallest pups she’d ever seen, brown fur mixed with gray indicating they were still young. Only a few months old with their fur still soft almost like a dandelion made for wishes.

The branches rustled again with adult wolves following behind. Four adults; three sniffed the ground vigorously while the other observed its surroundings. Abigail froze mid-bite as the wolf locked eyes on it. Large brown eyes watching her with interest.

The next morning, Abigail woke as dawn creeped in. She noticed the family of wolves sleeping close to her cabin. Although most would find this behaviour odd, maybe she was considered prey, Abi was oddly comforted. Warmth bloomed heavily in her chest, the bed felt softer and the blanket was hugging her perfectly. Nothing could pull her from this perfect moment of watching nature at peace.

Nothing except a brutal migraine stabbing behind her eyes. Only a cup of coffee and pain meds could help rid the pain of bad judgement.

The wolves started waking up and stretching. One of the pups started jumping in an attempt to catch the few birds starting to feed. Abi chuckled to herself, sipping on her coffee and watching the interactions of the family. The two young wolves tried to catch various animals and inevitably bumped into each other and fought.

As the pack retreated into the trees, the largest wolf with its shiny gray coat and dazzling brown eyes watched Abi. She swore the wolf slowly blinked and nodded to her, almost as a bow of respect, before following her family into the woods. Abigail knew somehow that wolf was the mother.

Abi stepped outside that afternoon to enjoy the fresh, freezing air. She welcomed the sting in her nostrils and prickling of her skin. There was a spot in front of the cabin that lacked snow where the wolves had slept the night before. Abigail placed plates of cooked meats; bacon, ground meat and chicken. Raw carrots and peppers were mixed in though she was unsure if they would be consumed.

The wolves felt like family in a way. Sleeping near her felt protective. Maybe she was going crazy, thinking wild animals were protecting her. They most likely were stalking her until they could eat her for dinner. Until then she would continue bonding with them through food.

A rough voice grunted behind her, “I wouldn’t put that food out here.”

A taller man wearing hunting gear stepped out from behind a tree. He wasn’t old by any means, rather maybe a few years older than her. Well-built, tanned, with short brown hair and scruff. He was the opposite of who she’d usually be interested in. Yet, something about him was alluring.

Abigail turned towards him with her arms crossed, “Why not?”

“Shouldn’t feed the wild animals. They’ll get used to it. Come around more. Could be dangerous.” He shrugged, repositioning a rifle on his back.

“I doubt I’m the only person to feed them.”

He shrugged again. She didn’t know what to say next. Maybe he was correct that she would disrupt nature. She was probably a dumb city girl who didn’t understand the rural lands.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine one time.” He conceded with a smile. He held out his hand, “Name’s Marcus.”

She returned the smile and shook his hand firmly, “Abigail.”

His eyes went wide for a second, his brows lifting, “Firm handshake.”

Abigail and Marcus spent a couple hours talking about why he was in the mountains. He had a hunting cabin a few miles away. He educated her on the proper hunting laws and why it was important for the environment. According to him it benefitted the animals and humans.

There were strict date ranges, tag pricing, gun restrictions, and a few other things she started zoning out because all she could think about was food. Thankfully she stood up and said she had to get back to working on her current project. He tried asking about it but to her surprise she told him it was a secret. In the past she would have let him talk for hours until he got bored and left. This time, as she promised to herself, no more pleasing others; she made time for herself.

Making time for herself meant… Well, she didn’t know. Usually it meant making dinner for her boyfriend, cleaning their apartment when she got home from work, cleaning up after him, picking up his medications. She lost what doing something for herself meant. What did she do before him?

She read a lot. Everything from romance to horror. There was a book sitting on the nightstand. One she tried reading three years ago but Ryan told her only girls who lacked intelligence would read it. It was some cheesy romance book. She liked cheesy, loved it really. Ate it up, regardless of the writing being good or bad. Give her a cliche college romance with a know-it-all battling an egotistical athlete and she would read it in two days.

