(BOOK 2) MARK/HOFFMAN: A Saw Fanfiction

EIGHTEEN

Abby's father had directed her to the cemetery where her mother was buried, so she decided while Mark was at work that she would go visit her. 

She drove to the cemetery, soft music playing but she wasn't listening. Mark was rarely home anymore, so she realized without him, she still had to be able to live with herself. 

Looking back on her time with him, she was surprised at how she had been acting. She felt as if she had acted like a child and had grown way too dependent on him. She'd been so caught up in the happiness and romance of it all that it engulfed her whole life. 

She knew it was because she hadn't been happy in fourteen years. 

But after two years Abby was beginning to feel like a normal person again, and at 32 years old, she needed to have some sort of independence. 

While her and her mother were not close, Abby felt the need for some sort of closure. When she was growing up, her mother was neglectful, physically and mentally abusive. It took a lot of soul searching for her to forgive her mom. When she was being trafficked, she would sometimes cry for her mom because despite how her mom treated her, it was still better than what those people were doing to her. She forgave her during that time. 

She pulled into the cemetery and parked in the area her father said her mother was buried. Abby turned the car off and sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath. She had brought a flower to bury, a white tulip. It was one of her mom's favorite flowers. Abby glanced over at it, then back out the windshield. 

It was still hard to believe she was gone. 

Abby mustered up the courage to get out of the car, doing so slowly. She held the flower close to her chest as she locked the car and began walking down the rows, reading each name. She almost missed it, but a few rows later, she read the name Julie Donovan. 

She blinked, reading it in full once more. Julie Donovan. 1945-1987. Loving wife and mother. 

Abby stood there for a moment, the words seeming fake. She could remember what her mom looked like around the time she disappeared; dark hair with strands of gray, wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of her eyelids. She was sickly thin from all of the drugs. Her green eyes seemed lifeless long before she died. 

She took after her mother more than anything. The dark brown hair, pale skin, her height and thin stature. The only thing she had from her dad was his brown eyes. 

"Hey mom," she whispered. She felt silly, speaking to no one. Hesitating, she looked around, then sat down in front of the head stone.  "It's been awhile, heh." 

The only sounds were the chirping of small birds and the soft rustling of tree branches. An older couple were ahead about ten rows. She could hear the woman weeping. 

"I don't really know what to say to you besides that I'm okay," Abby said aloud. "I've been through a lot but I made it through. I somehow made it." Abby set the flower down and crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap. "I'm hoping that you at least know that I'm alive, wherever you are." 

Abby felt tears stinging her eyes. "I know me disappearing caused this. I didn't just leave. I got taken. I wish I could have seen you one more time before that... well, I wish it had never happened at all, but you know..."

"Anyway, I'm in a better place now. I'm going to college, I'm dating a nice man... you know him. Mark? Yeah... you didn't like him much but he's a good guy... I'm getting by and I'm starting to feel better after everything." 

Abby looked down at her hands. They were shaking. This was about the only time she had talked to her mom without being ridiculed or yelled at, or told to go away.