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Description
Her parents didn't yell. They never yelled. Sometimes Abby wished they would. Instead, she sat through numerous bouts of frigid, calculated speech. Each word her Mommy didn't shout dripped with disappointment, disapproval, or hatred, depending on the circumstance. The words her Daddy didn't scream held no emotion. The lifeless scathing of their arguments filled the air with tension so frozen it left Abby paralyzed. When they ran out of insults, the resulting void threatened to crush the world like a vacuum. Yelling seemed like the better option.

Abby sat worrying the hem of her new pink and yellow dress. She wanted to take it off but feared moving lest they turn their coldness to her. Their argument started because of the pretty, wretched garment. Abby loved it. It reminded her about happier times when her Mommy used to brush her hair and smile. Hoping to earn a smile again, Abby asked if her Mommy would brush her hair like she used to. Instead of smiling her Mommy stiffened, and Abby retreated a step. "I'm sorry, Mommy, you don't have to," the girl squeaked. Her Daddy didn't smile at his cute little daughter either. His eye appraised her quickly before turning to Abby's Mommy. Abby felt the drop in temperature and sank to her knees out of their line of sight. She wished she left the room.

They discussed matters that Abby didn't understand and their unhappiness only grew. Abby worried the hem of her dress, almost not daring to look up. The one time she peered through her golden locks at her Mommy, she almost cried out in fear. Though she didn't understand what they talked about, she knew her lovely new dress caused it. If leaving the room to disrobe from the trouble making ensemble wouldn't ensure their turn their harsh ice on her, Abby would have stripped right there in the hopes of solving the problem. In the end, Abby sat between them until her legs fell asleep and numbed. She shrank into herself whenever they said her name, the only aspect of their argument that she paid attention to. With every mention she feared a shift of conversation. Thankfully or not, Abby escaped attention.

An eternity later they fell silent. She halted her minute movements and became statuesque, waiting. She felt utterly alone in a house devoid of any kind of warmth that even threatened to snuff out the flickering flame of the five-year-old's heart. Choking back tears of sad loneliness, Abby didn't notice as her parents silently left the room. When she did notice, she stood on legs she couldn't feel and hastily retreated to her room. She barely made it up the stairs and in the dark confines of her room she collapsed in the corner. Ripping off the dress, she threw it across the room. Shivering, for the chill permeated even there, she wrapped her too-small blanket around her shoulders. It didn't warm her up exactly, but it halted the bitter conditions from penetrating her bones any more. The weight of the fabric, though slight, felt like a reassuring hug. The only hugs she received these days. Burying her face into the corner Abby leaned into the blanket, trying to achieve comfort only her Mommy or Daddy could give.

Description
Her parents didn't yell. They never yelled. Sometimes Abby wished they would. Instead, she sat through numerous bouts of frigid, calculated speech. Each word her Mommy didn't shout dripped with disappointment, disapproval, or hatred, depending on the circumstance. The words her Daddy didn't scream held no emotion. The lifeless scathing of their arguments filled the air with tension so frozen it left Abby paralyzed. When they ran out of insults, the resulting void threatened to crush the world like a vacuum. Yelling seemed like the better option.

Abby sat worrying the hem of her new pink and yellow dress. She wanted to take it off but feared moving lest they turn their coldness to her. Their argument started because of the pretty, wretched garment. Abby loved it. It reminded her about happier times when her Mommy used to brush her hair and smile. Hoping to earn a smile again, Abby asked if her Mommy would brush her hair like she used to. Instead of smiling her Mommy stiffened, and Abby retreated a step. "I'm sorry, Mommy, you don't have to," the girl squeaked. Her Daddy didn't smile at his cute little daughter either. His eye appraised her quickly before turning to Abby's Mommy. Abby felt the drop in temperature and sank to her knees out of their line of sight. She wished she left the room.

They discussed matters that Abby didn't understand and their unhappiness only grew. Abby worried the hem of her dress, almost not daring to look up. The one time she peered through her golden locks at her Mommy, she almost cried out in fear. Though she didn't understand what they talked about, she knew her lovely new dress caused it. If leaving the room to disrobe from the trouble making ensemble wouldn't ensure their turn their harsh ice on her, Abby would have stripped right there in the hopes of solving the problem. In the end, Abby sat between them until her legs fell asleep and numbed. She shrank into herself whenever they said her name, the only aspect of their argument that she paid attention to. With every mention she feared a shift of conversation. Thankfully or not, Abby escaped attention.

An eternity later they fell silent. She halted her minute movements and became statuesque, waiting. She felt utterly alone in a house devoid of any kind of warmth that even threatened to snuff out the flickering flame of the five-year-old's heart. Choking back tears of sad loneliness, Abby didn't notice as her parents silently left the room. When she did notice, she stood on legs she couldn't feel and hastily retreated to her room. She barely made it up the stairs and in the dark confines of her room she collapsed in the corner. Ripping off the dress, she threw it across the room. Shivering, for the chill permeated even there, she wrapped her too-small blanket around her shoulders. It didn't warm her up exactly, but it halted the bitter conditions from penetrating her bones any more. The weight of the fabric, though slight, felt like a reassuring hug. The only hugs she received these days. Burying her face into the corner Abby leaned into the blanket, trying to achieve comfort only her Mommy or Daddy could give.