Never Open That Door - Part I: Mrs Montgomery.

“Go on, get out, bitch, or I will give you more of that. Who needs you anyway?”

Gabby sat in her car, sobbing. Deep sobs. Her world was falling apart. She had driven as fast as she could to get away from Luke. “How could he do this?” she asked herself. “Where was she going to go?”

She had no answers. Tomorrow, she would return to the house. She would load her car with everything she could. After that, she never wanted to see the place again, or Luke. He had become so abusive, and she did not need that. At nineteen, she had her whole life ahead of her.

Gabby was both very smart and attractive, yet also very quiet. Her long auburn hair framed her face perfectly. Her unusual blue eyes usually sparkled, and her smile was infectious. Not tonight, though.

A monster peered back at her from the rear vision mirror. She had not noticed the cut on her face, the bruises on her arms and cheek, or the cut lip.

She fiddled nervously with a gold bracelet on her wrist. As she looked at it, she started to cry.

"This is crazy," she said to herself. I need to find somewhere to sleep, she said to herself as she stared at her car.

A few miles down the road, she found a motel. Not particularly clever, but it would have to do. She was too tired and too upset to car. She went to the reception and a plump, motherly-looking figure greeted her. She immediately became concerned.

“Honey, are you all right?” she asked with concern.

Gabby caught her breath to stop herself from erupting into tears.

“I just need a room for the night, please.”

“You need more than a room, darling. What happened to you? Do I need to call anyone?”

Gabby laughed to herself. Call someone, who?

Luke, the bastard who did this to me?

My parents, whom I have not seen in six months because of Luke?

“No, just a room, please,” she could not hold back the tears any longer.

The lady came around from behind the desk and held her in her arms while Gabby sobbed all over her shoulder.

“Come here, sweetie. Let’s get you a nice cup of tea and get you cleaned up a bit, and then we'll worry about finding a room. There are plenty free tonight. She moved toward the door and turned her sign around to say, “Press the button for service.”

Holding Gabby’s hand, she walked her to her room at the back and fetched her first-aid kit.

After cleaning Gabby’s wounds, she gave her the keys to room one, right next to the reception area.

“Here is a room for you, sweetie.”

“It is right next door to here, so if you need anything, just press he button. We can talk in the morning after you have had some rest. Is there anything you need?”

Gabby politely said no, got the few things she had brought with her from her car, and settled in.

She knew she couldn't sleep. Still, she wouldn't let Luke feel satisfied, thinking she was worried about him.

It was over, and tomorrow, she would start a new chapter. After Luke had left for the day, she would get things from the house and find somewhere to live. She could not afford much, but her part-time job and scholarship would cover her.

Finishing her degree was most important to her. She had been studying to be a journalist. She only had one year left and hoped to secure an internship somewhere.

While figuring out what she could fit in her car and planning her next uni assignment, she must have dozed off.

She woke up with a start. Who was at the door?

She could hear rustling outside her door. Surely Luke had not followed her here. Did he have a tracker on her car? She wouldn’t put it past him.

A knock on the door. “Hello, dear. It's Mrs. Montgomery.”

"Are you O.K.?"

Gabby looked at her watch; it was eight o’clock already.

“Sorry, I am awake. I won’t be a minute.”

“Take your time. Come in next door when you're ready and join me for breakfast."

“Oh, O.K. Are you sure?”

"Absolutely, dear, I will be waiting."

*****

Gabby showered and dressed. All she had was an old pair of jeans and a sweater that she always kept in her car in case she ever stayed over with her sister. Her sister had left four months ago, but she had never taken her clothes out. Now she was glad she hadn’t.

She knocked on Mrs. Montgomery’s door.

“Come in, love,” she said as she turned away from the kitchen sink. She gasped.

“Oh, my poor dear, you look terrible. Who did this to you?”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. I am just worried about you. Are you all right? Do you have somewhere to go?”

“Oh, shut up, you old bat,” she scolded herself. “You ask too many questions,” she continued talking to herself.

“No, no, it is fine. You have been wonderful, and I am very grateful.”

“This was courtesy of my boyfriend,” replied Gabby, pointing to her face.

“I need to get my things out of our place and then find somewhere else to stay. I am in my final year at uni, and I don’t want this to interfere with my degree any more than it already has.”

“Sit down and eat something, dear,” Mrs. Montgomery said, pointing to the table. It had cereal, toast, and fruit.

A silence fell over the room. It lasted for some minutes. Gabby took some fruit and toast and drank the cup of coffee that Mrs. Montgomery had made for her.

It was Mrs. Montgomery who broke the silence.

“My dear, you need to report this to the police and get a restraining order.”

Gabby froze. That was the last thing she wanted, to get the police involved.

“No. I can’t do that. I just want to get my things and get on with my life, but thank you.”

“Take it from me, you will never get on with your life if you don’t do this, child. You are not alone; I will help you.”

Gabby became strangely inquisitive; probably that was why she was doing journalism. She always wanted to know why. This was no exception. Why had Mrs. Montgomery been so kind to her? She didn’t even know her name.

She could not hold back any longer and had nothing to lose.

“Why are you being so kind to me? You don’t even know my name. You took me in, are giving me breakfast, and are still offering to do more. I am very grateful; don’t get me wrong, but why?”

“It’s Gabby, by the way, Gabby Robinson. I am nineteen and studying journalism; did I tell you that already?” asked Gabby, now totally confused about what she did and didn’t know.

Mrs. Montgomery paused.

“Gabby, nice to meet you, dear. I will make a deal with you. I will tell you why I want to help you if you tell me why you won’t report this to the police. Just look at what he has done to you.” She finally said.

Two unanswered questions. Right now, Gabby did not feel like trusting anyone. She trusted Luke, and that got to her.

Gabby realized she needed all the help she could get.

“Let me start,” she said.

Till next time,

Calvin

[Author's Note: Hi there, a personal note from me. I am expanding my horizons and getting more into fiction writing. This story is the first part of a series I am putting together under "Never Open That Door."

I would really appreciate some feedback from readers on whether they think it has charm, merit, or hope. Or, conversely, if i is the biggest load of crap you have read today. After all, isn't that the essence of the Vocal community?]