Discipline Academy-The Mystery of Abbey College (#NaNoWriMo2016)

Abby

*Abby*

 Over the next few hours–or what I though was a few hours–I fashioned my weapon. I bound my hairpins together, sharp ends facing up and out, with thread torn from my petticoat hemline. I'll admit, it wasn't the best, or the strongest, weapon, but it was something. I kept back a pair of hairpins, tucked deep in my hair, to use as lock-picks, if ever the opportunity were to arise. It was hard to focus of my work, my head ached so much. I was hungry and battered, and pain was quickly becoming my new normalcy.

When the door to my prison creaked open, I hurried to tuck my weapon away. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to catch me plotting an escape. For the first time since my capture, I caught a glimpse of my captor. He was a tall, reed-thin man, his hair gone gray, his face hidden from her. Before she could see more, he had placed himself behind her, and she didn't dare turn to face him.

He was angry, she could tell that much; he was practically seething with it. She could feel it rolling from his skin. He grabbed her arms, twisting them painfully behind her back and leveraging her to her feet. She hung, he toes pressed against the ground, her knees bent, her back arched, helpless in his grip. "The damn school knows, doesn't it? Carrington knows!" Abby let out a whimper. "Is that a yes?" the man asked. "Tell me, you little slut!"

"Tell you what?" Abby asked desperately. Carrington knew what? She couldn't very well answer him if she didn't know the answer.

The man didn't seem to care about that. He shoved her to her knees and wrenched her arm painfully. Abby heard a crack, followed by searing pain, and her arm hung limply at her side, broken, her shoulder dislocated.

Tears coursed down her cheeks. "What do you want?" she demanded. "Please, just tell me!" Her arm hurt more than the rest of her aches and pains combined. She just wanted it to end.

"Carrington knows where we are, doesn't her? He sent you as bait, and his minions followed, or am I mistaken?" the man said, still holding her other arm.

Abby gasped in pain. "I don't know," she cried. "I don't–" she screamed as a lash struck her back, and toppled onto her stomach. The man had released her. Two more blows followed before the man spoke again.

"Don't lie to me," he hissed, his mouth right be her ear. "Your headmaster sent a group of students after you. My men killed one of them already."

Abby gasped. Someone had died? Was it one of her friends? Was it Daniel? Was it Charlotte? A sob jerked out of her, completely unrelated to the pain of her body. "Who?" she asked desperately, pushing herself to her knees with her good hand.

"A girl with silver hair," the man told her, running a finger along her neck. She shuddered, her empty stomach turning over.

"Charlotte," she told the man angrily. "Her name was Charlotte d'Albury."

"What?" the man asked. Abby felt him pull away. "What did you say her name was?"

"Charlotte d'Albury," Abby said. Charlotte had said her father belonged to a group like the National Party. "Lady Charlotte d'Albury."

Abby heard the man's footsteps move away. "Tommy!" he bellowed, a note of panic in his voice. "Tommy, take over." When Tommy didn't answer, he added, "Remember, we have Lilly. If you don't come now, I will make you hit her, this time."

"Yes, milord," Tommy's voice came from the doorway. The door slammed shut, and Abby turned. It was just her and Tommy in the room.

"Miss?" Tommy said, coming over an squatting at her side. "This Charlotte, she was your friend?"

Abby swallowed, fighting tears. "Yes," she said. "She was... she was my first friend. And my roommate."

Tommy said kindly, "Why don't I set your arm, and you can tell me about her? How does that sound?"

Instead of answering, Abby began to talk. "She was the smartest person I'd ever known," she said. "And she could ride like she was a part of the horse. But that's not why I liked her so much. She liked the same books as I did, and our minds worked almost as one. She was my opposite in everything. Sometimes..." Abby paused to bite back a yell as Tommy straightened her arm. When he was done, and the pain had abated enough that she could talk without screaming, she went on, "Sometimes I felt like she was my sister. I could say anything to her, and she would listen."

Tommy sighed as she came to a stop. "She sounds like an amazing person," he said.

Abby let out a rueful laugh. "Then you didn't know her. She was brilliant, yes, but she was difficult. She was prickly as a hedgehog, and incredibly self-conscious. When we first met, I think she hated me." The sentence came out strangled, and Abby fought back a sob. "She was cold to anyone she didn't like. And most of all," Abby paused. "Most of all, she was afraid of others, afraid to get too attached to anyone. Her father treated her like scum, and her first friendship ended very badly, and she's always been scared to let anyone in.

"At the beginning of the year, I thought she was falling in love with another of my friends, and he's madly in love with her, but she pushed him away, and now she's with another friend, who she definitely doesn't love."

"Love isn't safe," Tommy said sadly. "Look at me; I love my daughter, and His Lordship holds her and makes me do horrible things." He paused, staring at his big hands. "I killed a man for him, yesterday. Because he made me watch as he hit Lilly." His voice broke. "She just kept crying and crying, Miss. She's only five. I can't let them hurt her again." Then, "Miss, you have friends who want you to escape. Be ready, and, when you go, take Lilly with you."

Abby said nothing; she couldn't. Her friends were coming for her? Even though Charlotte had died? It was unimaginable. But she would be ready, if they did come. She fingered the hairpins she'd tucked away. She would be ready, even if they did come. "Tommy," she said, forcing her voice to be even. "I promise that, if I escape, I will make sure to save your daughter, too. I promise."

Tommy squeezed her good hand. "I know," he said kindly. "And I thank you. If you escape, I will probably be killed. Don't wait for me to come for her; find her someplace safe to grow up."

Abby swallowed uneasily. "I'll bring her to where I grew up. After my mother died, the professors of Discipline raised me. I'm sure they'll raise her, too. She will be beloved, Tommy, just like I was."

Tommy gave her hand one more squeeze. "You are an angel, Miss."

After Tommy had left her, Abby lay on the cold, stone floor, staring at the grey ceiling. There were cracks between the stones in the ceiling, and the plaster around them was crumbling. For awhile Abby distracted herself by following the spidery lines from corner to corner. Her ribs ached, and every breath sent a burst of fiery pain across her torso. She cradled her injured arm to her chest. Every movement, every twitch, felt like she had been bludgeoned with rocks fro the inside and out.

Her vision swam, and she closed her eyes; she would just rest for a minute, and then she would plot her escape. She sank into unconsciousness once more.