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Our Little Abby – Part 2

My heart started to pound intensely. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to convince myself that my eyes were just playing tricks on me. To my dismay, when I opened my eyes she was still there; somewhat gazing at me yet, somewhat dazed out at the same time.

She looked as scared and confused as I felt in that moment. She seemed as though she had been drugged up though. She had small cuts all over her body. Not like someone cut her; it looked like she had been wandering around in the woods for quite some time, as she was also covered in a fair amount of dirt.

I began to panic and didn’t want anyone to notice the little girl in my car in fear of anyone thinking that I had kidnapped her. So, I began to drive faster. I planned on going to a wooded area far away from the general public to buy some time and think about just what the hell was going on. I tried asking the little girl if she was okay but she wouldn’t answer me. All she kept repeating after I tried getting information out of her was “I’m Abby”.

“Did someone put you in my car?”

“I’m Abby…”

“I know Abby, but who did this to you?”

“…I’m Abby…”

She started off sounding like a sweet innocent child. However, with each reply, I started to notice her voice beginning to deepen and sound almost… distorted. Like she was speaking through static.

“Abby, please, I need to know who did this to you. I can get into a lot of trouble. We need to get you help but I need to figure out how you ended up in my car first.”

“I’m Abby…”

This went on for a good five minutes or so.

Realizing that I wasn’t going to get any information out of her, I started to drive even faster.

Apparently I was going well over the speed limit at this time, as I saw red and blue flashing lights in my rear view mirrors. Followed by that classic ear-piercing siren that follows those epilepsy inducing lights.

Knowing I was now absolutely screwed for the rest of my life, I pressed on the gas even harder now.

The police officer evidently followed suit.

Abby just sat there with the same dazed out look she had early, never once taking her eyes off of me.

I saw her through my peripheral vision; as I tried avoiding getting into a collision with any of the other cars on a now cluttering roadway.

She didn’t seem to be affected by what was going on.

She didn’t seem to be there at all.

Forced to stop my car because of a sudden traffic jam, I looked to my passenger’s seat.

She… wasn’t there anymore. The only thing left on the seat was the newspaper and my purse.

“Was she ever there?” I questioned myself.

Caught up in my confusion, I had forgotten that I was out running a cop for a good 10 miles.

There were now two police cars; one pulled up behind me, practically knocking off my bumper in the process. The other, pulled up right beside me, taking off my left mirror completely; while also tapping the car in front of it.

“This can’t be happening,” I cried to myself, shaking, with tears streaming down my face.

A total of four police officers stood surrounding my car, weapons drawn, demanding that I step out of my vehicle with my hands up.

After gathering up enough courage after a few seconds, I opened my door.

Forced to the ground and handcuffed;

I followed their instructions. I was read my Miranda Rights then found myself being detained and questioned about the kidnapping and murder of little Abigail Warner.

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