Abi was deeply in the world of Wildfire when she heard the howls of wolves. She could distinguish two wolves howling back and forth as if they were discussing important matters. The wind was squealing outside, blowing snow and pine every way. Left, right, in circles, up then down. There was no rhyme nor reason to the wind’s chaos. Perhaps the animals knew a storm was on its way. She was always impressed with the ways birds communicated weather changes and daybreaks. She wasn’t familiar with the patterns of other wildlife but she found herself wanting to learn.

Howls became more intense, concerning, until they stopped with a gunshot then a yelp. A yelp so loud Abi could hear it, meaning the wolves were close. She put her book down and squinted hard to see through the dark landscape. A small animal tumbled out from the brush. When it stood up and shook itself, readying itself, she saw one of the wolf pups from the day before.

Abigail didn’t know what she was going to do but she knew the wolves needed help. That small pup was not going to survive whatever predator was there. She slipped on her Converse, nearly tripping over the clothes laying on the floor. She only had plaid pj pants and a thermal long sleeve on. Not knowing how long she would be outside, she threw sweatpants and a hoodie over her loungewear.

She scrambled to find a weapon. A kitchen knife would have to do along with a heavy metal flashlight. The flashlight was scratched up and provided little light. While she was used to intense flashlights, this one would have to do. The pup yipped at its enemy and she bolted out the door without a second thought.

“Hey!” She shouted. “Get out of here!”

Abi stomped through the snow, standing in front of the pup. It was so frightened it couldn’t run from her nor the predator. She shined the flashlight through the dense tree branches, only to see the familiar boots from the hunter. He was hunting the wolves.

Not on her watch.

After a safety check of the baby she crept into the forest. There wasn’t as much snow because most of it was stuck on the branches but there were still glimpses of footprints. She could easily track him down. The forest was eerily quiet as if nature could sense the human predator and hid.

Earlier he was talking about the various hunting laws. With that kind of knowledge one could assume he was aware that hunting wolves was illegal.

What a manipulative bastard. Abigail thought to herself as she hunted the hunter. She wasn’t sure what she would do when she confronted him but she was prepared to go down fighting. A fresh broken heart and years of being manipulated was building up dangerous levels of pressure. Any moment she would have burst, though she always hoped it’d be on her ex.

There was no indication the hunter was still out here. He was skilled at staying quiet, not even a snap of a twig would give away his position. Abi stopped, taking a deep breath to gain her composure. Her ears strained to notice any noise that could indicate where the bastard was.

A bark and rustle of leaves sounded to her right. She ran, not caring if she gave away her position. There was no choice, he was going to come to her.

Red stained the gray-ish hue of snow. Only droplets of blood, to her relief, but close together; a fresh trail to follow. Running through the woods at night was disorienting. The sky above spinned, the trees swayed and the ground felt further from her feet.

Abigail ran so fast she couldn’t stop herself when she saw Marcus standing above an injured wolf. It was the one who bowed to her and watched her.

“You leave Mama alone!” She screamed, losing control of her legs and launching herself onto Marcus.

The gun fired off as they both tumbled across the rigid forest floor. Abi had a second to glance at the wolf’s bloody rear leg before he climbed on her and wrapped a hand around her throat.

“Shouldn’t attack a man with a gun, Abi.” He snarled.

“Shouldn’t attack… A… Woman…” She struggled as his hand tightened.

With a vicious smirk, he feigned innocence, “What woman? There was no woman up here when I was hunting. She never arrived.”

Abigail instinctively grabbed his hand, pushing on it with all her strength. Muscles burned, her throat ached but the bitter air stinging her nostrils gave her enough hope. If she could reach the knife that fell during the tussle, she could survive.

Marcus doubled down, smacking her head hard against the frozen ground. Her vision blurred, tears trailing down her face. She gulped down air before removing on hand to grab the knife. The pressure from being strangled was too much to bear. Adrenaline kicked into overdrive, her whole body thrashing to get him off.

The knife slipped against her sweaty fingertips. It was just out of reach. Marcus looked at her hand just as she grabbed the hilt of the knife. The knife slid too easily into his eye. He screamed, grabbing his face and falling. Blood mixed with tears and snot.

Abigail took that moment to get to her feet, thankful for every painful breath she took. Never did she think she was capable of becoming a protector.

“I protect this forest now.” She declared, standing over him. “Do not hunt my animals.”